I Don't Love It That Much....

Now regular ranters will know that I have a small problem with the ad man. He earns far far more than you good Guttersnipe here ever hopes to earn, for coming up with frankly meaningless, ill-thought out bollocks to a degree that would suggest that even the Inland Revenue would decline his CV.

Today, the finger of suspicion is pointed firmly at Clover Margarine.

I’m sure you’ve all seen the adverts, "Oh We aaaalll love Clover" lots of pleasant rustic scenes of happy families chowing down on their favourite artificial dairy flavoured spreads with not a care in the world. Until we reach the end and we have a pathetic faced woman sat in a farmhouse kitchen being all depressed until Hey Presto, husband appears with cheese sandwich and she is overcome with tears of joy and gratitude.

Now I ask myself, what sort of shit state is your life in if you are that grateful for a free cheese sarnie?

How much of a shiftless, idle, low down, good for naught slob must your husband be if you see the making of a cheese sandwich as a heart moving sacrifice of his time and effort for you? If she’s this grateful for a sandwich I’ll warrant she’s had a pretty shitty Christmas last year.

What on God’s green earth would the woman be prepared to do if he say cleaned the entire house or bought her a new car? I imagine he’d probably be allowed to sleep with the local rugby team’s cheerleading squad.

There must be men out there now reeling in disappointment having followed the ad man’s lead and made their upset lady a cheese sarnie to which she has replied “Thanks hun…. Would you mind emptying the dishwasher now?”

I don't love it that much.... irrespective of how it's churned.