Mr and Mrs McMuffin

nectar

I have only just got around to registering my Nectar card, which is a reward system operated by a group of big companies in the UK. I was surprised to find that I have acquired 14,250 points. I got very excited about what I could get for that from the online catalogue. Apparently I can get a return to Paris on Eurostar for only 12,000 points, which seems like a good deal. But I want a digital video camera. I can get one for only 93,000 points. The Nectar site has a handy calculator for working out how long it would a take me to earn enough points so that I can have the camera. Turns out that if I spend an average of £295 each month on grocery shopping at Sainsbury's I will earn enough points in only two years. That means that I will have to spend more than £7000 to be rewarded with a two years old camera that only cost £450 when it was new. Now that is the sort of shopping challenge that I just cannot ignore.

ms gypsy tart's new trousers

Ms Gypsy Tart has bought herself a new pair of trousers. She loves them. She thinks they are very slimming. However, Mr Rock Cake, he who wears nothing but three quarter length shorts all year round, thinks they look awful. For some reason, he thinks they make her look like Peggy Wanker Bundy [snigger]. What do you think?

you are saved...

...from catblogging and lists. It is I, the fairer McMuffin attempting to say something different, but sadly we have the same preoccupations. Slink has been a good little chum to me during my settee hugging days and has warmed me during the shivers by curling up on my lap. I am sorry to be so boring, as sickness is only a preoccupation of those who are sick, but I don't seem to be getting well. The cold's going slowly, but evil bug still seems to be hanging around. Mr McMuffin is even talking about me possibly having had glandular fever (and he would rather cut his foot off than indulge in sick talk), so I think it is time to go back to the doctors before I get so bored by talking about it, I'll have to just write my symptoms down and hand them the list. People who read this blog are always very kind with their well wishes, but PLEASE don't feel the need to say anything, I really am that bored by this illness stuff and this will be the last time I mention it.

Anyway, I'm back at work savouring the time with my team before I have to move on. I saw some of my new team on Friday and was struck by their dress code being much smarter than ours. Not that I need an excuse, but I'm really going to have to go shopping. If I'm going to be accepted I need to blend in, at least that's how I'm going to explain it to Mr McMuffin. Now, I'm not going to go mad and radically change my low maintenance ways, but I have been looking for an excuse to smarten up for some time. I've also (unintentionally) lost some weight, so a lot of my trousers are just too big and there are a lovely tweedy pair in Mango...a gorgeous wrap cardigan in Hobbs (and a very similar and equally nice one in Massimo Dutti). I haven't fully explored the new range at Zara, but I'm getting increasingly impressed with what Laura Ashley have been doing over the last few years. I still hate Jigsaw (although Mr McMuffin, who has no interest at all in 'lady clothes' really likes it) and admire some of the pretty of Monsoon, but sadly like the plain of Gap. I really cannot bear any logos or 'designs' on clothes and Gap are good at keeping it plain. I would have made a good Amish type. This post can't go on forever, so I'll leave the rest of Bluewater out. Hail Bluewater, the high street in a quarry.

So shoes, I adore shoes, but having worked as a Saturday shoe shop sales assistant when at school, I HATE shoe shopping and rarely buy any. I was trained by Mavis, the best shoe concessionaire in the South and hate shoe shop assistant's sloppy ways. For God's sake, they don't even know how to lace a pair properly, or feel for a fit, and don't even mention how they don't have any spirit for selling 'sundries'.

Well I seem to have rediscovered my passion and energy. Clothes and shoes, a cure for all ills...and listening to the Super Furry Animals again.

finally, i am rich

My eBay auction is going very well. The single hair that I am selling has received four bids so far, and is now worth 26p. A man has an average of 100,000 hairs on their head and about 30,000 on their face, that means that I stand to make about £36,800 from selling all my hair, and that doesn't include the more exotic hair, for which I will charge a premium, of course. The great thing about this is that once I have plucked every hair from my body, it will grow back in a couple of weeks and I can start all over again. Why didn't I think of this before?