‘Black Friday’ is up for a pre-yuletide cunting
Black Friday – a name which suprisingly hasn’t been nixed by the social justice elite – is one more in a long line of forced Americunt imports. Instead of being just a day of shopping sales pre-Christmas as outlets move to shift final stocks of certain goods, it has become a fucking fortnight of build-up, designed to maximise the fleecing of shopaholic simpletons of their benefits cash.
For me, the accursed phenomenon came into focus a few years ago, when the famous footage appeared on the news depicting dinudnuffins savagely beating each other over the cornrows to get the last discounted Blaupunkt TV from Tesco. I mean, I wouldn’t even punch my most hated rival over complete detritus like a fucking Blaupunkt TV, but I guess a sale is a sale, right?
Admittedly, come Friday morning, yes, I will get a few things online; namely a cut-price TV stick which I was considering buying full price anyway and a reduced-cost Eurosport annual subscription – that’s it. Things I wanted regardless of Black Friday, things I will extensively use and hence, legitimate bargains. But just who in their fucking right mind wants to traipse into circles of retail hell like Westfields West London or Bond Street, just to get into an eternal scrum over some Michael Kors shite or a tub of Body Shop “£1 off” ultra-perfumed chemicals?
Just like Hallowe’en went from a bit of a kids treat to a full-blown fucking national holiday, so to has this shite from across the pond infested the media-driven hype machine to stir the spending fervour of every fucking simpleton in the land. Hopefully a few morons will plummet over the 8-storey escalator in Westfield’s John Lewis. I suspect however that still won’t stop them, the fucking insidious cunts.
Nominated by The Empire Cunts Back
I would like to nominate young children whom sit or stand in shopping trolleys and the adults that let them.
It’s similar to that nomination of that lady whom lost her head whilst sticking it out of a train.
I’ve been working in a supermarket for a bit now after having been out of work for a while but keeping busy with volunteering in the mean time. Finding a job is hard and I need the money.
It cheeses me right off when children mess about.
When the parent or parents come to the till with child in the trolley, I ask the parent, “What shelf did you find that on (pointing to the child in the trolley)?” Parent laughs.
Matter of factly, no ounce of can of cant-ishness whatsoever, I tell the parent, “It’s dangerous to have children in trolleys. Accidents can happen”. Some either apologise or give an evil look.
It annoys me because if something bad happens, it’s never the person who causes it, always the fault someone else.
There are warning symbols on the push bar of the but still..
Fork sake.
Also people wearing pyjamas and or slippers in supermarkets. Gah!
Nominated by Spoonington