I think I must be a little sensitive today but I can’t pretend I’m not hurt. Do you remember when we first met? It was a long time ago, I remember it was a Sunday and I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to appear needy either but my other efforts hadn’t worked so I gave you a call. The lady who answered was lovely and though she couldn’t help me with my needs she had a friend who could; he was lovely too; so patient and understanding he must have spent an age ensuring satisfaction and believe me, I was. Do you remember this was back in the days before the internet, well, before broadband anyway; back then we had to wire things up to make a connection and it didn’t always work. Online shopping was for dreamers such as you and me, but we didn’t let that stop us. Later that day I put in my first order.
The years passed, I moved house and though we kept in touch somehow we’d lost the magic of those early days. As fate would have it the local supermarket was one of yours; now we could have more than just an online relationship. I walk there several times a week to see your stripes of red and blue, though I must confess I haven’t always been true; this won’t be easy to read but you deserve the truth; there have been times I’ve used Aldi. They’re a little closer, a little easier on the pocket but that’s no excuse, and I’m sorry; I hope one day you’ll have it in your heart to forgive me. I suppose I ought to apologise to Aldi too - or it might be Lidl, I never could tell those two apart.
Special Purchase? What’s so special about that, I’ve never seen them more expensive - and you of all people know how I like a chocolate roll. Is there something wrong? Have I done something wrong? Do you not want me anymore? Have Asda been mean, are they telling fibs? It’s all lies. Well… I suppose there was that one time but please believe me, it meant nothing. No doubt you’re beginning to think I’m a bit of a tart, maybe that’s why you fling such yellow label provocation in my face. Have you really had enough? Should I turn around and go? Please tell me, am I not welcome anymore? You needn’t worry about me; somehow, I don't know how, but somehow I will survive.
The Annual "Santa is not Real" Scandal
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