Store Wars

Fodder and fuck-ups

Christ, I hate going to Tesco. It's like the seventh circle of hell furnished with extortionately priced bread rolls. Our local store is undergoing some sort of metamorphosis from hell hole to Satan's arsehole thanks to wild expansion plans, all of which means there's even more Tesco to hate. Not only is it frigging enormous but it's stocked like a communist Russia Harrods outlet with builders flashing their bums like slot machines. 
Worse, one of the new ranges on offer is a staggering level of illiteracy. If I see one more sign which reads Thanks for your patience while we temporary improve the store I'll go straight to what's left of the stationery aisle, grab a marker and write corrections on the forehead of every cashier I can hunt down. I mean, does anyone read this bollocks before they decorate the walls with it? 
And yesterday, in a desperate search for pitta bread (I know, I know) I was idiotic enough to head for the newly named Naan and Pitta aisle. "Fuck me," I thought. "The middle class has come to town!" Until I arrived at said shelving and found that it actually contained a negative number of pittas. In fact it was a black hole for bread products which I circumnavigated for ten minutes before my goodwill and remaining faculties got sucked into it. 
Joyously this carnage is going to continue until June 2012. June. 2012. Just to rearrange the fucking egg aisle and throw in a few more badly made t-shirts. It makes me want to poke out my own eyes with a three-week old corn cob. Only problem is that I'd have to go into the fucking store to buy one first. 
Bastards.