Tag Archives: sainsbury’s

Sainsbury’s – Giving you Less for More !

Ok, it happened.  I offer no apology for my polluting ways because I expect my next car to be a Tesla and also recharged by solar panels so it will make up for any mess I create now.

 

Rollin’ –  in my five point oh

No rag top down so my hair can blow though….

Talking of pimped wheels, look what I spotted at the car wash the other day

 

Yep – they were jet washing it.  I wanted to tell them that electricity and water were generally not a good mix but let them get on with it anyway. I wonder how much he paid – there is no listing on the menu board for mobility scooters.

Now, quick sharp, back to the headline – Sainsbury’s – Giving you less for more.  Regular readers would have seen a previous posting about a £12 price difference for an identical item between Tesco and Sainsbury’s the other day.  Now, it’s not something I want to bleat on about, I am a Sainsbury’s boy through and through so find this whole episode quite embarrassing.  What you are about to see beggars belief really.  I can think of no economic example that can explain such tosh.

 

 

It’s fair to say I am a bit of a chocolate fiend. ‘What – never’ I hear you cry.  ‘How could you possibly be a chocolate fiend and be so buff and studly all the time?’.  It’s hard if I am honest but I still manage it.

Anyway – Sainsbury’s – please tell me, how can you sell a 500g packet of chocolate digestives for less than you sell a 300g packet?  In the words of Donnie Darko – I am all ears!

That’s all for now, I just wanted to share my confusion.  Actually, I am also confused about the amount of new followers my little blog has received this week, all of them latin based names. I was naturally curious and looked at the visitor stats expecting to see some latin countries featuring on the list – but no.  I am suspicious and will investigate further.

Until my investigations are complete – should you receive an email from me suggesting I am stuck in Africa after having my wallet and airline ticket stolen and suggesting you transfer some funds to me at the local Western Union branch in Swaziland – Don’t do it.

DO however, feel free to send me chocolate digestives. There is no excuse for buying cheap knock offs either – Only McVitie’s will do and they absofuckinglutely have to be milk chocolate – none of that dark chocolate nonsense – do you hear ?


Something is Returning

It could be genius, it could be simply the new purchase – a Range Rover Sport V8 Supercharged.  A tad over 500 BHP and fuel consumption that warrants buying shares in BP.  You gotta do it though – everyone should have a V8 Supercharged at some stage in their life right?

On the plane up to Aberdeen tonight, I happened across the perfect song to play first on my road trip back south.  You will get that at the very bottom of this post – just imagine, as I pull away out of Aberdeen tomorrow morning…….  OK, by my standards, Aberdeen to Rugby is nothing more than a quick hop, skip and a jump but every road trip deserves its own play list to see you through.

I found another blinder too, this one you don’t have to wait for though, take a quick look at this beauty.  This will be my sunset tune as I get further south.

Maybe the internet raised us – or maybe people are jerks !

So, where have I been you ask?  Dah – like you care?  Well, a year in Asia under my belt I decided to quit my job and take some time out to study for my next (and last) license.  The next one is as high as I can go,  Top of the shop – Nine – Oh.  February and March will flash by in a blur as I aim to convert my Y License over to an SV licence but also push the size of the boats 6 fold.

January will also see me studying for an Fgas license. What?  an Fgas license?  WTF?  No, its not ‘fart gas’ but does allow me to legally handle refrigerants for air con and fridges etc. I think it will look good on my ever expanding CV.

But enough of that bollocks

Tesco or Sainsbury’s?

Me, I am a Sainsbury boy through and through but I did see something this week that shocked me to my core.  I was out looking for printer cartridges for Poopies printer – a modest yet effective HP Envy 5640.  A nice wireless little model too I might add.  Anyway, a black and colour cartridge I spied in Tesco for £24 – nice little combo. Problem was, Tesco was out of own brand printer paper and by heck I wasn’t paying £5 for a premium ream, sod that!  I headed for Sainers so I could refuel with my double nectar points token at the same time.

Good old Sainers, had the ream of paper for just £3.50 – that’s more like it. Just out of curiosity, I browsed the printer cartridges too.  Holy crap I nearly shat my pants.  The same cartridge combo was £36 !!!!!!!!!!  £12 more expensive than Tesco.  12 pence I could deal with but 12 quid – come on.

Out of sheer disgust, I left with my paper, a hole punch and some of those little stick on paper circles to reinforce the punch holes – sod the printer inks, I ordered a pair of XL cartridges on eBay instead and got them the next day.

For the travellers amongst you – and I don’t mean pikies, the travellers that fly – I have a new game for you to try. I have been doing it for a while now.  I am still stuck on the name for it, either ‘spot the fuckwit’ or ‘shit your pants’ I can’t decide.  Get on a plane, wait for it to start its taxi and then take a good look around.  See if you can guess who will be the first to leap out of their seat to go the toilet the very instant that the captain turns off the seat belt signs – its amazing.

It doesn’t end there though – prepare yourself for the re-match.  After the pilot has announced the decent and the cabin crew tell you to return to your seats and buckle up, who will be the first dick (or dickette – lets consider equality for a moment) to get up for the toilet when the seat belt signs are turned back on again, even after the cabin crew have said the toilets are now out of service.

I struggle with these fools if I am honest.  I once held a poo all the way from L.A. to London and then last year smashed that record with a ‘hold’ all the way from Singapore to London.  Why people struggle for 30 minutes is beyond me.

OK

 

Back to the start.  The beginning of the road trip – the song I shall start my journey with is……..

 

Wait for it.  Let me explain the intensity of this song.  People talk about bucket lists (OK, yanks talk about bucket lists).  They wank on about sky diving, going to the Isle of Man TT, Lion Taming, stabbing a Vicar in the neck, etc etc etc.  The bucket list – A list of things you should do before you die (kick the bucket)

Well, all of the items on their bucket list are just plain piffle, twat waffle, a waste of space.  If there is one thing, just one thing that should be on everyone’s bucket list – it should be this.

Many years ago while having a night out in Edinburgh, a packed pub, rammed to the rafters, the DJ decided to play this song. The whole place erupted in grand voice so loud, even the walls were shaking, I swear the 4 storey building was swaying with the beat.  Scrub your bucket list and put this at the top – to be in a Scottish pub when this is played.

But before you look, let me translate, To Haver = To talk shit.

 

 

 

Lastly, a few hello’s

 

Mon & John.  Bumped into Mon in the TC last week while I was walking along dreaming about a Greggs sausage role and almost missed her, in fact, I did miss her, luckily she spotted me. Lexa – all the way down in South Africa, popping up for the Hugh Cornwell post the other week, Conor – always deserving a mention, my most avid follower, Mr Westwood (and I don’t mean Tim) a surprise meeting at the farm in Cathorpe.  Amy Beard for still not buying me coffee and a cake – MINGER ! Steve B for some very good Xbox sessions since I have been home and of course my bird for being spectacularly ace in every aspect.

 

Party on Wayne

 

 

 


Eating on a budgie

I just read through my last post.  When I wrote that, I was sick as a dog and not running…..hmmmm, something of a theme developing here then.

To keep a long story long, on Wednesday last week, I went to Cannock Chase with Poopie Pants and my mountain bikes.  After suffering a binding front brake on all of the climbs, I finally stopped to release some hydraulic fluid and stop the bind.

It needed to be done, I had struggled to climb at the same pace as poopie, in fact, there were a couple of places that I got left behind – and as you might guess, that right pissed me off – the only person that is allowed to get left behind at Cannock is Steve Brown, because he is old and slow.

So, with some hydraulic pressure released and my front wheel now spinning free as a bird, we sat at the entrance to the only big downhill section that was open that day.  I told poopie that as this section was fast and technical, I would put my crash helmet back on.  Normally I get too hot on the climbs to keep it on and generally our uphill speeds are much safer than our downhill stuff.

Helmet on and I lead the way.  It is fair to say that all of my uphill frustration was now manifesting itself as pure leg power mixed with brain out bravery.  Like a man possessed, I took off.  I have to say at this point that Mr. Brown who we would normally consider the downhill master, would have been left in my wake.  I was on a mighty mission.  The Specialized was absorbing the bumps as if they were mere pebbles.  Jumps were fluid, air time was abundant, the landings – like a boss.  In short – I was a World Champion, flying like a recently released Banshee.

Until

Just one little mistake and 20mph in the forest on a downhill track can suddenly appear to be a tad too fast.

I couldn’t hear Rupert behind me, he hadn’t stayed anywhere near on pace.  I hit a jump with my left foot slightly out of position on the pedal which then caused the bike to veer slightly to the right from the top of the jump.

The 200 year old tree loomed in front of me.  You don’t need to be a Rocket Scientist to know that mountain bike brakes and steering have little if no effect when airborne. Instantly I knew I was in trouble.  I wasn’t going to be in the air all the way to the tree, that was obvious enough but at the side of the cycle track, at the base of the tree was the root system of the 200 year old beast.  Now I say root system but to accurately describe it I need to use a word that rarely comes out of my vocabulary locker.

These roots were gnarly roots – yep, gnarly mother fu**ers. Polished and shining at the side of the track and standing maybe half a metre above the ground and I was heading straight at them at almost 20mph.  At this point, my life didn’t flash before my eyes but instead a quiet calmness reminded be about the physics (gyroscopic effect) of a spinning wheel.  The best chance I had of survival was to continue at full speed directly at them and let the bike ‘do the work’ as it floats across the top.

For anyone that rides, drives, runs, skates, skis etc you will be aware of this theory – keep up the speed and you will be ok.  The problem is, as your brain very quickly makes the association between your speed, the obstacle in front of you and a great deal of pain when it all goes wrong. It wants to slow down as it quite rightly makes the calculation of  ‘less speed = less pain’ which is of course true but it doesn’t take into account the greater  possibility of clearing the obstacle at the higher speed and thus, no pain.

There is another part of the physics equation that I either forgot about or just didn’t have time to compute after landing very close to those gnarly mother fu**er roots.  The bunny hop.  The simple thing here was that those roots stood at around half a metre or 50cm, whereas my front axle stands around 36 or 37cm.  For the mass of my flying body and bike to have any chance of going up and over the roots, my axle (or to be more scientific, what would soon be my ‘Pivot Point’) needed to be above the gnarly mofo root height.  Without the hop, it wasn’t.

My Runkeeper GPS showed and initial speed of just under 20mph before coming to a complete and abrupt stop using only the hard forest floor as cushioning. I remember hitting the roots, then seeing the track fast approaching my face as my arms naturally stretched out to break my fall.  Then, I thought it was over as I lay in the dirt until my bike came crashing in on top of me in some sick kind of comedy fashion.

Laying on the floor like a stale sack of potatoes, I went through my self checks.  Hole in my knee, very pale skin, some blood.  Right forearm light scratching, right hand, light scratching, left foot – big toe very painful. Moaning from the shock, I continued self checks and was still in one piece.  About 15 seconds later – Poopie caught up, slowed as he negotiated the new obstacle in the middle of the track and then called out ‘Looks like I will beat you to the bottom this time’ as he released his brakes and pedaled on – the wanker!  Never even stopped to see if I was OK.  I later found out that this was because he was afraid of finding broken bones poking out of skin and general bloodiness.

Thankfully, the bike survived without damage.  I can’t say without a scratch because it is already full of them, I wouldn’t notice a new one.  It does mean however that since Wednesday last week, I haven’t been able to keep up with my run training.  I am hoping to get out again tomorrow.

 

Eating on a budget is where this all started.  I was in Sainsbury’s yesterday and looking for some baked beans.  I had a flashback to a TV program some time ago where they compared own brand foods to big label stuff.  One thing that had stuck in my mind was their baked bean experiment.  I decided to give it a go for myself.

Heinz baked beans – the main stay of any childs diet that liked to fart.  I found many variants of these on the shelf, 90p per can.  I looked around and found a Sainers own brand for 40p and then looking even further, found another Sainers own brand for just 25p.  Sneaky I thought.  But what is the nutritional comparison?  Well, this is where I got a shock.  Both the cheaper brands were  lower in Sugar and Salt – that has to be a winner right?

The taste test needed to be completed so this morning I had beans on toast.  I bought a can of each of the own brands to see what the difference was.  This morning I opted for the 25p can.  No ‘easy open’ lid so I had to get the can opener out but let me tell you – these were good.  They did in fact taste a bit sweeter than how I remember Heinz but for almost a quarter of the price, I had a healthier option.

So a can of beans for 25p, three slices of bread from my fresh loaf that cost £1 (I reckon that’s 10p a slice), a smidge of Lurpak Spreadable 5p and not including the electricity for cooking, I reckon I had a champions breakfast this morning for around 60 pence.

I ROCK !!!

 

 

This post is dedicated to Amy Horne of Leamington Spa – who despite her flatulence problem, is still brave enough to be seen in public.


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