In which Victor and I give up entirely and go to the pub.............

This morning, I received an unsolicited text message from EE inviting me to 'Gift Like a Boss' this Christmas.

Does anybody out there have any idea what this means?

There was a day when I could 'Punch like a South Bound Freight Train'.....

It's been a long while, but this makes me feel like getting back into training......

'Gift Like a Boss' indeed..........

Good Grief, children! 

This is the language of Shakespeare, Milton, Donne, Coleridge, Maugham, Eliot, Dickens, Fforde, insert the name of your favourite author and wordsmith here that you are traducing with your spine-wrenchingly awful misconstructions.

So what to say to the bunch of hopelessly misguided suits who came up with this?

I am starting an on-line campaign:

It's called "No. Stop it. Stop it Now. No, Really, Before I Lose My Temper ......."

We then add what we wish to say to the authors of this abomination, and sign.

I will open the batting thus:

.... "you lame brained excuses for a bunch of numpty cretins." John Witts.

(Come on, I'm just warming up. I'm sure you can do much better.........)

Please send your submissions to this blog on the usual electronic postcard.

Meanwhile, Victor and I will be muttering into our Milk Stout in the Saloon Bar........

Merry Christmas everyone........