So it seems that anybody, or everybody, or somebody can have an opinion on anything, or everything or something these days. Here at _Paul_And_Land_ we are speechless and gob-smacked at the notion that a former High Street purveyor of shirts, slacks, lingerie and associated accoutrements have waded into the murky pool of naming benefits claimants. As a former high-end, yet reasonably priced, outlet for clothing one would have thought other fish were on the menu. Clearly not. This will cost them business, if they were still in business, you mark our words.
Enough of this badinage and word bandying. Shirts. Lots of people are trying on different shirts it would seem. Dave and Ed and Ed and George and Nick are all sharing the one shirt, young Owen has tired of trying to share that one shirt and has decided on a lumberjack shirt. Interestingly, it’s the same shirt but he’s drawn a pattern on it and he got it from Mr Ben, so he’s quite happy.
Lots of other men are wearing black shirts, or brown shirts but that’s because they’re grubby. And, continuing the grubby theme, some men are wearing Tea Shirts. I certainly wouldn’t want to eat a shirt for my Tea but each to their own. And what of these Tea Shirts? Well some of them are quite risque with pictures of scantily clad ladies wearing nothing but clads that are scanty. How would it be if Nicholas Witchell* wore a Tea Shirt with a picture of a scantily clad goat on it? There’d be uproar; tables, chairs, sofas and hanging baskets would be strewn around the place like there was no tomorrow.
And although a certain former High Street purveyor of shirts, slacks, lingerie and associated accoutrements may have waded into the murky pool of naming benefits claimants we can’t for one moment imagine them selling scantily clad goats.
Let’s all have a little think about that, shall we. And go change our shirts.
*or any other Z list celebrity