£7800 for a king size mattress; £4650 if you don’t have a consort. Again, that’s just the mattress. We’d need a mortgage to finance the whole bed. Available at John “Never knowingly undersold” Lewis.
We’re not in the market. I was just wandering around the store in search of a nap.
Downton Abbey finished its second season last night with a flurry of martyrdoms, including Lavinia dying of Spanish flu and a broken heart, and Anna insisting on a quick marriage to John Bates all the better to familiarise herself with the “…for worse” part of her vows. Not sure if Lord Grantham’s decision not to bed the chambermaid counts, but what the hell, we’ll give it to him.
If the British do one thing right, it’s costume drama. You think they really have a queen and royal family? It’s all faked, like the moon landings. I once saw Liz buying Pedigree Chum for her corgis at Tesco. She had coupons. Puts on a good show though. The camera makes her look a bit like Helen Mirren.
One year from today, I won’t be voting for the incumbent. I thought I was in the professional ranks of cynics before; he taught me that I was only an amateur. Not sure whose box to tick, or if I should even bother. Seriously. I’m coming around to George Carlin’s point of view, that only those who vote can properly be blamed for what their candidate does if elected.
