Charity Shops

There can't be many worse places to wander into than a charity shop! These run-down, decrepit hovels sell the most worthless shit on this planet to try to raise money for pitiful causes such as ‘the national woolly cardigans fund’. I believe shops such as these actually contribute to the national suicide rate because I swear whenever I am dragged into one of these miserable cesspits I have an overwhelming urge to slit my fucking wrists.

Let’s all take a moment to picture the following scene - you are standing outside an unfamiliar shop, splattered over the shop’s window are various photos of depressing baby faces, below, arranged in a sporadic display, is what can only be described as the crap you’ve probably thrown out over the last 10 years. The alarm bells are ringing but for some strange reason you know you must see more and venture inside. The first thing that hits you is the musky smell of granny’s piss-ridden underwear! At first you wonder if the toothless old hag has been following you but then, like a fucking sledgehammer in your face, you realize you are surrounded by row upon row of the most tasteless articles of clothing you have ever faced. The smell appears to be emanating from them and out of stupid curiosity – you’re not actually old enough to consider buying anything yet - you pull one of them off the rack for a closer inspection! A few fleas leap for their freedom as you draw the reeking garment closer to your nose. ‘Woah fuck-me it smells like deadman’s y-fronts! Did some old cunt peg it in this?’ you scream whilst slinging the garment as far across the shop from you as possible – it actually hits a small child in the face and a week later that child dies from the fumes. All the elderly shoppers turn and look at you - which is pretty much everyone else in the shop. A small old craggy voice suddenly emerges from somewhere out-of-sight ‘mmmm deadman’s y-front!’

Anyway I think you get the picture! Charity shops are shit-holes and the only people that shop there are those that have had their sense of colour-coordination and dignity fucking fried either through piling on the years or by being born a fucking mong. The clothes were out of fashion in the eighties, the nik-naks are all fucking hideous and the videos, CDs, jig-saws, and all the other shit, are so fucking out-of-date they have practically turned to dust. Yes most of the proceeds may go to charity but ask yourself this – how much of your hard earned cash do you want to exchange for this shit just so some fucking tree-loving hippy can save a few tubby brown babies! The answer is zero motherfucker! Boo yaaah!