Extreme Couponing is a popular trend stateside, comprising thrift, greed and consumerism and moulding it into thousands of stockpiles stashed in lower middle class basements of cunts called Marcey, Patti and Hank-Bob all across the US. Brought to you by the people who invented mom jeans, Home Alone 1 & 2 and Mario Lopez, the trend is the answer to the prayers of many in the US, who know that the economy is suffering because Maury has cut his paternity test budget, but still want to eat like fuck even though they could stand to lose a few hundred pounds.
If you don’t have any money but are willing to pay for a slow death via inner poisoning with your dignity, here’s how to Extreme Coupon:
Before you even begin to think about spending your unemployed days clipping coupons from paper inserts you found through skip-hoaking, you need to ensure you are adequately outcasted from society so that the cashier that you eventually hand over your coupons to does not kick up a fuss incase you bite them and give them AIDs or some shit.
To be an outcast, you need to do something outrageous like bring your cat everywhere you go in a pram, or hoard every possession you’ve ever owned in your house, right down to keeping your turds in Tupperware in your shed. The more people question your sanity, the better.
You’ll need shelves to store your couponed items, which are usually a mixture of poor man’s Tampax, dried yakisoba and extra-thick toilet roll marketed towards people who have helper monkeys as ‘the only brand you’ll not get shitfinger with when you’re wiping your morbidly obese owners arsehole’.
Seeing as Extreme Couponers spend about twenty quid on their shopping over the course of their lifetime, you’d think that would free up some of their online bingo winnings income for a nice set of shelves. But oh no. Hotfoot, and by hotfoot, I mean steer your mobility scooter to your nearest Ikea, to block of a variety of aisles while you locate and purchase a dozen or so Splorgs (a.k.a. the cheapest shelves you can find). Erect these in your home by putting the cat in his playpen and moving your box of turds to somewhere more suitable, such as your kitchen table. Once the shelves are sorted, go back to googling ‘Khloe Kardashian paternity scandal’ and whatnot.
Now comes the fun part*. Spend your gormless days clipping coupons for shit you don’t want, need or use to go into a folder that you’ve carefully put together as the response to all the haterz out there who say you can’t have children in your late fifties and its time to give up hope.
As Extreme Couponing gets more popular, your ability to secure local press coverage of your plight increases the likelihood of your target shops allowing you to Extreme Coupon, as they get free publicity due to the fact you look like you haven’t washed since 2004 and everyone will buy the paper just to laugh at you. But you don’t care that you’re an outcast. One day, you’ll go back and knife them all to death when you’ve saved up enough coupons from Tesco’s knife-set-coupon-superdeal that they like to harass customers about at the checkout.
Going for Gold
As you weave your way around the supermarket on your scooter with a camera crew and four trolleys of absolute garbage in tow, shout things like ‘Couponing is my drug!’ to ensure that every other shopper wants to punch you in the face. Remember to erroneously assume their hostility is due to jealousy and not disdain.
Get to the checkout with all of your crap and hand over your coupons like a fucking Olympic champion- you’ve made it. Not only are you a shopping genius, but an organisational whiz and a mathematical marvel. Say that to the camera, maniacally.
Now, go home and resume your empty, lonely life. Try not to kill yourself! Hooray- stuff.
*Warning: contains no fun.