Tag Archives: Tesco

How To Extreme Coupon

'It makes me so happy!' cried a person who needs to look up 'happy' in the dictionary.

‘It makes me so happy!’ cried a person who needs to look up ‘happy’ in the dictionary.

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.


Remember to hold up that queue, too!

Remember to hold up that queue, too!

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.

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How To Fix The Economy

With the 2013 Budget looming, we are all shitting bricks as we sit tight and wait to hear whether we should throw out that tin of old artichokes that expired in July 2007, or hold on to it incase we’re so poor come Christmas that’ll it’ll be taking the place of a turkey.

Since he became Chancellor in 2010, George Osbourne promised a rebalancing of investments and exports, to aim to somewhat rectify the UK’s record peacetime budget deficit, to retain the UK’s AAA status and deliver a robust economy. Has he achieve any of this? Has he fuck.



So here’s my own suggestions of stuff to stick into the budget. If I get enough positive feedback, I’m going to send George Osbourne a copy of the following, along with a slightly late, or incredibly early, Valentine’s Day card.

Cunt Tax

Like ordinary tax, but in direct proportion to how much of a cunt you are perceived to be nationwide. The best bit about Cunt Tax is that most rich people are cunts anyway and can easily afford it, and for the poor cunts who can’t afford it, they’ll have to work it off in community service and you won’t even feel sorry for them because they’re such a cunt.

Negative Tombola

Misfortunate enough to have ever went to a second-hand charity sale in a church hall? Me too, and they always have a fucking Tombola stand. With the game needing modernising anyway, why don’t they change the rules so that after purchasing a ticket, winners have to pay more money as their prize, and then all the copper proceeds go towards fixing the economy. Which probably really just goes towards paying for things like duck ponds and posh limos to Debenhams for MPs.


Only joking. Next!

Nationwide Raffle

It shouldn’t be up to the average man to save the economy, considering it was wrecked by a bunch of rich fuckwits who all ended up with plenty of money. But it probably will be. So with that in mind, why don’t we just have one big massive raffle? Tickets should cost a pound, and if we all buy at least one, with gambling addicts making up the rest, that would probably give us a fair bit to work with. The winner gets to personally boot the royal family out of Buckingham Palace and live there themselves.

Hahaha! It's funny because it's taking our economic state out of context and putting it in the context of road signs, and it works! Hahahahaha etc.

Hahaha! It’s funny because it’s taking our economic state out of context and putting it in the context of road signs, and it works! Hahahahaha etc.

Invent A New Currency

We don’t have any money, but what if there was another type of currency that we could all use to operate the economy? Then we could just start from scratch again. And if we pick something like rice, it would give poor people a turn to be rich, seeing as it’s only fair that everyone gets a go. Better yet, we could set the worth of rice to be like, a billion quid per kilo, and then it would only take a couple of bags of Tesco own brand to pay off the national debt.

Ignore The Deficit

The economic state is a fairly serious thing, but in all seriousness, has anyone actually saw the deficit? Has anyone actually saw money changing hands? Because I haven’t. It’s not like there’s a guy waiting on his money and he’s about to send the bailiffs round to smack you in face and steal your car. So why don’t we all just ignore it and it’ll probably just fuck off and leave us alone? If the guy wants his money back, we can just be all like, ‘What money? We don’t know what you’re talking about’.

And there you have it- my foolproof tips for fixing the economy. Let’s see if any of them feature in the Budget 2013. George Osbourne- if you’re reading this, you can use any or all of these ideas, but only if you accept my ‘In a relationship’ request on Facebook.

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Diet of the Month… Weight Watchers

The Weight Watcher diet originated in 1960’s America and gained strength on our side of the Atlantic when an army of black-trouser and spangly top-wearing women decided that they wanted to wear black trousers and spangly tops in slightly smaller sizes, but without eating less or exercising and maintaining the zero quality of life they enjoyed before. Hooray, what a revelation!

While it is undeniable that Weight Watcher’s heyday is long gone, paving the way for newer, lazier diets for people who just can’t arsed with anything except preparing tens of thousands of tupperware dishes full of carrot sticks and hemp to take into work and eat all day, there is still something to be said about an eating plan where you can sit on your arse all day and still lose weight. That’s some feat.

It is for this reason that I have elected Weight Watchers for ‘Diet of the Month’, which I am using to help me in my quest to contracting a rampant case of diabetes later on in life. Here’s how I got on:


Starting Weight Watchers today with an allocation of 24 points daily. Glad I ate everything in the cupboards last night, including a box of doughnuts, a cake and four litres of cider, to remove the temptation of snacking- that was a brilliant idea. Off to work today with 14 tupperware dished filled with homemade food that Weight Watchers are paid to endorse no matter how repulsive delicious Weight Watcher recipes, such as Roasted Red Pepper Crumpet Pizzas (yum, all the fun of a vegetarian, cheeseless pizza without the pizza!) and No Points Soup, which is basically just lots of soggy vegetables gargling their own faeces. Delish!

Feeling maniacally happy at the minute, and light as a feather as, despite Weight Watchers saying that on this diet, you can eat carbohydrates, the unwritten rule is that the only carb allowed near your mouth is one piece of dried Nimble bread (basically half a slice of ordinary bread). Well, little pickers wear big knickers!

Feeling my work colleagues seeth behind my back as I point out how unhealthily they’re eating, despite the fact that I’ve only been on a diet for one morning, and that I was fat and unhealthy enough to go on a diet in the first place. Jealousy.

Drive home and sit on my arse all night. *Sips Diet Coke.


Work up this morning, still on a manic high. As seems to be Weight Watchers protocol, the more you begin to starve yourself of a ‘normal’ diet, the more your body gets used to the starvation. Brilliant news! My target weight was eight stones, but now, seeing as I can, I’ll starve myself to 4 stones instead and allow myself to put on 4 stones worth of cake weight. Excellent.

Got punched in the face by someone in work today for telling them that having pasta for lunch ‘does more harm than good’. I can’t believe how unhealthy people are- now that I’ve been on this diet for a whole day, I’ve realised that other people are killing themselves with food. On my way home from work, I called in to Tesco and bought four crates of Diet Coke. Diet Coke has zero points in it so I can have as much as I want. I bet it’s full of nutrients too. *Smug face.


Weighed myself today and lost half a stone in two days- how healthy am I?! Went out and bought myself a new pair of black trousers and a spangly top in a smaller size as motivation to keep going. Don’t feel hungry at all, despite the fact that all I’ve eaten for the past day is a few cans of nutritious Diet Coke. Mmmmm….

Got invited out tomorrow night for a few drinks with friends. Currently living off lettuce leaves and Diet Coke to save up the 48 points needed for a bottle of vodka to get absolutely pissed out of my skull. Thankfully, while one bottle usually isn’t enough, I am hoping the starvation in my system acts as some sort of drunk-accelerator.


Attended a work tribunal regarding Tuesday’s assault by a work colleague earlier today. It was ruled that they had every right to punch me because I was being a [quote] ‘sanctimonious Weight Watcher bastard who thinks they know everything about diets and healthy eating, which is unlikely considering most people who do Weight Watchers gain their weight back eventually but they don’t tell you that in the fucking manual, do they?’ Jealousy.

Went out and got incredibly drunk- spent the entire night crying. Friends couldn’t tolerate me anymore so they left me in the ‘Drunk Dieting Women’ section of the nightclub, which is basically like the smoking section, but instead, houses all of the women in black trousers and spangly tops that, due to starvation, can’t handle their drink and spend the night befriending other dieting women, bonding all night over how much better they are than everyone else for sticking to Weight Watchers and saying things like, ‘I just wish my friends had the willpower to do it for themselves!’ *Sips vodka and Diet Coke.

Had a kebab on the way home. It doesn’t count if you’re so drunk that it was vomited back up anyway.


Reached that place where one becomes aware that food exists again and cannot bear one more second of starvation. Ate a pigeon on my way to work. No- I didn’t eat a pigeon. I ate four pigeons. So ashamed of myself. But pigeons aren’t in the Weight Watchers Points Guide so they were probably zero points anyway. As was all of the debris attached to the Weight Watchers cookery book, that I licked clean just to get some bits of food off it.

Went for my first weigh-in tonight (I got weighed last week but couldn’t start my diet as it wasn’t Monday yet, and under the Weight Watchers Unwritten Code Section B8.3, ‘Thou Shalt Not Start Diets Until Monday Morning. Exceptions include New Year’s Day, The Day After New Years Day (If New Year’s Day Falls On A Weekend), The Day After Your Birthday Week and Sometime After Your Holidays’). Horrified to learn that all that Diet Coke, starvation and low-fat pigeon eating was in vain as I put on four stones. Not only that, but my menstrual cycle packed up and left today with a note that said, ‘I don’t want to sit around and wait for you to start growing fur, so I’m off now’.

Myself and the other members of ‘Betty’s Weight Watcher Group in the Church Hall Friday Night at 8pm’ conspired against the Weight Watcher of the Week, cornering her in the car park, dismembering her and eating her for being such a bitch and losing weight when none of the rest of us did. *Sips Diet Coke.


Went to hospital due to a feeling of insatiable thirst, blurred vision, weakness and increased need to urinate.


Was diagnosed with diabetes. Amputated foot.

*Sips Diet Coke.

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How To Cope With The Recession: Part II

A while ago, I compiled a list of bulletproof ways to cope with the recession (here), and due to the unprecedented demand for a follow-up (someone told me the first part was so-so. Ish.), here’s Part II: How To Cope With The Recession.


If I had a penny for every time I walked past a homeless person in any given city centre, just to be warned by a friend that said homeless person was spotted earlier preparing for a day of street begging by removing their Rolex watch, leaving it in the bejewelled glove-compartment of their customised Bentley convertible, donning rags and sitting on a street corner saying, ‘Big Issue, please’, I’d be richer than this entire epidemic of millionaires who enjoy street-begging as some sort of quirky and inexplicable hobby combined. So there you have it folks, go out and get yourself a head scarf and trenchcoat to start your double life as a beggar/assumed millionaire.

Cut Your Grocery Bill in Half

While many people complain about the rising cost of food, there are a number of excellent ways to cut down on’t ‘Big Shop’, such as identifying the person who reduces the supermarkets’s out-of-date food and following them around, much like a stalker, which you can justify to yourself as being ‘thrifty’ and certainly not a danger to yourself or others. Yes, if you weren’t within the premises of Tesco, that person would be applying for a restraining order with your name on it, but if it helps you sleep at night, then asking them for a list of their shifts for the week is merely ‘making conversation with an acquaintance’. If you have morals and thus feel uncomfortable stalking someone, you can alternatively slash the price of your groceries by standing by the free samples in-store and taking umpteen cocktail sticks while saying, ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet’ to the disillusioned salesperson.

You can also employ this tactic while getting ready for a fancy night out by going into Superdrug and using the free make-up testers. Remember to get that lipstick all over your teeth or else you won’t be able to ingest the remnants of oral herpes left on the tester by the last non-paying patron.

Ask For A Payrise

Money saving goldenboy, Martin Lewis, is a pioneer of making the public’s money go further, and his first rule of thumb is to know your worth and ask your boss for a payrise if your pay is below industry norms. Even during today’s economic meltdown, asking your boss for a payrise is likely to result in a windfall as they will inevitably tell you to go fuck yourself, sack you and employ someone to do the job for half your wages. Hey presto, £70 per week you never had before claiming Jobseeker’s Allowance!

Become A Kardashian

No skills required. It doesn’t matter if you are an arsy dickhead with little to contribute to society other than the ability to make every statement you say sound like a question and occasionally bust into tears on camera, saying, ‘I mean, people think I’m all about money and material goods but they’re wrong!’ whilst similtanaeously being all about money and material goods- you’ll fit right in.

Play Online Bingo

Not only does the glamorous world of online Bingo open up a new realm of possibilities for cash prizes, new cars and holidays, you can make new friends with the  losers other Bingo players in the corresponding chatrooms, bonding over discussions of how Dazza6969 should tell his girlfriend that he took out a credit card in her name to play online Poker or watching a love story unfold between CouncilEstateBabe1 and SwanseaHotGuy4U as they start having the type of online affair that would make Kerry Katona herself say, ‘That’s a bit low-rent’. Plus, think of the money you’ll save by not getting out of bed for days while you developing manic depression. Quids in!


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Four Beauty Tips Guaranteed To Make You More Beautiful

I like to take care of myself. People constantly say ,’Oh my god, you’re so beautiful.’ ‘How do you get your hair so shiny?’ ‘What skin regime keeps your face so youthful?’ ‘How do you stay in such great shape?’ to Kim Kardashian. Which is why I can’t stand her- bitch.

As I have mentioned several times previously, I ”have a great personality”. Not one of you bastards left me a comment to say, ‘ach, you’re not as ugly as you think’. Well, FUCK YOU ALL.

And it isn’t just me. Us gals and guys are never satisfied with our looks, which is why the beauty industry has grown during the last few years when most other industries are doing the business equivalent of Martin Lewis’s Drop A Brand Challenge- which incidentally, seeing as I haven’t got a pot to piss in, I’m doing the ‘Drop a Brand Challenge’ myself and I’ve discover that Tesco ‘own brand’ peanut butter isn’t half bad. Mother, I hope you’re reading this- pat yourself on the back, you’ve raised a savage.

Anyway, being the modern day Little Match Girl has forced me to get creative when it comes to beauty, and I am going to share my four beauty tips with you so that you can, one day, be as beautiful as Kim Kardashian Laura Linney.

1. Change up your routine

It is a widely known fact that you should change up your beauty regime with the aim of ‘shocking’ your skin/hair/body with new products. I like to achieve this by shocking myself at how depressing my life is. Much like Madonna, who is known to source her skincare products from a place where the sun doesn’t shine in Japan (something to do with the mud, my internet source gushes), I operate a strict policy in order to ensure I am in tip-top condition. I source my products from Tesco Metro aisle-ends, known for their ‘cheap as fuck’ and ‘grim’ properties. My skin is always shocked at how poor I am, and always radiates a rosy glow by being embarrassed by how paltry and few my achievements are.

2. Pick an icon and ‘pay tribute’ to their style

I have often been praised for my unique style, but I must confess that I have actually based my look on an icon from yesteryear. Death row hottie, Aileen Wuornos had the ability to put her own style stamp on any generic look, whether it was 80’s prostitute, 80’s lesbian or 80’s serial killer. Inventor of the fullet (female mullet)? Aileen Wuornos. First person to rock crotchless dungarees? Aileen Wuornos. Slutifier of the orange prison jumpsuit? Aileen Wuornos. I have long been an avid student of fashion-icon Aileen Wuornos, and regularly leave my locks unwashed for days on end to achieve her ‘unwashed mullet of a homeless prostitute’ look. On occasion, I have been known to go out in a top covered in stains a la Aileen ‘drinking for free at a Floridian watering hole in exchange for sexual favours’. But it isn’t all glamour. At home, I adhere to a dressy/casual code, much like Aileen ‘on the straight and narrow by attending an interview for a lawyer job, not realising you need qualifications and more on your CV than ‘Prostitute for teen/adult life’. Aileen Wuornos- Style Icon, and Queen of our Hearts.

3. Be comfortable

Beauty literature does not have the luxury of seeing me au naturelle, which is why it is always spouting absolute bollocks that women look best when they are comfortable and freshed face. And by best, they mean an army of hairless, rashy panda babies. Yes, that’s right, male reader- she wasn’t born with it, it was fucking Maybelline. Therefore, you may as well throw on things that make you comfortable, seeing as life is futile anyhow. For me, this means pyjamas. I love pyjamas. Flannel ones, mis-matched ones, holey-crotch and armpit ones, aspiring silk but really 5% sateen Primark ones- by Christ, I love them like the Amish love humility. There is currently a bit of a movement in which wearing your pyjamas out in public has become a societal norm. I support this movement, because I am a secret tramp. I shoehorn my obesity into jeans and jackets, but in truth, I want to let it all hang out in pyjamas, Crocs and a packet of cigarettes for a handbag. I envy women who have the confidence to carry off this look, as I, too, would love to buy more scratchcards, get into a brawl on Mother’s Day that started over a dirty look and possess a palette delicate enough to truly appreciate ‘kebab on chips’. Colour me fucking gutted, I can but dream.

4. Less is more

For all you sceptics out there who don’t agree that ‘Less is more’- two words- ‘Jodie Marsh’. Jodie Marsh has lower self-esteem than the entire audience of Loose Women combined. So what does she do? She trawls around sex shops to find plastic attire with the aim of attracting muscular simpleton males with whom reality TV ‘gold’ is made. Yes, he beats her when he’s trying to come off the steroids, but then she drags her battered carcass to Heat magazine to sell her story. She wears the sort of make-up that a drag queen would describe as ‘too drag-queeny’, but she probably keeps Superdrug’s ‘Miss Sporty’ range in business- thank you for stimulating our economy, Jodie Marsh . She is solely responsibly for the slutification of today’s youth, which is arguably linked to increased promiscuity and higher teen-pregnancy and abortion rates- like a fucking icon. Jodie Marsh- Icon of our time. So what I am saying is, less self-esteem really is more.

Well, I hope these tips are of some help to you in your quest for aesthetic perfection. It’s a hard slog, but well worth it to find a man who loves you for your looks and then leaves you when you start to decay. Gravy train!

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