Tag Archives: shopping

Governor Kemp opens Georgia for business, and the hell with some potential irritating minor infections.

 
Brother Brian’s Economic Revival Show.

Governor Kemp’s sweatin’ on gettin’ Georgia’s economy going,
Some may even justifiably say Brian is in a damned awful hurry,
He wants to get cash flowing even as Covid cases keep growing,
Being morally bankrupt means spreading death’s less of a worry.

‘Buy that first Big Mac, spring for a tat, slug down that latte,
Go Mall strolling, go ten-pin bowling, grab that full massage,
Catch up with old friends, plan for a weekend long party,
Invite in-laws, outlaws, gather together the entire entourage.’

Governor Kemp’s decision has been peremptorily made,
Kemp’s health experts advised him to go slowly but surely,
But his wealthy cohorts exert the upper hand, I’m afraid;
Will Quickdraw come to rue playing his hand prematurely?

 

©Obbverse

This Covid-19 panic-buying is simply sick, bordering on the irrational. Just wander down to your local Ralph’s and observe, if you dare.

Patience, Zero.

I’m sick of staying home, and bored,
All that sage advice would be ignored,
I went down to Ralph’s, I joined the horde;
No-one tells this shopper ‘don’t go overboard.’

There’s folk flippin’ out all over the place-
C’mon guys, give a man some personal space-
I need to grab a few more toilet rolls, just in case-
And don’t dare laugh, splutter or cough in my face.

When my sweet spouse
Saw me out of the house
She handed me a gunny sack
Said, ‘fill it or don’t come back.’

Yes, I have my ID, why do you ask?
Oh yeah, I’m hidden behind my mask,
I’ve been charged with but one lawful task,
‘More toilet rolls and sanitizer, buy the cask.’

My hands are full of toilet rolls, the full gross,
Cashier, keep your distance, don’t come too close,
I’ll swipe my card, gimme my receipt and I’ll say ‘adios,’
I should be home, in my sick bed, not risking a second dose.

 

©Obbverse.

In these Coronavirus times of trouble, proof of good fellowship is just around the corner. If not, let’s shop around. (Somewhat sad and somewhat true.)

Stripped Clean.

I thought it was time to do a quick shop,
Down to my local grocer I’d quickly pop,
But when I stepped in, lo and behold
There was scarcely much left to be sold.

No, there was not a lot left of anything,
The shop held naught but a hollow ring,
Dick’s hadn’t been this empty in many a day,
Bare shelves made his an embarrassing display.

No soap spray, no eggs, no milk, no flour, no pasta,
This little shopping trip was looking a major disaster,
No tinned tuna, no baked beans, scarcely a grain of rice
And I wouldn’t buy Dick’s old chicken sushi at any price.

The manager sidled up, whispered in my ear
That because I was a regular customer here
He could offer me an under-the-counter deal,
But his little bargain soon sounded like a steal.

If I wanted a dab of hand sanitiser I was in luck,
For me, a mere twenty bucks, fresh off the truck,
And a one-off offer of a singularly prized toilet roll-
For another twenty, and the promise of a mortal soul.

After two minutes of character assessment, (time well spent,)
I looked him in the shifty eye and out his dark door I went,
It’s wonderful to be reminded that when in times of need
One common thing humanity never runs short of is greed.

 

©Obbverse

Who does not like to see things being re-purposed, recycled, or reclaimed? Sometimes though, after the shabby-chic treatment don’t you just feel re-used?

Up Cycled.

We’ve recently taken a pedal into an old part of town,
It’s long been tagged as unsavoury and well run down,
But now it’s been all tarted-up, prettified and gentrified,
It’s been well flipped so as to show its bright not dark side.

For ever it’s been dumped on the wrong side of the tracks,
Here, even bad-as Hells Angels warily watch their backs,
The river runs high with rancid sludge and a ranker smell,
Even before the bikies ran out this ‘hood had gone to Hell.

But now the Victorian ruins have been lavishly restored,
The brick-work water-blasted, all rotten flaws refloored,
Now the developers can look at their enterprise with pride,
Cashed-up customers come a’flocking in from far and wide.

They’ve re-roofed the three-sheets-to-the-wind rusted roof,
The trusty developers reassure the tenants all is water-proof,
They’ve made a cash cow by scouring out the old Tannery site,
The lucky tenant’s leases are iron-clad and screwed down tight.

So, we dismounted our mountain bikes and strolled around,
What a fine array of whimsically priced fripperies we found,
A Tea Room charmingly infused with every blend of Specialtea
With organic free-range scones totally gluten and taste free!

Here, a hipster’s barber, complete with cravat, fedora and cheap cigar-
There, a ladies retreat, all sweet lotions, micellar waters, a stone cold spa-
Everywhere, wild-flowers, scented candles, potpourri perfumigate the air
Upstairs, a purveyor of pre-owned books, each volume precious and rare.

Behind the polished glass, hidden by glossy Grisham’s and Attwood’s
Lurking deep in shadow and dusty hibernation I spied the real goods,
What price the grubby Greene, what cost that long lost Crusoe?
I’d love to recover poor old Robinson but there’s only so far I dare go.

I admit I lingered longingly at the Lady Chatterley chastely tucked away
High above the wall of Da Vinci Browns and unmoving Shades of Grey,
We ended with a stroll down memory lane, perusing the Antique Shoppe,
To count the cost of junk wed’e once tossed away- I felt my heart might stop.

We’re not the demographic here,we don’t rashly rush in, buy and large
But we lined up at a ‘cantina’ and after coughing up the cover charge,
We laughed off our al fresco ale, our cracker topped with a sprig of rocket
Then pedalled off with hollow smiles, heavy hearts and a lighter pocket.

Christmas is a’coming, bring on Kris Kringle, bring on them Christmas carols, ring on those clanking bells…

Clapped Out At Christmas.

Dang, I hadn’t completed my gift shopping after all,
So around our madhouse of a mall I rush pell-mell,
One good thing about our fetid crowded big-ass mall
Is air-conditioning that at least makes this a fresh hell.

Still, that fat-mouthed jolly Santa faintly smells-
A hint, a delicate whiff from his reindeer’s stalls?
Yo, Santa Claus, kindly stow your jingling bells
Cause Kris, I’m apt to break some Christmas balls.

As I pay and walk away my high(?) spirits begin to fall
As I hear the music from the Salvation Army band swell,
Their sadly out-of-tune caroling drove me up the wall
So I’ve decked the halls and two bell-ringers as well.

 

 

©Obbverse

Christmas is coming, get ready for the festivities, the revelries, the tinsel, the happiness, the seasonal joy. Yet amongst the all this sappiness let us retain a memory of Christmas past.

All About The Christmas Presence.

Down at the mall they’ve stuck up the tree,
There’s Christmas carols blaring out repeatedly,
Every jangle from ‘The First Noel’ to ‘Jingle Bells’-
Peace and harmony, at nigh on a hundred decibels.

Belafonte’s belting out ‘The Little Drummer Boy’
Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’ is beginning to annoy,
I know by heart ‘Snoopy’s Christmas’s’ idiot refrain,
And round comes Harry’s pa rum pum pum  again.

Stretched shopping bags are groaning,
Once chatty assistants are monotoning,
In their empty eyes the thousand-yard stare
As you join the queue you share their despair.

Standing in line, time pointlessly expended,
Praying your line of credit isn’t over-extended,
Stuck behind a snotty kid who tromps on your toes;
Wouldn’t you love to give Rudey a bloody red nose?

But

There’s more to Christmas than spending scores in stores
And we’ve lived too long to believe in a jolly Santa Claus,
What would we give to spend some Christmas cheer
With a select few who’ve gone on and left us here?