I hate Spar shops.

First up the gang of feral fuckwits who always hang about outside. Then the four mile bastard line of fucked off customers who want some sodding service before the return of Christ, whilst a gang of staff argue about the price on a bleedin carton of Jaffa Cakes, which is all the bloke at the font of the line wanted an by the look on his face now regrets picking up.

Oh and what the fucking hell is with re-organising the shop every few weeks? For fucks sake, all I want is basics like bread an milk not an exercise in hunter gathering. Cunts.

Oh an never ask the staff where stuff is, first off they are out the back having a sly smoke(or in a group hug discussing the pricing of fucking Jaffa Cakes) an secondly they just look blank, point at the supervisor who is the only one working an tell you to ask them. Despite the fact they have a line of people to serve.

Although it was amusing listening to a few Afro-Saxon's in the line behind me talking all urban an who still have not woken up to the fact that Ali G was a piss take of them.

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