There’s a cafe near me. They have boards outside. I presume they’re there to lure the people of Hammersmith inside with their wit and quirky charm. In fact they’re just a terribly middle class version of the ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here…’ signs of yesteryear. Come on in, they seem to say, we’re funky, fun-loving and cool a nest of utter fucking twats.
Every time I walk past they have a new one…
And every one is worse than the last…
Are they copying them out of a shitty book?
Or is there some cut-price Purple Ronnie working behind the state-of-the-art espresso/yummy mummy bilking machine?
Exclamation! Marks! Now you know! It’s funny!
So, listen up, Lola & Simon (yes, this is the blog that names names), if you insist on putting these boards out then I’m going to keep taking photos of them and putting them on the internet and mocking them and, and… I think this is what a breakdown feels like.