I told you all along that the Death Star was a spent force.
How Darth Leahy must be rueing the day Tim Mason took the step over the pond, surf board in one hand and Value Sunscreen in the other. How was the man that Cheshunt insiders refer to in hushed tones as "vain and gobby" to know that the entire universe was heading for financial Armageddon and that his derelict Flesh & Sleazy outfit would be about as welcome as a bagel in Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's lunchbox?
Well he could have read the papers like anyone else, of course, but from the sound of it that would have been taking the due diligence into uncharted territory. No, as I recall it, Mason satisfied himself by shacking up with some Yanks for a couple of weeks to "see what they buy". Tim, if you need to see a gang of lardbuckets shovelling doughnuts, Coke and batter-fried transfat into their trolleys then just pop down to the Kilmarnock branch of Asda any evening you like.
These days, £3.1bn in profits is pretty much chump change but even the BBC's finest were still struggling to put Tesco's £59bn top line into context for Radio 4's famously inbred listeners. "That's over a billion pounds a week, Jim," one dozy hack ventured.
I would have said "no shit," but then again I've seen the Discounter range at close quarters.
But here's the skinny. El Tel doesn't know how lucky he is. My moribund former boss Darling Alistair was on the blower within seconds of the announcement. The poor dear had been tearing his hirsute eyebrows out trying to fill the void in his wretched budget, and in deranged desperation he demanded that I draft the Tesco (Nationalisation) Bill 2009.
My initial soundings unearthed some support for the idea, but then if you want intelligent reaction don't canvas the Parliamentary Labour Party. Fortunately it's all gone a bit quiet, so I assume Darling bought my alternative fundraising wheeze. Big Issue, squire?
How Darth Leahy must be rueing the day Tim Mason took the step over the pond, surf board in one hand and Value Sunscreen in the other. How was the man that Cheshunt insiders refer to in hushed tones as "vain and gobby" to know that the entire universe was heading for financial Armageddon and that his derelict Flesh & Sleazy outfit would be about as welcome as a bagel in Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's lunchbox?
Well he could have read the papers like anyone else, of course, but from the sound of it that would have been taking the due diligence into uncharted territory. No, as I recall it, Mason satisfied himself by shacking up with some Yanks for a couple of weeks to "see what they buy". Tim, if you need to see a gang of lardbuckets shovelling doughnuts, Coke and batter-fried transfat into their trolleys then just pop down to the Kilmarnock branch of Asda any evening you like.
These days, £3.1bn in profits is pretty much chump change but even the BBC's finest were still struggling to put Tesco's £59bn top line into context for Radio 4's famously inbred listeners. "That's over a billion pounds a week, Jim," one dozy hack ventured.
I would have said "no shit," but then again I've seen the Discounter range at close quarters.
But here's the skinny. El Tel doesn't know how lucky he is. My moribund former boss Darling Alistair was on the blower within seconds of the announcement. The poor dear had been tearing his hirsute eyebrows out trying to fill the void in his wretched budget, and in deranged desperation he demanded that I draft the Tesco (Nationalisation) Bill 2009.
My initial soundings unearthed some support for the idea, but then if you want intelligent reaction don't canvas the Parliamentary Labour Party. Fortunately it's all gone a bit quiet, so I assume Darling bought my alternative fundraising wheeze. Big Issue, squire?
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