Dearly Beloved (I know this excludes almost all of you but read on). You will no doubt have noticed an unusual sense of levity in the air, of gay celebration. Perhaps you have that certain, indefinable feeling of satisfaction you get from eking another basis point of margin out of some bankrupt dairy farmer or from seeing the shutters go up at some repulsive local c-store.
Need I then remind you that this is the first anniversary of my appointment to DRIP? And what a successful era this has been! My dearly departed boss Alistair Darling must be wishing he'd stayed on to enjoy the reflected fruits of my labours (if you'll excuse a mixed metaphor worthy of Asda's press office).
Over the year, Mrs Rolfe the departmental cleaner and I have fought off food scares, flooding, pestilence and plague, and that's just at the local Nisa Today's. We've conquered the might of the big four - need I say El Tel, Bond Andy Bond, King Justin, Marc Bolan and these days even Markup de Price now quiver at the mention of my very name? But by far the greatest of my accomplishments (apart from sacking Danaher the DRIP driver for filling up with neat silicon at Tesco last year) is, of course, keeping the dreaded demon Food Price Inflation in check.
Now, given the semi-literate nature of my fan base- you probably all 'read' the Daily Express or Daily Mail; I've seen your lips move silently as you stare at the pictures - you may think prices are rampaging ever higher. Yes, we all know a Waitrose Wholemeal and Sundried Quince Pilates Bite now costs more than a Ford Focus, but t'was ever thus. In fact, as this proud organ nobly demonstrated last week, yer axual food price inflation is nugatory. No, that's not a type of sweet.
So we shall see what Freeman's Commission for the Long Grass makes of it all. Competition rules, and it's a knighthood for me or my name's not Pomsey.
Need I then remind you that this is the first anniversary of my appointment to DRIP? And what a successful era this has been! My dearly departed boss Alistair Darling must be wishing he'd stayed on to enjoy the reflected fruits of my labours (if you'll excuse a mixed metaphor worthy of Asda's press office).
Over the year, Mrs Rolfe the departmental cleaner and I have fought off food scares, flooding, pestilence and plague, and that's just at the local Nisa Today's. We've conquered the might of the big four - need I say El Tel, Bond Andy Bond, King Justin, Marc Bolan and these days even Markup de Price now quiver at the mention of my very name? But by far the greatest of my accomplishments (apart from sacking Danaher the DRIP driver for filling up with neat silicon at Tesco last year) is, of course, keeping the dreaded demon Food Price Inflation in check.
Now, given the semi-literate nature of my fan base- you probably all 'read' the Daily Express or Daily Mail; I've seen your lips move silently as you stare at the pictures - you may think prices are rampaging ever higher. Yes, we all know a Waitrose Wholemeal and Sundried Quince Pilates Bite now costs more than a Ford Focus, but t'was ever thus. In fact, as this proud organ nobly demonstrated last week, yer axual food price inflation is nugatory. No, that's not a type of sweet.
So we shall see what Freeman's Commission for the Long Grass makes of it all. Competition rules, and it's a knighthood for me or my name's not Pomsey.
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