Is this the end of the clingfilm?
As the last packed lunch
in the UK gets packed in, Osbourne Bark finds
out why.
It looks like it's a wrap
for wraps like famed former lunchbox-lining linchpin
clingfilm thanks to swank sandwich shops and their
pre-packaged posh nosh putting packed lunch
products butt out of the butty business.
Men who used to slip two spam
sarnies and a scotch egg inside some cellophane
and then into their trouser pockets before setting
off to the office are instead Pretting crusty
baguettes made only moments before to the sound
of jazz, thus breaking the sacred sandwich/clingfilm
cycle of yesteryear.
And women who work, like secretaries
and whores, have turned their backs on shrinkwrapped
shrimp baps and turned their tits towards sandwiches
in fancy cardboard boxes, already shaped into
the shape of sandwiches.
Even tots are giving homemade
lunches the suckled finger, threatening to wee
their knickers if they don't get some sort of
cheesy biscuit dip mix smartish, in pots.
The knock on effect has knocked
the industry on for six and possibly even seven.
Crying clingy film maker Richard
Attenborough commented: 'We're foiled.' But he
wasn't. He was clung.
In a parallel development, flask
magnates Thermos are offering Starbucks 'and their
frothy -milked ilk' out for a scrap. 'We're cheaper
and better and about ten times as hard as you,'
said MD Amos Thermos to the shift manager in the
Beak Street branch of Costa last night.
The shift manager was foreign
and only knew coffee words and thus declined to
comment. |
