Mr Wheat says "sack the bloody lot of us"

according to the book 'fast food nation', there is something called 'character appeal quadrant analysis' ran by the 'character lab', (i remember the name 'interbrand' coming in here, too [google it]). caqa is a process undertaken to determine the popularity of cartoon mascots for products aimed at children.

kellogs have existed since before caqa, and have probably never used it, which explains the sloppy mess that is 'mr wheat'.

i mean fuck, look at him. i can't remember the name of the product - i think it was the dwisott 'frosted wheats' - but how could kellogs make a worse job of promoting this often-canceled cereal concept?
lets take mr. wheat apart.

firstly, what is he? he is a frosted wheat - a pillow of spun wheat, like a small shredded wheat. that's not too bad an idea to begin with, but it's not going to make him cute, if that's the objective. i mean, he's just like a primitive shreddie really. note that he's not actually wheat in it's purest form, which could get a bit like joseph's dream (you know, with all the other bunches of wheat bowing down to him).

secondly, his none-wheat bits - we've got disembodied, floating, gloved, hands (is there actually anything in them at all, or is he just moving them around with the power of his mind?), and two eyes. dark, mournful eyes. souless, confused, and very worried eyes.

so thirdly, his mouth. the horror. do you remember oogie boogie in 'tim burton's nightmare before christmas'? a big sack of awful bugs? that's what mr wheat's mouth reminds me of. it's dark in there. it's empty, or rather, it's just made of wierd animated wheat, like some gluten golem.

also, he has a big silver back like an elderly gorilla, or so i infer from the picture of the frosted wheats themselves.

lastly, at the bottom of the pack are more mr. wheats.. so our mr wheat is not the only one. there's millions of them, and they all look as terrible as the huge one. and mr wheat is about to commit cannibalism by eating a bowl of himself.

mr wheat most reminds me of 'pizza the hutt' from mel brook's 'spaceballs', and i think that's why i hate him so much.

Lloyds TSB

Well at least he admitted it was a stupid idea.

"So what you're saying, despite my bills coming here, that you sent my credit card and my pin number to an address more than 400 miles away, where I haven't lived for nearly two years, where it was opened by someone else and then forwaded on to me via another address, because your computer says my current flat is not secure?"

Rather than post my card and pin to say, my billing address (coincidentally my house - the place where I like my statements to arrive, and also my FUCKING CREDIT CARD) they sent it to a house in Darlington, where I only lived for half a year, more than 18 months ago. Not the best action to take normally, but given that their motive was security, it's pretty bloody laughable.

The new supermarket

It's a phenomenon that many people will be familiar with - the metamorphosis of their local Safeway into their local Morrisons. After four days I plucked up the courage to go inside. It wasn't a promising start, after spending thousands of pounds on a face lift they still hadn't thought to put in bike racks, so I joined all the other cyclists in chaining it to anything vaguely stationary.

I think they have squeezed in an extra aisle. There barely seems enough room for two trolleys to pass each other now. Along the top end, the main way across the aisles by the meat and cheese counters, they have stuck square bins of food (with little tent-like roofs, presumably to keep the rain off should the main ceiling be torn off) which forced everyone to crash into each other.

This twee shop keeper look also extends to the fruit and veg section and to the maroon aprons that staff are forced to wear. I hate maroon uniforms. I blame this on my old school.

I've forgotten what music was playing but I'm sure the new store plays it louder. I spend a lot of time in supermarkets being unable to decide what I want because of the sheer amount of products (I think there is a phrase for this - consumer mental saturation - or along those lines) but because of the new store staff are too quick to try and help. I was standing still, trying not to scream, and this guy whizzes around a corner saying, "You look lost mate? What are you looking for?"
"Oh, erm, I'm always lost in these place. I don't know, I'm fine, thanks."
Friendly enough, but from that point on I kept in a state of perpetual motion, just in case I might be forced to explain myself again. I walked continuously around the store grabbing stuff of the shelf when I thought I might prove useful.

At the counter something which sounded like a fire alarm had gone off. I say sounded like because no-one was making any effort to leave the building, despite the loud irritating noise. Another staff member carrying a small bag walked up to me and asked if I was the guy who wanted the Playstation II. I said I would if one was going and she walked to the next checkout.