Rubbish, piffle, tommyrot, drivel and utter bilge

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Is It Just Me Or...?

OK, so I mentioned recently about the impending closure of the shop where I work and the recent closure of our near neighbour Shelly's Tea Rooms in my post Cynical, Me?
In it I talked about one of the employees who were gutting Shelly's and repainting it letting slip that the place was going to be turned into an ice cream parlour. Well, work has been steadily progressing and tomorrow the place actually opens for real. So, let's see... Shelly's packed up and left on the 3rd, tomorrow is the 22nd. Nineteen days have passed by and the place is ready for business. That is going some. I trust I can leave you to your own conclusions as to which pair of large balding obnoxious South African ex-cricketers own the joint. 

But leaving all that hideousness aside, I noticed something as I went outside today to have a look at the large gaily painted wooden sign which was waiting to adorn the outside of said emporium. Well, I say 'I noticed', I mean 'it hit me in the face like a freaking Mack truck because it was such a glaring error'. Here is the sign...

Please, please tell me you can see it.
Glad to see Tenterden's finest businessmen going over every detail with a fine-tooth comb. I'll leave you to make up your own jokes.


  1. What is a Cream Tea, anyway? And where are the Cream Tea's pants?

  2. Daisy, a Cream tea is a British invention, consisting of 2 scones (either plain or fruit), some jam, some cream (either whipped cream or clotted cream) and a pot of tea for two. As you can see, it neither wears pants nor deserves an apostrophe to denote a plural.

  3. Hmmmm, I love whipped cream. Clotted cream sounds like it might be a little bit delicious, too.


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