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In my local art shop was a large screen print dominating the window, a book as above. They said they would only take it out if they got enough complaints and offered a prize for the most imaginative use of swear words in a single sentence complaint.
So the Proud Winner of a 10% discunt wrote as follows
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“THIS IS WHERE ITS FUCKIN AT”, a common enough phrase to hear in Crouch End where Posh bastards queue outside Waitrose, hard-cock-a-hoop at their peacock shopping status and they proclaim that phrase whilst Middle England consumer wanking wanna-bees in line at M&S, secretly day-dreaming it’s S&M with a bakery selling rock-hard-cakes and they say that phrase but now we are cumming to the arse end of spending, at Tescunt Express and on the street there are packets of tarts waiting for double-entry there and they mutter it; eventually we reach the climax of your book shop, literally Pal, literatureally, all hope is drained, and I see the World through a jism of no-colours where penguins are really exhibitionist nuns and complaint is an anagram of compliant so here’s the deal -do as I bleedin’ tell you and clean your dirty window, all the way up, oh yeah, clean your dirty mouth, all the way in, oh yeah, and I clean up the prize, unless you are as spineless as a soiled paper-back in a transparent publicity cunt.
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The greater fun was popping down there today to see it had indeed been removed following too many genuine complaints. I asked about the competition and they said the winner was a very imaginative filthy anti-consumerism rant. They were most surprised that the genteel soul at the counter was the writer. I guess they noticed the absence of a dirty raincoat. I left it at home as it was too warm today.
~ haha and exactly what we could expect of you.