| Tuesday, March 21, 2006 |
 | Gosh. Middle-class people with university degrees often do quite well for themselves. The Guardian never ceases to amaze. With t3h suck.
Elsewhere, being directed to this startlingly awful but hypnotic and indubitably memorable radio advert for Flintshire Motors reminded me of Don Amott. Don Amott was Derbyshire's caravan king. Throughout the East Midlands, a child could be confident that a bond could be formed with any wight, be they ever so froward, by the stentorian assertion of Amott's royalty, and the reciprocal belllowing of the complementary phrase. Many a fight was averted by this ritual, after which both parties were left feeling sated but a little shamed.
For long years, along with Ultra Magnus' status as a gay icon and the Joycean subtexts in Ulysses 31, I found myself unable precisely to explain what all of this meant to more sophisticated minds. Now, however, thanks to the Internet, the clouds have meaning.
Go here, and listen to the Don Amott jingle. Do that about three times in a row. Repeat every couple of hours every day for the next decade. Then have a think about whether poor site usability is the only thing for which Smith East Associates must be punished.
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