I have a love affair with the 99p stores. I swear each time we go in there for our fortnightly shop, Jaz disintegrates a little bit more inside. It is tantamount to him releasing his partner and limitless credit card into Harrods. 


Rows of spices. Pots of Patak's curry. The Pick 'n' Mix aisle. Boxes upon boxes of instant noodles. Crisps! Biscuits! Bags of sugar. 4 pinter milk! Boxes of cereal!


All for under £1. 


And let's not forget toiletries. I'll just grab something off the shelf and smile at him and I know, he dies a little bit more inside. And they have a mini garden center in there. We may not have a garden now but one day we will and then, I can whip out my Emergency Gardening Tools. And plant Petunias. Just so that I can tell friends and neighbours that I plant Petunias and bask in that moment of Delusional Grandeur. 


Dog collars, leashes, massive bags of dog food and cute little bowls. Let us just buy that for our imaginary dog, Katherine. Katherine... Our German Shepherd. And our Siberian Husky, Jeff. They be bug massive dogs. None of them pissy little Chihuahuas or Pomeranians. Our imaginary dogs be massive, I say! We can buy all the doggy accessories and put them in the corner of our bedroom and be happy. 


Sanitary pads, tampons, panty liners. Do I need all of them, he asks. Of course. All of them nice, glitzy 99p things for one vagina. Of course I need all of them. You silly man.