Whilst the donkey sanctuary people have me hawking clotted cream from the back of a mule round the champagne-stained gutters of Wilmslow, I often find myself daydreaming about advertising.
I had a really fucking odd daydream today. Only, I realised it wasn't a dream at all. It was this.
That's right, it was all about this singing prick in a German car, dee-da-da-da-da, denying reality, tra-la-la-la-li, talking to the Jews -I mean the SHEEP- in the butchers van... from inside his HAPPY GERMAN car...
(No, no, no, that's not a jackboot on my face. It's a lovely soft pillow...)
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