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'Tis true, you can't get whispa bars anymore. Mrs V often laments this fact when we find ourselves in the confectionery aisle. She also bemoans the fact that you can't get a rum-flavoured dairy milk variation called Old Jamaican these days, as well. Mind you, there's a fairly obvious reason for that. Shop assistants probably got sick of endless exchanges like the following:
Customer: I would like a packet of Space Raiders, a carton of Kia Ora, and...an Old Jamaican.
Assistant (sighing inwardly): Okay...there you go...
Customer: I am going to eat an Old Jamaican.
Assistant: Yes, I imagine you are, you have bought it...
Customer: Yes indeedy, when I finish school of an evening, there's nothing I like better than getting my lips around an Old Jamaican!
Assistant: Yes, well, each to their own, now...
Customer: You see, the joke I am making is that consuming this chocolate bar is akin to engaging in an act of oral sex with an old black bloke. Do you see?
Assistant: Oh, right. Yeah. Like I've never heard that before. In that case, would you like some Turkish Delight?
Customer: You sick fuck.
Obviously of course this would indicate that the banning of OJ occurred at a time when retail unions still had some degree of bargaining power. These days the confectionery giants could release a choc bar called Smegma-sodden Fuckstick and sales staff would just have to smile sweetly when people bought it. |
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