It saddens us, dear reader, when all our efforts to make the world a better place for consumers go unnoticed, and instead we’re accused of juvenile schoolboy behaviour in a desperately pathetic bid to score some linkbait. We can’t tell you how much it hurts, how much your withering cynicism cuts us to the bone.

In other news, here’s some cock flavoured soup and Best Shito hot pepper sauce:

As spotted in ASDA in Slough by avid Bitterwallet reader Mark. What do you mean, you’ve seen it before? Balls to you, sir. We’re washed up hacks and too drunk to type. It’s all we have to give.

[From Amazon. Thanks to avid Bitterwallet reader Natalie]

Thanks to HUKD member Martin Ellson and avid Bitterwallet reader Billy for bringing to our attention the shoddiest piece of World Cup merchandise we’ve seen since the Wayne Rooney hatstand, and it can be yours right now for just £245 at ASDA:

Isn’t it sweet? And classy. Yessir – if you don’t buy one right now, you’re not a true fan. We can’t think of a better way to support England in South Africa this summer than by purchasing a crappy netbook with a Danish-coloured flag slapped on. Er. And the blurb agrees! Sort of:

You’ve got the shirt, you’ve got the scarf, you’ve got the flag, now get the official England FA laptop, and show your support to the lads. The official England laptop will support the FA’s ‘Invest In The Game’ scheme, which sees any surplus from merchandising put back into football at grass roots level. Fans can feel confident that by purchasing this product, as well as supporting their national heroes, they are also investing in the future of the beautiful game.

Is that so? If I buy one, will it mean our national football team will stop sticking it in anything with a hole and crack on with playing football? No? Oh. Bitterwallet – backing England all the way to the quarter-finals.

Ah, we haven’t had any vaguely amusing spelling mistakes for at least a day. To save you suffering from withdrawl symptoms, here’s a photo from avid Bitterwallet reader Ed, taken in his local ASDA. To be fair, the chap on the box with the bow does look quite muscular:

Any more? Yes? Good. Send them to bitterwallet@gmail.com.

From today’s Financial Times. Just don’t all rush at once…

[Londonist]

I haven’t swung by HMV for a while, but I recall seeing this type of thing happen in the past. Avid Bitterwallet reader Kirsty and her chum bought a pair a headphones in a sale at the Bullring store in Birmingham, only to discover shortly afterward that she hadn’t saved a bean:

General electronic doofery or the curse of having a new sale every other day? You decide. Or, alternatively, don’t. Send more, none or less of the same to bitterwallet@gmail.com.

Thanks to avid Bitterwallet reader Nik Johnson

The IKEA Family card – there’s no need to have a family to have one – it’s only a loyalty card, not a ball-and-chain. There are some decent advantages to this particular piece of plastic – free tea and coffee in the restaurant, discounts and “invitations to in-store home furnishing events”. You lucky bastards.

Not all the offers are much cop, though – avid Bitterwallet reader and IKEA Family card holder Richard was a little irritated to find the one item he wanted to order for a present offered a less-than generous discount:

Send more or less of this nonsense if you please, to bitterwallet@gmail.com.

Avid Bitterwallet reader Dan is getting on a bit, and he’s not afraid to admit it:

“As I’m getting older and generally drinking more I’ve noticed I’m beginning to forget important dates, so I started trawling the net to look for a diary for keeping dates and anniversaries. I later found out I was actually looking for something called a birthday book. That’s when I spotted this online at WH Smiths:”

But click on the larger image, and:

It’s not a mandatory P&P charge – the options for delivery state that collection in-store and first-class delivery are free. Probably just an out-of-date photo then, so let us know if you spot one for sale in-store. After all, charging a 22 per cent mark-up for an online sale would be rude.

Avid Bitterwallet reader Andy is one of those clever chaps that writes computer programmes. It’s his type that will inevitably lead to the US missile programme developing a maniacal AI and the eventual thermonuclear obliteration of mankind. Cheers Andy. In the meantime, he’s been tickled by the generosity of his local ASDA in Bristol:

If you can take time out from bringing on the End of Days by popping to the shops, send the results to bitterwallet@gmail.com

Brian Fantana: It’s illegal in nine countries. Yep, it’s made with bits of real panther, so you know it’s good.
Ron Burgundy: It’s quite pungent.
Brian Fantana: Oh yeah.
Ron Burgundy: It’s a formidable scent. It stings the nostrils. In a good way.
Brian Fantana: Yep.
Ron Burgundy: Brian, I’m gonna be honest with you, that smells like pure gasoline.
Brian Fantana: They’ve done studies, you know. 60 per cent of the time it works, every time.
Ron Burgundy: That doesn’t make sense.

Of course they were referring to fictional eau de toilette Sex Panther, rather than a “lush blend of galanga and vodka drizzled over notes of Iris and dark chocolate” which only sounds made up. Either way, the numbers involved make less sense than a horse’s fist. Thanks to Bitterwallet reader Joe who ’scent’ in this basket blunder. Send none, more or less to bitterwallet@gmail.com.

We’ll be dead honest with you – if we were in charge of flogging cheap pairs of glasses online, it would never occur to us to name a range of frames after a sexual deviant. Well, it’d probably our first thought, but we wouldn’t actually go through with it.

Maybe that’s why we’re a bunch a lazy failed hacks who sit on our fat arses all day, and not the marketing gurus at Perfect Glasses, because instead of pretentious names such as Hero or Azure, Perfect Glasses have taken a far more revealing approach:

Thanks to avid Bitterwallet reader Esther for that. Anymore? Send it all to bitterwallet@gmail.com

We’re not fans of overly flamboyant daytime pot-botherer Ainsley Harriott. And as for the exotic range of fancy couscous he mercilessly flogs, you can screw off if you think we’re paying that while doing the big shop at Lidl:

Thanks to avid Bitterwallet reader Stuart for the photo. Seen any half-cocked pricing banality? Does the sight of Ainsley Harriott mugging to the camera make you cry? Tell us all about it at bitterwallet@gmail.com.

When is a deal not a deal? To be honest, I’ve no idea how to answer a stupid question like that. However, at least my rudimentary numerical skills are better than those trout brained dolts at Tesco who have got yet another crappy Yellow Label offer currently running on their orange juice:

That said, Tesco are rather wealthy, so maybe I shouldn’t slag their maths off. I can still take umbrage with them being robbing bastards though.

[SignsThatFascinateAndIntrigue]

It maybe be a brand new year, but we’re keen to trot out the same half-arsed nonsense that has endeared us to you, the avid Bitterwallet reader over the past twelve months. Just because the rich and the famous are reading Bitterwallet these days – actor Peter Haplin, to name just one – there’s still plenty of less cerebral content for commoners like yourself to enjoy.

For instance, there’s this tremendous bargain now available at Amazon – a Jane Shilton Harrow Small Zip Detail Crossbody Bag:

An incredible deal, as spotted by HUKD member and Bitterwallet fan hdizzle. Any more? Send them to bitterwallet@gmail.com.  Bitterwallet – as read by Peter Haplin.