And now to bed.
It’s been a fun-packed, action-filled evening.
Soph’s dillied and dallied her way through an essay prep.
I’ve dozed my way through Clear and Present Danger.
The thing is, with watching television when half asleep, is that one’s brain freewheels.
Especially when the adverts interrupt the programming.
Femfresh, that’s been advertised a lot this evening.
Why?
Does a study of the television-watching audience indicate that there’s a large proportion of the Sunday evening film viewership who have, erm, odorous bits?
And why doesn’t the Femfresh advert come right out and say what the product is for?
How coy is that?
It’s like watching an advert for HSBC that doesn’t actually mention money or accounts or credit cards or loans.
Which is, of course, precisely what HSBC adverts don’t do.
So there we have it; Femfresh manufacturers are shy.
So here, courtesy of a tired brain, is my advertising slogan – in an Ordinary People kind of way.
Femfresh. For women with smelly c*nts.
There.
I said it.
That’ll be £50,000 please Femfresh.
B.