Skip to main content

Paws for thought

I noticed recently that Purina's Gourmet Perle is truly the cat's whiskers. The sachets of tasty morsels, much beloved of hungry felines, are branded either Chef's Collection or Connoiseur's Collection (sic).

In the first instance, I'm wondering who exactly this lucky chef is.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the Purina kitchen. (Not that there would be any flies on the wall, of course, in such a reputable establishment.) But I have images of Gordon Ramsay marshalling a team of staff.

"What the f*** exactly is this s***? You think this is good enough for Kitty? This is Gourmet Perle we're talking about. If you think that's going in my collection, you've got another f***ing think coming!"

When it comes to the Connoisseur, I'm thinking it's unfortunate that their high standards in matters culinary don't extend to spelling. But cats aren't known for their grasp of the 3Rs, I guess.


Mmm... perhaps just a pinch more salt: Chef prepares his next Gourmet Perle collection


Purina's Gourmet Perle may spell a tasty meal, but spelling isn't its strong point.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...

Special Constable update

I've now studied the Special Constable poster in more detail (see blogs passim ) and can reveal the idea is even more complex and bizarre than I first thought. You'll recall that a Special is on some seedy looking street corner, just yards away from where a drug deal is in progress. He's keenly observing events and looks ready to take some kind of action. The copy says that Specials wear uniform and always have back-up. But this guy is on his own in plain clothes. Worrying. Perhaps he's off duty but just can't leave the policing thing alone? Once a part-time copper, always a part-time copper. But wait. There is back up. It comes in the form of the constable's own reflection in a puddle. If he took his eyes off the criminal activity for just a second and took the trouble to look down at his feet, he'd see that in Puddle Land, he is wearing a uniform and carrying a radio. There's enough material here to fill a semiotics seminar for a day. If I disco...

When one name isn't enough

You may have heard the news reports about the turmoil in Kingston, Jamaica, resulting from the government's attempts to pin down a notorious drug lord on behalf of the US. I was struck by the number of self-styled monikers this guy has given himself. He is, depending on the channel you listen to, known on the street as 'Dudas', 'The Big Man' and 'The President' - worshipped by many impoverished Kingston residents as a benefactor to slum dwellers. It's his real name that seems most appropriate, however. If you were a drug baron called Christopher Coke, wouldn't you leave it at that? It's certainly not a name to be sniffed at.