dagbladet wrote:Bloody ditters in supermarkets. On one occasion I got my own personal ditter in Asda. Everywhere i went she was there fucking dittering over which bunch of bananas to have, all the while blocking the entire banana shelf with her trolley and her poxy tartan push along thingy. Tinned soup, there she is again! She possessed some superpower that transported her to wherever I went next and there she was bloody dittering and getting in my road picking things up, reading the bloody salt content with the packet one inch from her eyes because she left her readers in her other cardie, sniffing tins, putting them back, moving every single one and then making to move off only to slide back in just as I'm reaching for the shelf, clattering my shins with the poxy tartan jobby before she announces " ooh there's so many things I cant choose can you?". Yes, yes I can, go to fucking Arkwrights shop if Asda is too overwhelming ya mad old git!
Sniffing tins?