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Gone are the days when I would visit the supermarket and wander the isles, chucking in random shit that I didn’t need. For a few years now, I have been an avid fan of home delivery grocery shopping, although that also fraught with danger.

That photo up there? That is the result of me checking the boxes for a case of mini-cans on Diet Coke and one kilo of potatoes. NOT 3 potatoes and some sort of mutant Coke that nobody else has ever ordered. Because GREEN!

I feel a bit bad about whinging about home delivery shopping because someone else (an imbecile) wanders the isles and throws my stuff into a trolley for me. Quite often I will receive things that I didn’t ask for, like five kilos of oranges, but it stops me from purchasing things on a whim. Like the blackhead removing nose strips, or air freshener that promises me that it it will lull me into a synthetic state of calm, while it kills every germ known to the CSIRO.

One time I ordered one kilo of chicken breast. What turned up was one kilo of that gross pressed chicken “luncheon” meat. Do you know how much “luncheon” meat that is? It was about the same size as a large box of tissues. I am not a fan of “luncheon” meat, but it turned out that Chuy was, and he was very well fed that week. When it turned slimy, I filed it in the bin.

Fancy Feast on special? ADD TO CART. That shit is expensive.

But I will continue to march along the path of home delivery supermarket shopping, because it stops me from having to take Sonia Kluger to the smash repairers several times a year.

Have you ever had a home delivery supermarket fuck up?

I would love to hear about it.