You know an area of town or a shopping centre is spiralling into decline by the number of pound shops there are selling everything from chocolate biscuits to ladies pants.
Although I'd like to put on record that I'd hate to see the misformed arses that could fit into some of the double gusset, semi detached drawers I've seen scattered around the shelves in those places. The poor shop assistants don't know whether to stack the damn things in the clothing aisle or the camping aisle as a single man tent such is the quality and cut of the pound pants.
But don't let me stop at the pound pants. For surely anyone buying anything out of a pound shop must question that if its only a pound AND the shop is still making profit what does that tell you about the quality of that £1 frying pan that you're about to buy that's more likely to melt before the bacon has had a chance to even think about getting remotely warm. Or that packet of batteries that would be better put to use as paperweights for all the energy that's stored in them.
What's even more ludicrous is that there are even posh pound shops in the shape of Poundland that try to fool the shopper with their branded polythene bags, smart uniforms and electronic till points but they still can't hide the fact that it's the same load of shite that all the other pound shops sell.
And you can't use the argument of that is all some people can afford because it only takes half a brain to figure out that the whole concept is a rip off. You could buy, for instance, a washing line out of the pound shop that is more than likely going to leave all your washing in a nice orderly row on the ground due to having all the tensile strength of a piece of wet spaghetti than the £3 equivalent from your superstore.
But how many people will take the dodgy washing line back and instead just say to themselves "oh, it was only a pound anyway" and then end up going and paying more money for a decent one.
Such is the phycological bluff of the pound shop.
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