A Letter To You, Jamie…You Utter Pillock.

Jamie Oliver, defender of the nations digestive tracts and champion of Filipo Berio (fairly certain he drizzles that shit on his fucking cornflakes) has suddenly waded-in, Tory-Boy style (and about a zillion years after the human race generally agreed that the whole concept was a pile of steaming horse-shit) on the matter of what people should generally be allowed to spend their money on. More specifically, what those who have very little money can be allowed to spend their money on.

I think Jamie needs a little lesson on how families cope with poverty…

Dear Mr Oliver,

Having read your opinions on ‘modern day poverty’, I just wanted to take the opportunity to say the following.

Firstly, you are a misinformed, big-mouthed, patronising twat who uses WAY too much olive oil and who needs a new PR that won’t let you talk to anyone ever again.

Now we have that out of the way…

Secondly, a few horrible bastards aside (and horrible bastards sit across the wealth spectrum) everyone wants their children to be happy and healthy. Families who are struggling financially take huge risks in order to have a few things in their homes that might make their lives feel less stressed, less stretched and more, well…normal. No parent wants to stand by while their children are singled out because their parents can’t afford what everyone else takes for granted.

That huge great shocker of a telly on the wall to which you referred, Mr Oliver, will over the lifetime of their repayments, probably cost DOUBLE if not TRIPLE it’s recommended retail price. If you don’t have the cash to buy what you need for your home then you have no choice but to buy on credit. And the worse your credit rating, the more it costs.

I’m willing to bet that, Mr Oliver, had you taken the time to ask the family you are so happy to slate how they pay for everything else you’d have dropped your fucking spatula in shock: catalogues, payday loans, goods tumbling off the backs of lorries, pawnbrokers… I’ll bet the delightful little Oliver children have never had their school shoes bought in instalments.

You cannot buy food on credit. This is why foodbanks, payday loans and free school meals exist.

You cannot buy time on credit. So when people work a crippling amount of hours on minimum wage in order to just about cover the rent (because some people can’t afford houses. I KNOW, RIGHT?) and petrol to be able to get to work in the first place, THEN have to stop off on the way home to the local foodbank, choices are not just limited, they are non-existent.

You use Spain as a comparison, saying that the Spanish eat well on little money. You stupid, stupid, CLUMSY man. Spain is suffering harder than most of the countries in Europe. Unemployment stands at a minimum of 26%, with some areas as high as 32%. There are queues outside supermarkets in the cities at closing time. People are trying to take home what they throw away. The Italian Office for Statistics recently reported that millions of Italians are living in the sort of poverty that would see your ‘Italian Street Cleaner’ unable to heat his home, let alone spend valuable time and energy whipping up a cheeky cozze piccanti alla marinara.

I know you’re cripplingly dyslexic, Mr Oliver, but you can well afford to employ someone to keep you up to date on world affairs. Do keep up.

You have been closeted in a world of comfort until you entered the kitchen. I’ve worked in hotels and restaurants and yes, it is shit-nasty long hours and hard work on meagre pay, but you didn’t have to do it for long, did you Mr Oliver. Good old Aunty Beeb picked you up at the tender age of 22. You never had to support your family on a chefs wage.

Perhaps it’s time you went back to where you started…I’m sure £6.19 an hour will be plenty for you. After all, you can head to the supermarket on your way home after a 13 hour shift and pick up the ingredients to feed your family of five for under three quid, right?



P.S. Don’t forget the mussels.



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