Saving Boobs, One Asparagus Bunch At A Time

I smelt something suss the other morning whilst in the supermarket fondling bundles of asparagus. Had I had a small child with me I might've done what my parents used to do whenever they smelt something fruity; look down the back of my shorts.

What they hoped to see there when they did I will never know because if you've ever tried it with your own children then you'll know the only thing you see down a kids pants is their bum and unless they've had a shart of catastrophic proportions that's all you're ever going to see. But yet, parents everywhere still look. What would they do I wonder, if they did see something - fish it out in the middle of the fruit and veg department? Tasty.

I did once shart myself silly whilst at primary school. I knew I was in trouble the moment I could feel it run down the back of my knee and it was quite the mission making it unnoticed to the boys toilets in the furthest, far flung corner of the school. It's very difficult to run from only the knees down and especially when you're trying to make it look like you haven't just monumentally soiled yourself. Once there, it was a sight the likes of which I hope I never see in my own daks ever again. Things were so bad I had to flush the ones I was wearing and thus, my first experience of going commando was had that very afternoon.

But back in the supermarket it wasn't the asparagus itself that smelt mind you (no, that happened when I had my first whizz the day after I ate it), but more the fact that it was held together with pink rubber bands. On closer inspection of the tag there was that ever present pink bloody ribbon heralding breast cancer awareness, which in itself is cool, but on asparagus?!

October is Breast Cancer Action Month in case you weren't aware which means everybody who is in support of the cause is wearing pink ribbons and buying pink stuff. I'm not wearing a ribbon which must mean I am for breast cancer, which I'm not, but it gets a bit intimidating not brandishing one especially when surrounded by the farkin things. Ribbons that is, not breasts. I don't mind being enclosed by those, especially on long road trips where it's like being wrapped in bubble wrap.

The whole Breast Cancer Awareness thing has to be the 'most supported by a corporate' cause in town. One check of the website confirms that the list of companies plastering their tat pink is a lengthy one, proving that every man and his dog is in on the cause, even the farmer and their asparagus it would seem. Which is great for the awareness, of course, because breast cancer is the most prevalent cancer amongst our women and the most likely to affect that special lady in your life. Grim stuff indeed.

But it is those same sad stats that makes it a 'sexy' cause to be seen supporting, as if an indiscriminate cancer can ever be described as such a thing. All those products with a splash of pink on them make the cause a lot of money but I'm betting they make the producers a whole lot more. It's a ploy that pulls at the heart strings because who doesn't want to save boobies (god knows I know I do), so consumers who so want to be seen doing the right thing will buy the overpriced option that promises 10 whole cents to the cause.

Quite how the marketing extends to garden veg I don't know. Admittedly I was buying the asparagus because it was a two for deal and only noticed the label at the checkout, where, thankfully, there were no children whose pants I could look down the back off. Would the marketing work so well if it was testicular cancer? No, because your average pair of testes are only half appealing as your average set of nungas. And what colour ribbon would you use for that anyway, purpley red?

For the record I did put some coin in the bucket of the lady collecting at the mall because Breast Cancer Action Awareness month is a worthy cause. She gave me a ribbon but I haven't gotten round to wearing it. If only they gave you a Polaroid of the boobs you just saved....