Beige

When was it decided that everything should be beige? or magenta? or any of those colours that are the equivalent of retiring and watching those Michael Parkinson adverts while slowly shrivelling up until you look like a giant walnut with slippers on. They should have colour charts that describe these colours more accurately. So instead of Barley; Death By Deal Or No Deal. No more Harvest Moon. Replace it with Hell On Tea. Get rid of Autumn Sunset, lets call it Midsummer Murdered. When approached by the sales guy in the carpet shop I was in last week, after being asked ‘if I was looking for anything particular’… ‘yes I was looking for a Tuba but you don’t seem to have any in stock IN A CARPET SHOP’. He proceeded to take me through the seven stages of beige, each one being more dusty and boring than the one before. All the while I am being slowly brainwashed by inhaling the evil carpet dust and having the sudden urge to buy the daily mail and eat a nice bit of sponge cake when I get home. No! I refuse to comply to the beige army. I want carpets made from the same material as Joseph’s Technicolour Dreamcoat but fluffier. I want carpets that are the result of a loom being connected to Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland played at full volume. I want my stairs to look like a waterfall from a Salvador dali painting so that everytime I walk up and downstairs I feel like I am in the Yellow Submarine. What I don’t want is BEIGE.