Brand Beckham’s not class... it’s just sickeningly crass
Don’t let Natasha death be in vain
How many more children must die due to food companies’ inability to get on top of proper labelling?
Listening to the parents of 15-year-old Natasha Ednan-Laperouse, who died after a fatal reaction to sesame seeds in a baguette, was heartbreaking.
Natasha had first had an allergic reaction to a banana when she was just months old. From that day on her mum and dad were vigilant about everything she ate.
Yet their vigilance was not matched – and was even undermined – by a company which makes millions of pounds every year by flogging sandwiches.
Pret had received previous complaints from other customers about sesame in their products but STILL failed to warn shoppers.
The law has shown itself utterly incapable time and again to protect us customers from food manufacturers and stores which over the years have flogged us horse meat, lamb that’s actually pig, floor scrapings, sugar-laden drinks, additiveladen foods, caffeine-filled products or those laced with hidden allergens.
You name it, there’s someone out there who’ll flog it to us if they think they can get away with it and make a few quid in the process.
I’d like to hope Natasha’s death might be a line in the sand in food labelling and food standards.
My fear is it will become just another tragedy which gets forgotten in the sands of time.
OH David… where did it all go wrong?
When did you disappear so far up your own exhaust pipe that you thought launching a top of the range luxury car days after wheedling your way out of a speeding charge was decent behaviour? When did you begin believing your superiority meant you could post a sickeningly smug selfie grumbling about London traffic on the day your case appeared before court? And when did you start thinking your 51 million followers on Instagram would be entertained that very evening by snaps of you celebrating pulling a fast one on British justice with a £1,300 UP HIS OWN EXHAUST PIPE Becks bottle of wine? Because whenever it was – the time has certainly arrived when the British public are sick, sore and sorry of you and your publicity junkie family.
Some say the rot set into David’s ego the moment he posed in those ludicrous thrones at his OK! themed wedding to Victoria.
Perhaps it even predates that, to the dreadful matching leathers look. Only a monstrous ego would enable anyone to leave the house looking like that.
Let alone let their partner leave the house in the same outfit.
More recently there has been David’s penchant for spending his leisure time huntin’ and fishin’ dressed up like the Lord of the Manor in £500 wellies (all of it constantly chronicled on social media.)
Just who does this boy from Leytonstone in East London think he is? And I don’t say that because there’s anything wrong with coming from Leytonstone. There’s everything right
with coming from Leytonstone. But everything wrong with pretending that you don’t.
And by hiding the reality of your life under layers of flash clothes and flashier mates you become the kind of person we Brits instinctively distrust.
Some say the warning bells were there in David’s behaviour as far back as that petulant World Cup kick two decades ago.
Certainly by last year the warning bells had become klaxons when emails between him and a publicist were leaked in which he raged about deserving a knighthood from the Queen’s honours committee.
‘Unless it’s a knighthood, f*** off,’ he wrote.
Even Beckham’s speeding lawyer Nick ‘Mr Loophole’ Freeman admits ‘from a moral standpoint’ Beckham was in the wrong and only escaped on a technicality when he’d been doing 59mph in a 40mph zone.
Try explaining technicalities like that to the 20,000 people injured by speeding drivers on our roads every year.
Yet still yesterday Beckham was launched as the face of a Vietnamese car firm where, in return for £1million, he repeated the word ‘incredible’ a few times.
Now we can only pity that poor Vietnamese car maker which shelled out a load of dong just as Brand Beckham finally revealed itself to be not class, but crass.
‘Public
are finally fed up with you and your publicity junkie family