ITEM: Email subject headers continue to amuse me mightily.
Somehow I seem to have ended up on the mailing list for Farmers Weekly and related advertising material. Imagine my surprise then to find this in my Inbox:-
Lely completes its Hibiscus Central Delivery range of rakes
It’s almost as if somebody has informed them that I do gardening, which is bad for my image – I usually sneak out early on a Sunday morning to do a little hoeing before anyone else is up.
Even more contentious was an email from Zavvi advertising their special offer on gifts for Mother’s Day that had the subject line:-
MILF! Free Gift for Mum Worth £30!
Okay, in the body of the email they clarified that it stood for Mother I’d Like to Fuss Over, but all the same.
I suspect somebody is no longer in a job, or at least has been forcefully informed that there’s a time for innuendo and Mother’s Day is not it.
ITEM: The other week I was sitting on a bus and went to put on my glasses and one of the arms fell off.
I was disgusted as I’d barely had them a couple of years.
Poundland just don’t sell quality stuff nowadays like they used to.
ITEM: I was walking on Yarmouth beach when I observed what looked to be a dead shark lying on the sand.
A very small shark, admittedly, but all the same most definitely something sharklike, just like the very small sharks I’ve seen at the local Sea Life Centre.
In fact I wondered if it had dug a tunnel out of the Centre and failed at the last gasp in its attempt to get back to the sea and freedom.
ITEM: There’s a sign on the wall of the Marketplace toilets in Norwich – ‘Please leave these facilities in the same condition you would hope to find them’.
Really?
They’re expecting members of the general public to come in and clean/decorate the place?
ITEM: I was immensely amused when I read this report about a Tory MP getting handbagged, but slightly sceptical.
Sceptical in the sense that it’s hard to imagine a Tory attending an NHS hospital unless it was either a photo opportunity or to visit a loved one (e.g. his stockbroker).
I do however like the idea of kicking off the revolution with an elite cadre of OAP’s slapping politicians upside the head with their handbags.
All that’s missing from the equation is bricks.
Trumpetville 
Hmm. Perhaps they meant the other type of rake?
Possibly, and if so I’ll take either the Marquis de Sade or Johnny Depp as the Earl of Rochdale, mainly because they’re both so well read.
But do we have those sort of rakes nowadays? Is the term redundant in the age of the celeb?
Ah – you’re right. You should definitely contact them and ask just how rakish their rakes are.
I followed your advice and they tell me that their rakes are rakingly good rakes, with no mistakes.