The last of the IQ points

A Prayer.

Our Father who art in Sainbury's,
hallowed be thy fish.
Thy fish come.
Thy will be done in
on earth as it is in some place inhabited with numpties.
Give us this day our daily bread (may contain bread),
and forgive us for our diminishing mind-tubes,
as we forgive those who make it harder for me to make a bowl of cereal in the morning (see yesterday's blip),
and lead us not into the daytime TV/Jeremy Kyle zone,
but deliver us from stuff and...like...things....you know.....like......eh....you know.........stuff. Ken wot a meen?

Amen.