Potatoes. He was so sick of eat potatoes; mashed, baked, steamed, roasted, jacket, it didn't matter what topping or how much butter he slathered on, enough was enough. Not that there was any money for toppings or butter. Yesterday he'd gone to the shop at closing time and lurked just out of sight while the already reduced items were being further reduced. Once again, he was able to score a large bag of King Edwards for 29p. Excellent, he could make that last at least three days, maybe more if was able to get some free stuff out of the bin after they closed. He called himself a Freegan. Well sort of. He saw a documentary on once and these people lived soley on the stuff that was discarded by big supermarket chains. These people, Freegans, didn't like waste. That's not why Tom did it though. He did it because he had to, because he couldn't afford anything else and he'd had to live on reduced items since he lost his job. This week the only reduced item was potatoes.
Potatoes. Enough with the potatoes.