Letter to Walkers Crisps – battered by a crisp-daft Frenchman

From: Mark Jorgensen
To: consumer@walkers.co.uk
Subject: Walkers Crinkles

Dear Walkers,

Firstly I’d like to offer my congratulations on your longstanding excellence in the crisp game. Your salt and vinegar flavour has been my crisp of choice for as long as I can remember. They have added a sumptuous sandwich-enhancing crunch to many a lunchtime throughout the years.

However, I would like to raise an issue of immense concern. I’m not talking about the continued use of jug-eared smug merchant Linekar in your condescending television adverts (that meerkat makes Gary look like fucking Shaft so you’re excused by proxy), nor am I talking about the ‘zany’ Cajun squirrel farrago.

My issue concerns the attached photograph of a packet of your recent ‘crinkles’ range.

The keen-eyed amongst you may be able to just about make out the tiny island of crinkled crisps bashfully nestled amongst a vast expanse of foil wrapper.

I have long been interested in some of the more colourful collective nouns for various things, notably a romp of otters, a business of ferrets, a glob of Austrians, a git of bishops or a funk of vegans. This is, however, what I can only describe as a fuck you of crisps.

Please excuse my rather coarse language but that is earnestly the impression I got from this purchase. An insult. I’m a passionate man particularly when it comes to crisps. I remember once a French exchange student tried to tell me the puerile Pom Bear is a vastly superior crisp to Walkers. I defended your honour with what I can only describe as a devastatingly executed ‘bitchslap’. I’m not proud of my actions, my mother was furious and being about 4 years older than me, the crisp-daft Frenchman gave me a beating of unforgettable magnitude. But on principle, I stand by my convictions.

Despite my foolhardy defense of our fine British crispmaking heritage, the night I received the above it felt like the vast Walkers Corporation were some ghoulish Fagan-like character, flinging a thimble full of gruel in my general direction for having the audacity to pay 70p for a beloved snack. (Before retiring to his private chambers with a gaggle of impressionably young cockney pickpockets).

Thankfully, this was in a bar where my motive for the crisps was simply to mop up alcohol, but next time I may not be so lucky. If this was a lunchtime treat, I very much doubt whether this meagre amount of crisps would have been sufficient to fill even the most conservatively sized sandwich.

This isn’t to detract from their quality -the crisps themselves were delicious. The crinkled crisp has often been a huge favourite of mine due to the explosive pockets of flavour encased within the grooves of each crisp. McCoys have typically dominated this market since the demise of the once-loved Frisp, but yours are up there.

Quality is usually better than quantity in most walks of life but in crisps, a carefully observed balance is pivotal.

Take Discos for example. Their salt and vinegar range are delicious, but they might as well just put a small photograph of one crisp lazily dusted with flavouring. (Don’t even get me started on their so-called larger ‘Grab Bags’).

Again, it is with great regret that I contact you in this manner, as I am a staunch advocate of your brand, but I feel I must vent my crispy disgust at this atrocity.

I would therefore like to request the following –

–       An explanation of the quality control policies of your crinkle range.

–       Remuneration of the 70p I paid for the crisps.

–       A personalised apology from one of your brand ambassadors. i.e. Linekar, Lionel Ritchie or, preferably, a signed photograph of Charlotte Church nakedly frolicking in a bath of crisps like a sexy Scrooge     McDuck.

Thanks in advance and I look forward to hearing from you.

Mark Jorgensen

From: thurmaston.consumer@pepsico.com
To: mark.jorgensen@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: Your Unique Reference Number is – 000471190A:Your Contact About Walkers Crinkles

Dear Mark

Thank you for your recent emails regarding your purchase of Walkers Crinkles. I am really sorry that it has taken so long for us to get back to you.

It’s really disappointing for us to learn that your Crinkles packet contained few crisps – all of our packets are filled to weight, and hence this packet should have topped 32g.

Sadly, without the pack coding, it is very difficult to fully investigate the nature of this complaint but we do appreciate that your purchase was not of the quality you’d expect from us. We have therefore, noted your feedback on this particular pack for our Plant Teams to review as part of their ongoing quality evaluations.

I do hope that you have no further concerns with any of our products, however, should this not be the case, we would appreciate your help in sending the unsatisfactory product back to us at the following Freepost address or please do not hesitate to call us on our freephone number 0800 274777.


In the meantime, if you would like to let me have your full postal address I will be more than happy to send you out some Walkers vouchers, with my compliments (unfortunately the photograph of the lovely Charlotte Church isn’t so easy for me to arrange)

I look forward to hearing from you


Customer Services

From: Mark Jorgensen
To: consumer@walkers.co.uk
Subject: Your Unique Reference Number is – 000471190A:Your Contact About Walkers Crinkles

Hi Sue,
Thank you for the email and I accept your sincere apologies for the delay. I apologise for sending a secondary email, I can be a little impatient at times and I am trying to make sure I address this. But as my brother once said as a child impishly awaiting Christmas morning “if I’m patient I can’t have it NOW”.

I’m pleased that you will take on my feedback, I would be loathed to think that collectively we couldn’t use this tragedy which has befallen me to ensure that no one else will suffer a palty crisp fiasco in the future. If your Plant Team do require any feedback/input regarding the quality procedures then I would be happy to offer this on a consultancy basis in exchange for either Charlotte Church, or a nominal fee of a pre-agreed quantity of crisps. Let me know anyway.

Thank you for your very kind offer of some vouchers (and your compliments, naturally), my address is –

Flat 3



Is there any room for negotiation on the Charlotte Church thing? I could contact her and request the picture and say that you said it was ok?

Crispy wishes,

Mark Jorgensen

From: thurmaston.consumer@pepsico.com
To: mark.jorgensen@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: Your Unique Reference Number is – 000471190A:Your Contact About Walkers Crinkles

Dear Mark

Thank you for your recent email reply and for providing me with your address details.

I will be popping some Walkers vouchers into the post for you this evening – the amount of these will lend themselves more to be spent in a supermarket (maybe for a few multipacks of Crinkles?)

Spend them as you see fit and enjoy 🙂



Customer Services

P.s Incidentally the dictionary definition of impatience reads ‘intolerance of anything that thwarts, delays, or hinders’ – so not always a bad trait.

And still no luck with Charlotte.

Manchester City Council – Oversight of the Twelfth Night

From: mark.jorgensen@hotmail.co.uk
To: contact@manchester.gov.uk
Subject: A concerned citizen

Dear Manchester City Council,

I hope you’re all doing well at the council and may I take the time to wish you all a (belated) happy new year. I think all in all 2011 was a testing year not just yourselves but for the public sector in general so I’m sure you’re not too sad to see the back of it.

Unfortunately I have noticed a glaring oversight which I think could be the catalyst to a less than auspicious start to 2012; you have left the Christmas decorations up all over the city. Beyond the 6th of January!!!! Are you MAD? At the time of writing it is the 16th January and they are still there. 10 DAYS!!!

I was wandering around the city the other day and I couldn’t help but notice that on every lamp post the Christmas decorations still hang lonely and unilluminated, like drunken ‘trophy steals’ from a garden centre displayed proudly around a student flat. I am staggered that you would jeopardise the fortune, and consequently the safety, of the patrons of this city.

I’m not exactly a superstitious person. I do have a couple of quirks that I will only ever walk down-wind and habitually recite the nine times table aloud during coitus (but that’s more of a rhythm thing really). However, it’s well documented – far beyond preposterous pagan hokem – that failure to remove Christmas decorations on the 6th January (The Twelfth night) can yield catastrophic bad luck. Bad luck you have now seemingly consigned the whole city to.

I think even an idle glance at the facts would suggest so…

– The Howling Hilton. If that is not a harbinger of impending doom of some sort then I don’t know what is.

–  The complete lack of snow. An offshoot of global warming, normal weather cycles or something altogether more sinister? The latter, I would assume.

–  Look at the news….stabbing this, storms that, financial meltdown the other…coincidence?

– The ghost of Paul Scholes brazenly haunting Old Trafford.

–   I tripped on a curb and hit my head on the rear flank of a Ford Mondeo on Monday.

…what next?

I would like to know the council’s official stance on this matter. I think at the very least there should be a public apology and immediate withdrawal of all decorations before we all end up going feral and smashing each other’s craniums apart with sticks and dog bones.

Yours concerned,

Mark Jorgensen

To: mark.jorgensen@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: Fw: A concerned citizen
From: contact@manchester.gov.uk

Thank you for your email and your enquiry regarding the festive lighting.

Following Christmas, we aim to have all the decorations switched off by 6th
January, and then the contractors start to remove them following that date.
Given the geographic extent of the scheme and the requirement to minimise
disruption to existing city centre operations – this process normally takes
between 7 and 10 days – and has never been achieved in a single night, so
I’m confident that we are not invoking bad luck upon the city despite the
worrying omens that you cite.

They are taken down from the core area – Albert Square – and outwards. The
periods of high winds in the past weeks hasn’t helped this process this
year, as the equipment used to take down the decorations cannot be operated
in these conditions and it has put the contractors back, however all
decorations should be removed by the end of this week.

I hope this helps with your enquiry.

Kind regards.

> Karen Connell
> Events Unit
> Chief Executive’s Dept
> Manchester City Council
> Desk 012, 5th Floor, Number One First Street
> Manchester
> M15 4FN (for satellite navigation use M1 5DE)
> Please note postal address remains:
> PO Box 532, Town Hall, Manchester, M60 2LA
> for directions to First Street go to:
> http://www.manchester.gov.uk/firststreet

> email: k.connell@manchester.gov.uk
> website address: http://www.manchester.gov.uk

Complaint letter to Chuppa Chups

Dear Sir,

Before get to the main crux of my point, I was bemused when I recently discovered that the Chuppa Chups logo was designed by none other than Salvador Dali?!! I’ve never before thought to combine surrealist art with lollipops but I guess the renegade decision to impale what is ostensibly a boiled sweet on a stick is perhaps, in itself, comparative to Dali’s bizarre genius.

Saying which, Dali once said “No masterpiece was ever created by a lazy artist” and while I agree with him I’d argue that it’s a touch hypocritical considering the efforts he put into your logo design were half-arsed at best. No melting clocks, no conceptual imagery, just your name in a pretty rosette. He could have at least done some ghoulish giant head made out of lollipops, crying liquid pianos in some sort of dystopian desert landscape with the shadowy severed limbs of the recently deceased scattered around spelling Chuppa Chups in deranged font on a marzipan skyline. I’m not sure if that would be particularly ‘on brand’ but that’s the problem with Dali; no imagination.

If all you wanted was a rosette you could have got Neil Buchanan from Art Attack to do that and he could have made the image of an American footballer out of towels on your staff car park in the process. I’ll keep out of it though, that’s your call.

Until recently I actually wasn’t sure how socially acceptable it is for a grown man to eat lollipops. Perhaps I’m being dramatic or just a worrier but I thought it may be construed as childish, or even buying them may rouse suspicion that I may be sourcing them as bait for noncery.

On the other hand, the reward by far outweighs this undoubtedly irrational concern. The immensely enjoyable taste of the sweet itself aside, I often enjoy lollipops largely due to the fact that I can rattle the stick around in my teeth and practise a ‘thousand yard stare’ while pretending to be John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. I think they actually just used little sticks in cowboy times, but I’m confident that if they had the option of a fruity boiled sweet on the end of it they’d have snapped your hand off before saving your village from some nefarious Mexican banditos and romancing the village sweetheart in one fell swoop.

So far, so good. However..

Having suffered at the negligent hands of a defective sweet maker recently myself – who I will definitely not name as serial human rights offenders and caramel crooks Nestle – my friend Kelly confided in me about a grievous incident at the hands of you; Salvador Dali’s favourite lollipop merchants. I was distraught – is nothing sacred?

Kelly, like so many stressed and busy London professionals, had treated herself to an afternoon lollipop; no doubt on a similar train of thought to I where she was going to use the stick to pretend to be some sort of femme fatale from a western, but not before enjoying the sweet itself.

I’m sure you’ll agree you can divide the people in the world strictly down the middle into two camps based around how they would tackle a lollipop; suckers and crunchers.

Now, like me, Kelly is a cruncher and thankfully so in this instance as her impatience to gradually savour the lollipop in question allowed her to identify that it was hollow. Hollow!

I’m not sure whether this is the latest in your surrealist marketing agenda, using the sweet as some form of metaphor satirising a notion that the earth has become a hollow orb of wanton misery. But if it was then I would suggest it belongs in a gallery rather than on a stick and retailed to people looking for a lollipop to enjoy.

I know Kelly has been in touch with you and you have offered some form of lollipop-based olive branch for this grave injustice and I respect you for this, but I am suspicious that this may be simply an automated and arbitrary response as hollow as your lollipops. This is typified largely by the fact that you have referred to someone called Kelly as ‘sir’, suggesting this is just a template email churned out to anyone to suffer the same misfortune.

I think you’d agree that Dali would turn in his grave if he knew about all this, so I wanted to raise the alarm bells before this whole wretched affair could go any further.

I welcome your input/feedback on this.

Hollow regards

Mark Jorgensen

p.s. According to Wikipedia your company’s ‘current anti-smoking slogan is “Stop smoking, start sucking” with their packages parodying cigarette pack designs’

I appreciate the sentiment of trying to discourage smokers but I hardly think widespread fellatio is the answer to the problem. How about we also encourage rim jobs as an alternative to heroin abuse? Frankly, you’re a disgrace.