Katona, Biggins, Donovan: becoming the face of Iceland is a golden goujon of opportunity.
Now sweeping down the aisles in his own frozen fantasy is Peter Andre, star of, er, Peter Andre: My Life, and a man in a constant state of wonderment at what he can pick up for just 89p. Frozen peas! Frozen crinkle-cut chips!
Frozen everything! But there’s just one problem for the trolley-pushing hunk of spunk: he keeps getting recognised by adoring fans. The message is clear: chicks dig Peter like Peter digs Iceland. You can see why. If he’s not displaying a freshly-sired child on his shoulders, he’s the kind of guy you’ll find DIY makeovering someone’s tear-stained bedroom. It’s illegal not to love this Andrex puppy of the recession era.Yet while the women come a-flocking (because, as Iceland has hammered home over the years, only females do the food shopping), Peter’s oblivious. Why? Because he’s so stunned by the bargains. So stunned, in fact, that he can only recite his lines in the manner of someone who’s contracted a dangerous case of ice-cream headache from a partially defrosted pavlova. “Excuse me, do you mind if I put this on Twitter?” asks an excited customer. “I already have,” Peter assures her, in a hilarious mix-up where he thinks she too is shocked by the cheap cheesecakes, rather than spotting Katie Price’s legendary ex-husband in Iceland. Later, the supermarket stunnah gets so excited he even wanders off with a shopper’s phone. Women, it could happen to you! And if that doesn’t cause Iceland to crumble under a stampede of ladies baying for a glimpse of Peter Andre’s prawn ring, what will?
Source: http://www.theguardian.com/