Take this for example, a box which is located in my local supermarket with the express purpose of persuading customers to purchase extra tins of cat and dog food for donation to the local Animal Rescue Centre:
I love tacky cat-related objects; luckily I don't own a great deal of it, which is great because I hate dusting and Duchess Towers is decorated by enough bad taste anyway. My favourite was an ornament you could buy from one of those catalogues which regularly fall out of The Radio Times: it was a pair of beautifully crafted poly resin cats which played 'You Are My Sunshine' when pressed. It was truly lovely and there's not a day which goes past when I don't miss it.
Finally, there's a pub I'm always walking past which I last ventured into during the 1990s where myself and a friend encountered a gentleman who professed to be a direct descendant of Clive of India. Anyway, they have regular karaoke nights and when my son wanders past he always says 'there's that place where you can drink and sing'. Cute really.