So, George Ezra probably sensibly left the last part of his latest ‘hit’ off whilst singing it at the Jubbly blah. Anyway, if you fancy listening to George Ezra, why not just listen instead, to what must be his biggest influence: Fruit Salad, by The Wiggles. Listen until you can smell burning toast, and have a nosebleed. There. Yummy yummy indeed. Perfick.
At this rate, a month should cover it…
Probably a gameshow everyone will be playing soon…
What with inflation, and skyrocketing energy prices. Shame Uncle Putin’s getting all antsy which means no more cheap gas at the same time “coincidentally”. It’s almost like it’s planned. And frankly I didn’t get through the worst of the Cold War years, which left me with depression to this day, due to the daily expectation that I’d wake up to a mushroom cloud, just to do it all again now. Who do I have to hit repeatedly with a stout piece of wood to make this all good?
Same old shite. Throw the switch back to position A, tell everyone it’s all OK. Stop wearing a mask. Back to pointless commutes you oiks, even though it’s been proved most people never needed to anyway. Fuck off.
Maybe in keeping with the last two years of awfulness, someone could retrieve Roy Castle’s ashes, rehydrate them, and give the resultant soggy mess a trumpet to knock out a tune, like Record Breakers in years gone by….
Probably coming to a set of lungs near you… December 2021
Anyway, it’s my birthday soon, something Bethlehem, donkey.
Maybe if he had his pants on his head, and pencils up his nose, as per the approved Blackadder method? Even then …
‘Wubble’
spiffingwheeze 