We’ve a lot to get through tonight, but first of all a message from one of our sponsors, Han’s Chinese Laundry & Takeaway of 27-31 Lidl Villas Uckfield:
We’re going to hang out the washing on the egg fried rice
Have you any sweet & sour Imelda dear?
I’ve moved further into direct action territory when it comes to overriding the complex. I recently bought some hugely efficient oil-filled electric radiators, but the programming manual is beyond belief – as in, would you believe the radiators have an alarm system to tell you when you’ve left a window open. So there you are – in the middle of a winter so cold you have to use electric radiators – and you gaily walk about the bloody house opening windows in a wanton manner…thus requiring you, as a brainless dingbat, to be told you’ve done it.
So I have purchased from the local DIY shed 3 mechanical timers into each of which I have plugged the apparatus and hey presto, they come on and off without any stupid messages on the readout saying ‘A serious fault has occurred’ or something equally f**kwitted…because they aren’t electronic and they weren’t made in China.
Each morning at 7.30 am, the rads come on for an hour. Oddly, as I walk about the small converted grange, no windows are open. Iddislike todallyfeckinweird.
And before moving on, another quick commercial from our sponsor HSBC:
We’re going to hang out the banknotes on the Cameron line
Have you any dirty money Baron Green?
The creation of a Slog hairstyle involving length but no ponytail continues. Quite a bit of amateur hacking has been involved, but things are gradually moving in the right direction. Immediately after being washed, the tonsorial parallel is Donald Trump, which later settles down into Oscar Wilde. The next day – with a little water and judicious use of the brush – I am become the rakish Reginald Grytpipe-Thynne, theatre producer and part-time society Spiv.
The idea in the end is to blend eccentric Einstein with Bill Nighy, and become the thinking woman’s beefcake. But then, great humour emerges from the difference between human aspiration and human achievement.
Actually, what I’d really like to do is not just copy George Martin’s hairstyle, but have made a similar contribution to giving pop a gentlemanly dash of lasting value.
And finally, in the light (some would say darkness) of Signor Draghi’s speech today, I should like to offer an apology for the lack of anthropology in the archaeology of financial escapology evidenced by the criminology of superficial dermatology of futurology offered up by the woeful ideology of Mariology. The apology required could run to an anthology of sociopathology, but is perhaps best summarised by this snippet of musicology:
We’re going to hang Wolfie Schäuble from the Siegfried Line
Have you any soft tomatoes Mother dear?