Krusty is recovering from a long day at the factory, and his recovery plan involves large quantities of strong cider and expensive ice-cream. Yes, he's not sharing the ice-cream, but you didn't come round and let me lick it off your.....
Krusty is a little distressed to have spent so much time toiling today, as it has involved missing a moment of triumph; my e-mail to BBC Radio 4's 'PM' programme about a twat they interviewed earlier this week was read out in full. Hurrah, that means I must represent a point of view that is not unique to me. Those of you who come here regularly (who?) will know that I treasure the Beeb, and do not like those who threaten or abuse it. And less still those who waste its, and mine, time by talking bollocks. Particularly on serious news and kurrant affairs programming. Oh, and Alistair Campbell, if your reading a) you're really not welcome here, and b) if you or that bunch of fascists you used to work for damage the BBC you will go to a place in Hell that is beyond conception, for it is so special to have an independent public broadcaster with the freedoms and remit of the BBC that for you fuckers to damage it with your petty vindictiveness - just 'cause it caught you out for the liars you are - will be unforgiveable. Burn and freeze and burn for all of infinite eternity, viral scum.
Do you think I sometimes lose a sense of proportion? Petit moi?
Krusty is also grooving (or Liz, do you think I might get away with groofing? As oaves is to oaf so grooves is to groof, no?) some choons and the H-richness of the mix is much to my taste. My rediscovery of the Capt. and his associates since we re-acquainted ourselves with one another at the Solstice has really taken me aback, but I'd simply forgotten how much pleasure they once gave me, and it really has been a delight to welcome them back into the ear-holes and realm of Krusty. I guess familiarity breeds contempt, and about two years ago I'd really just over done it, an excess bordering on obsessiveness had excluded virtually all my other favourites, and it led to me barring them. Like a moment of doubt; can they really be that good, no, just give it up. So I made the effort in December to go and catch them at the Astoria, having not seen them for a couple of years, I didn't bother to listen to any thing up front - actually, tell a lie, I listened to the new album once - and it was just great to see old friends in the crowd, have a chat, enthuse; whilst I think about it, does anyone know what has become of Del-Boy, I haven't seen him at a HW show for a long time - and it was time to dig out the records and give it all another go,and yes, all the time lost treasures are being turned over by the auto-mind, which bring out the toothiest of grins from your friend the Baker, followed quickly by the need to a) sing along (shitter for anyone sharing the office at the time!), and b) get up and dance. That's a sort of movement thing which is in time to the music and rhythm, and is otherwise completely free-form i.e. my legs, arms, head, hands, feet all whirl about in irregular patterns until they either wind up in a knot or I fall over. And it is an ace thing to do.
Right, gotta go, love you all.