Friday, June 02, 2006

It's The Best Thing, But What Is It?

Here's a question for you. What is this stuff? Are you sure about that? Think hard now...ok, so you're sure you know what it is, and what to call it. Good. Now, think again, and consider what this is, and how we can tell them apart;

Ok? Got that? Took a long time that, didn't it? Well, such is my exciting world, I've just spent eight, yes eight, hours considering exactly that. And then another hour and a half parked on the M3 waiting to come home. Still, beats touring the KwikSaves of Anglesey.

Talking of touring, whilst exploring the interweb for means of delivering to you the sound of Chris Hawkins reading out the words of your least favourite Baker, I did come across some rather amusing material which is worth sharing;

For the Tonsorially Challenged

For when you've had a day like I've just had

Because it's unnecessarily entertaining

Because we are unable to find a solution to the sound problem, 'though thanks to Cherry Pie and Tom for suggested routes to market (aaaargh, call the Jargonauts), I herein publish the text in question.

Some context; Mr. Hawkins, on his early morning radio show on BBC6 Music (big audience then) has invited suggestions for suitable arrangements to accompany the clock to the 6th minute past the 6th hour of the 6th day of the 6th month, '06, on 6. So, I offered the following; it shouldn't be a surprise to the loyal Krustians and Krustacea, and I don't anticipate that the more interesting bits will be the selection;


how about

'Number of the Beast' - Iron Maiden - a bit fierce for the early morning, but then you have woken me up with the Dead Kennedys before, so baps to anyone who gets upset at a bit of pompous NWOBHM of a morning.

Alternatively, for sheer fear and foreboding, how about the original 'Black Sabbath' by, er, Black Sabbath. Panic-struck horror as the apocalypse arrives over Birmingham. You could go for 'NIB' off that album too, is it me or did Ash rip that riff on their first album?

The Evil Elvis, Mr. Glenn Danzig, has 'Heart of the Devil' to offer off his dark opus 'Danzig III: How The Gods Kill' - ooh, scary...

For something that is so left field it merits a wider audience, try 'Solitaire Devil' from Mick Farren's Tijuana Bible 'Gringo Madness'. Reassuring in it's own little tequila-sodden way.

The Elvis Elvis gives us 'You're The Devil In Disguise'.

As it would be a 'revelation' to most people in this country, how about a little Grateful Dead, 'Friend Of The Devil'.

I think the late Mr. Presley might be in the running, but I ain't holding my breath.


Wendy said...

Were those peanuts singing about the joy of poo in Japanese?

Or did I just have an acid flashback?

Cherrypie said...

I thought it was going to be an incisive and cleverly constructed comment on some incredibly important topic. The sort of boring twaddle that I assume Radio 4specialises in ( I haven't listened to it as I am not yet into the 4th decade of my life).

I love that it was just a request from "Krusty in Cricklewood".

krusty the baker said...

Cricklewood? I should be so lucky! I have a recording of my moment on Radio 4 but that's in my real name - yes, Ma and Pa didn't really have me kristened as Krusty.

Requests? That implies expectation that they'll play it. Ah,ha ha ha ha. Yeah, sure.

I meant to mention elsewhere, the fresher the fruit the better. My counter doesn't tell me why people come here. I've no idea. Other than a shared dislike of Ben Elton.

krusty the baker said...

Wendy - I wasn't sure if it was Japanese. Are they peanuts? I'd figured they were cheery, friendly, cute little maggots. There is an element of the slack jaw about it, isn't there, pleased that it triggered a response, hope it wasn't too nauseous. (That is such a great word.)

Cherrypie said...

Unctuous is a better word. And I didn't really think you lived in Cricklewood. It just had a pleasing alliterative quality to it. x

Cherrypie said...

Be thankful I didn't opt for Crouch End

krusty the baker said...

Pack it in, you, or I'll start sending you pictures of a certain diminutive footballer. You've been warned.

Cherrypie said...

Sorry, Mr. Baker, Sir

( PS. The truth isn't worse than the fiction is it? Dear God, not Crawley. Or CROYDON!)

exits smiling