Καλό μήνα!

~ all a tizzy ~

Goodness me, yes.

Tizzy, gobsmacked, topsy-turvy ... you name it.

There was I psyching myself into my own dementia frater phuck mood in prep for my bro's imminent arrival from Villa Thefti when what thumps onto the Καλώς Ορίσατε mat but a bouquet from my favourite adorèd commentatrice.

Doncha hate that? You've gone into default grump gear, fired off some abrasive mails, locked the gates and loosed the hounds with permission to do their junkyard thang ... and along comes a heart-melter.

Suddenly it's less fun sticking pins in my Diellàs voodoo 'Wop Thiever Gardenry' doll and i'm forced to go to the slush pile of miscellany.

Yes, don't I look cheerful up there on the Fender?

Got back from the church Summer Fayre in a right old sulk: practised all week but apparently not in cruel enough acoustics. When I got there, blazing heat and I sounded awful to myself, which sent me into a panic and i ditched half my repertoire because i knew it wouldnt come off.

"Went down to the Summer Fayre,
Songs to pull the birds
Down to the Mavili kirk
Songs to seduce them birds
Breasted up to the microphone,
Couldna hear a fronking word."

Mercy, merceh ....

Called up Xandra when I got home and listened to her excuse that she didnt come because she didnt want to be gooseberry wot wiv the babes clawing at my undergarments and writing their phone numbers on my tenderest places.

I told her of the désastre fou and she came round and told me to play the songs I'd dumped and I felt better. Particularly when she went into groupie mode and started scrawling her email address on my Y-fronts.

~ God this is funny.

Totally incorrect and offensive and indefensible and ...

[OK OK, you've established your PC credentials ... now get on with the tripe I pay you for ~ Ed]

I bet they took bets on who could skate the thinnest ice and this won hands down.

I just howled with laughter.

That'll teach him to sport such a ludicrous coiffure.

Hair today, goon tomorrow, you ask me.

But did you see him in the big game? Untouchable. It's all that swinging thru the jungle does it. We whiteys just dont get the practice in the Project. Bet he gets paid more beads than i'll ever jingle in a life-time.

PRODUCT PLACEMENT ~ As I type, I'm listening the great Raul Scaachi's latest creation - BEYOND necromantics ~ In Aenigmata.

Stunning. Raul writes symphonies and no, I'm not ready to deliver my magisterial review because I need to listen to any of his works at least 5 times before an inkling of the genius even starts to sink thru.

He was horrid as he passed the album over, that wolfish grin as he pointed out that Aeniggers boasted the two chanteuses i swoon most over - Kaliroe Raouzou and (be still my throbbing capo) ... Corina Hamilton. No more need be said.

LÈSE-MAJESTÉ ~ Check this out for Chink cheek. How dare they? Her gracious Majesty doesnt look or sound a bit like that and Catherine is all wrong and ... to the Tower, I say. Before they do a Big Ben-Queen's-Tower-Tiananmen-Tower numero on it.

Pater Prang ~ Idiot. Waste of a hot car.

But the report says nowt about the pre-sale training he should have been given before permitted to drive the Lambo away.

These bufones may have the moolah to actually buy the beauty but you can bet they havent a clue how to drive them.

No sympathy.

Proud pater gives lucky son a dream car and first thing it's "One side, lad, let me show you how it's done."

Zoom va-room, eek screech, crash bang wallop, crunch slump gazump.

Boot Hill and I'm not talking 'trunk'.

Sorry. RIP and all but ... sheepish dad arrives at the Pearlie Pit-stop and it's like

'Sheeyit, that one of those treble-carbed chariots, white-walled hosses - sorry, centaurs - wall-2-walls stereo of seraphim eternally crooning? Can't wait. Was almost worth totalling the Lambo.'

St Peter: "I'll take reins on this one, if you don't mind."

~ Andrea Valeri ~ listen to this accomplished rendering of Dire Straits' Sultans of Swing. I had no idea it could be arranged this way.

Jealous as hell and I've downloaded the tab to get it under my belt sans delai.

~ NUL POINT excuse whatsoever to include this tantalising snap of Xandra chez moi in pool play.

"Of all the photos, you prefer one of me not showing face?"

"Babe, it's a guy thing."