26 May 2013


Trouble with having taken out a sub for lanky Jim Potts' must-read Corfu Blues - the Beano of bloggeria - is that he mentions all the goodies and I'm sent 'rushing' to remember my faves.

Here's that other Jimmy, cruising for a bruising, after a little girl.

Speaking of little girls, or at least 'little' in age, boy have I had some groin searching, what with the recent outing of those poor bastards from the 60s/70s who rode the turntable of relentless onslaught by the groupie teeny-bonkers who all knew the back way in to BH.

I didnt get any, but as teaboy/messenger minion for a publishing house, I'd deliver review copies and if they were anything to do with music, I'd get to meet the music maestros who spun the tables and often wanted another six copies for their mates, hence their being nice to me.

It was Liberty Lay and none more carnivorous than the jailbait.

And now out of the woodwork are coming these drab drabs, suddenly 'remembering' they'd been fingered over by some randy 20-something DJ.

I don't know ... Savile's legacy ... the Filth are now scrambling to make up for all the years they turned a blind eye. Overkill.

I played my daughters Only Sixteen and they were shocked - shocked - not at Craig's hots for the chick but for singing en publique about it.

"Do the little things", indeed.  

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