{yawn}....Cuzz...now I understand why she fell asleep in front of the TV...she must have been listening to her own song. What monotony...if I was an Idols judge, she wouldn't have made it past auditions :-)
(I can't believe I actually used a smiley there. Shame on me.)
The whole gig with The Womb is that it may not be great music but it _is_ music. It sends a message, whether well put or not, that we are all one. The song itself _is_ that "vision past the Status Quo" (Whose only good tune was "Pictures of matchstickmen and you" if you ask me.) It's what you see through the crack in the wall and all that.
I've decided to make this blog a bit more accessible to all you lovely people out there in webland.. Should you have any questions you'd like me to answer then feel free to drop me a line and I'll post the questions and answers on here for you all to enjoy.
Breasts. Tits. Hooters. Funbags. Chats. Boobs. Jigglies. Bazookas. Floppily doppilys. Ho-ho's. Call 'em what you will. Personally I'm in favour of the epithet Juggs. It's such a heartwarming word don't you think? And so it should be. It describes such heartwarming things. And not just heartwarming either, I for one know that they don't just warm my heart. But, let's not get into that. It wouldn't be a pretty picture to implant in your minds. There was a woman in the club tonight that had a pair of juggs so large it looked like she was smuggling 747 nosecones. The words that came out of my mouth when I saw her sitting were "Holy fuck, would you check out the puppies on her!" Seriously, these were huge. But not overly huge, they weren't Lolo Ferrari huge, 'cos that's just wrong no matter how you paint it. These were all natural, god made pillows of fun that caught my eye, not to mention other parts of my anatomy, and I couldn't ta...
So, there I was sitting at my desk watching A Clockwork Orange on DVD when the phone rang. In my usual style I picked it up and said the first thing that popped into my head. "Bonjour, l'hotel grand." I said, in my best French accent. (Which to be honest sounds a bit like Peter Sellars as Inspector Clouseau.) "Hello, can I speak to Ross Douglas." The voice on the other end of the phone said. "Speaking." I said, somewhat warily as I'm still wanted by the police in london. "This is ***** at the ******** ****** hotel. I've just received your application for the position of barman and I was wondering if you could come in for a little chat." The voice continued. "Sure, when would be the best time?" I said. "How about Thursday? Is that Ok with you?" The voice continued. "Thursday's fine with me. What time?" I asked. "How about 5pm?" Said the voice. "Sure, I'll be there." I said and p...
Comments
(I can't believe I actually used a smiley there. Shame on me.)
The whole gig with The Womb is that it may not be great music but it _is_ music. It sends a message, whether well put or not, that we are all one. The song itself _is_ that "vision past the Status Quo" (Whose only good tune was "Pictures of matchstickmen and you" if you ask me.) It's what you see through the crack in the wall and all that.
Ho ho.
I knew you'd like them.