No.
...
Well, that's that, uh ... taken care of, dear reader(s). Yes! The last PR email of the week. And this is the last post of the week, I'm glad to say. I can't work in this heat, man! I looked out of the window a minute ago, and the streets were empty. It's like that Charlton Heston film, The Omega Man.
Okay, okay. Anything else?
Let's play some music!
Sunny Afternoon. The Kinks. / Why on earth did Ray Davies stop writing songs like this?! Did he just say to himself: The Sixties are over now ... ?
In the Summertime. Mungo Jerry. / Maybe the ultimate summer song. Awesome!
Summertime. Sam Cooke. / I ain't never ever heard a better version of this great standard.
The Warmth of the Sun. The Beach Boys. / Yeah, but were they expecting it to be this "warm"? Christ!
Here Comes the Sun. The Beatles. / It's already here, mate.
Who Loves the Sun. The Velvet Underground. / Er, not me, Lou. (And Doug, of course.)
Play in the Sunshine. Prince. / Ha! I'll sit this one out, Prince, if you don't mind. I'm knackered.
Hot Thing. Prince. / Whatever.
...
Okay, okay. That's enough music.
Anything else? Politics? Oh, okay, if you insist. Boris reckons it will be the EU's fault if we leave without a deal. Well, it won't be their fault. BUT(!) ... even if it were, so what? When we're starving and dressed in rags, will we comfort ourselves with the "fact" that it was the EU's fault? It doesn't make any sense, man. But I guess NOTHING makes sense now, does it? Just think: only three years ago we were living in a reasonably sensible country.
Anyway, have a nice weekend, kook(s) - if you can. Laters!
...
Well, that's that, uh ... taken care of, dear reader(s). Yes! The last PR email of the week. And this is the last post of the week, I'm glad to say. I can't work in this heat, man! I looked out of the window a minute ago, and the streets were empty. It's like that Charlton Heston film, The Omega Man.
Okay, okay. Anything else?
Let's play some music!
Sunny Afternoon. The Kinks. / Why on earth did Ray Davies stop writing songs like this?! Did he just say to himself: The Sixties are over now ... ?
In the Summertime. Mungo Jerry. / Maybe the ultimate summer song. Awesome!
Summertime. Sam Cooke. / I ain't never ever heard a better version of this great standard.
The Warmth of the Sun. The Beach Boys. / Yeah, but were they expecting it to be this "warm"? Christ!
Here Comes the Sun. The Beatles. / It's already here, mate.
Who Loves the Sun. The Velvet Underground. / Er, not me, Lou. (And Doug, of course.)
Play in the Sunshine. Prince. / Ha! I'll sit this one out, Prince, if you don't mind. I'm knackered.
Hot Thing. Prince. / Whatever.
...
Okay, okay. That's enough music.
Anything else? Politics? Oh, okay, if you insist. Boris reckons it will be the EU's fault if we leave without a deal. Well, it won't be their fault. BUT(!) ... even if it were, so what? When we're starving and dressed in rags, will we comfort ourselves with the "fact" that it was the EU's fault? It doesn't make any sense, man. But I guess NOTHING makes sense now, does it? Just think: only three years ago we were living in a reasonably sensible country.
Anyway, have a nice weekend, kook(s) - if you can. Laters!
