For links to blogs I like, please go to my other, more popular blog, Contains Mild Peril (link above). Changing two lots of links is too much like hard work.
Mark, I had a dream about you last night. You were the maitre d' of a restaurant in North London which was owned by your girlfriend. You would alternate asking the customers if they were all right, with sitting down and singing a song in a deep voice, accompanying yourself on acoustic guitar. Me and Betty didn't let on who we were. The food was good and you had a guest singer, a young woman with a brilliant soulful voice. We got speaking to her and she said she was playing at Gaz's Rockin' Blues next week. I said I knew of that night, it'd been going for about 50 years.
We all adjourned to your pub over the road which was decorated in the style of a Wild West Bar. You were singing there, too. But this time standing up.
We had to leave to get the last tube before we could order a drink.
8 Comments:
Hover your cursor over my picture.
I have something to say to you.
i hope you told jamie oliver to fuck right off. pasty-faced, fat-tongued, shit-haired mockney wanker.
Is that pasty as in folded pastry case filled with meat and vegetables?
well he's a complete fucking vegetable, if that counts?
He's from round here, actually. Nowhere near the East End.
Rick Stein would never order people about like that.
Mark, I had a dream about you last night. You were the maitre d' of a restaurant in North London which was owned by your girlfriend. You would alternate asking the customers if they were all right, with sitting down and singing a song in a deep voice, accompanying yourself on acoustic guitar. Me and Betty didn't let on who we were. The food was good and you had a guest singer, a young woman with a brilliant soulful voice. We got speaking to her and she said she was playing at Gaz's Rockin' Blues next week. I said I knew of that night, it'd been going for about 50 years.
We all adjourned to your pub over the road which was decorated in the style of a Wild West Bar. You were singing there, too. But this time standing up.
We had to leave to get the last tube before we could order a drink.
And this dream is only a COMMENT?
I could make it a proper post if you want. But I'd have to nick your photo. Or find a lookalike.
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