Say my name, say my name Wear it out, it’s getting hot, crack a window, air it out, I can get you through a mighty long day Soon as I go the text you gon write is gon say….

And then Rihanna comes in with Ooh na na, what’s my name; Ooh na na, what’s my name; Ooh…….Rihanna? In the week when the White Stripes split I’m playing Rihanna? Naomi Campbell, you have so much to answer for! And you’ve cost me £7.99. So before I get to the usual run-of-the-mill rubbish let me explain.

In the early days of the blog, top pop pickers such as Emma J, Missie K, Heather C and the Vampire Slayer all suggested music and I’d check the actual lyric with a site called Sing365 which allows me to bypass copyright laws (it says here officer) if it’s for educational purposes (*cough*) and as long as I buy the album by the artist. So thus it was, dear listeners, that late one night this week, when all the illegal scanners in the neighbourhood were in their beds, that I contacted iTunes (sorry rrm but it wasn’t the first time; it’s getting to be a habit and I needed a quick fix) and downloaded Loud by Rihanna. There’s a track called S & M. No. No comment.

And all because the lady has a new mobile phone with new number. 😀

And last week’s minionism rant rang a bell but not with minionists, people who fail to show respect to others because of their ‘exalted’ position. Have you ever done that? Have I ever done that?

Probably, but the untrained journalist in me has always told me the importance of individuals – not just that they have a story to tell but that they can be so very very helpful. The only reason I know that, to get to Bellshill I need to drive through a No Entry, is testament to what you get when you ask nicely and don’t demand.

But there again I’ve never had a position of power. Sure I was an Acting Senior Producer at the BBC planxty of times but was never confirmed and I was an Acting Beaver Leader (183rd Bearsden) for a while but I never did get my warrant, my seal of approval. Now this might be due to the fact that when the Warrant Committee people came to interview me, I somehow locked them in the Car Park although I had no key for the Car Park. Now I thought this showed great inventiveness/stupidity on my part but maybe I was never destined for great things.

Or maybe it was my answer to the question; ‘What do you see yourself doing in five years time, jt?’  ‘Writing blogs about Vampire Slayers and invisible kangaroos.’ ‘Next!’

(And to think my riposte to Rihanna was the Glitter Band even without Gary……….Skippy, what are you putting in my sandwiches?)

But I would like to make a public apology to the Parfery Person, whose knowledge of music I recently doubted. Sorry. It should also be stressed that without you I would never have seen Alabama 3, the Infadels and Red Light Company live at Loch Lomond a couple of years back.  I would like to invite you to lunch to make up. You say when; I’ll combine the words ‘somewhere cheap’ and ‘Ashton Lane’ in the answer.

Actually, asking certain questions publicly might just be the way ahead…………….. 😛

Also a Well Done to Jayne, who’s about to start work as a Script Editor on River City, but just as smashingly, for managing to reverse into a parking space (or two) at a funeral we both attended. (God, I hope the Good Luck card arrives before she reads that or my shins will suffer)

Actually, Jayne, on a serious note if you ever need someone to advise on being an alkoholic, please ask. Loadsa reasons. I once saw Phil Mitchell pretend to be one yet he was drinking out of a bottle by holding it by the neck. Schoolboy error. You can’t control the flow as well as when you hold it at the base. You might spill some.

And it was a week when someone asked for a copy of a short film script I wrote some time back. So I sent it to him. I did ask him why. But he’s not replied.

And Son Brian, you’re right, should I ever return, hypothetically, (an interesting word in my recent life) to academia, I am worried about having to write essays instead of editing them, but there’s a lot of amazing academics out there who, I’m sure would be happy to help. 

Including the gorgeous Miss W, and thanks – those six words painted an interesting picture, W. Which kept me awake all night. Tossing. And turning. Mine’s kinda pale blue but in a discontinued sense. (Skippy, it’s not Marmite is it? You know I’m Pescatarian.) 

And apparently I’ve agreed to give away 48 (forty-eight) copies of The Spy Who Came in from the Cold on World Book Night. Wonder where I’m supposed to do it (maybe I said the ASDA) and what if the weather continues as it is. Windy. (I’ve just corpsed. Sorry. I’m on the floor. With kyebaord. I’ve got hysterics.)

Horses! He croaked. Orally. (Y’know, I do not have a clue what I’m talking about. Has anyone ever noticed?)

Or am I the only one for whom certain words produce weird reactions or make me walk backwards 😉

And finally, I’d like to thank my friend Craig for introducing me to a new piece of football terminology. Y’see I thought he was shouting Chauffeur Him, when he was shouting Show For Him, calling on the player to expose himself to other players, so that’s okay then. (Skippy, that thimbleful of thick green liquid….what was it?)

Cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? Well, yes, but not to the funeral (and only Jayne knows the line that’s just been deleted cos she’s a damn fine and excellent editor and a damn fine and excellent chauffeur…)

Johnt850, ‘a nice guy, but never lost the weird’. But almost toastally lost it towards the end there, didn’t I? Jeez.

And there are two people, both important to me, who begin cancer treatments this week (different cancers) and the message to them is;

Serioulsy. Keep It Fun. No. No reason.

This piece of music has absolutely no relephants, so everyone join in

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