Well, Deadbeat is two festivals into the summer now, and astonished at the huge amount of musical talent coming out of the UK and Ireland. Catch Martha Tilston and the Woods if you can. She is an enchanting performer, brilliantly supported.
Overheard at the sound desk during the Sunrise festival, in response to a daft question: 'Don't ask me, mate, - this is your coma, I'm just the dying flickers of your last remaining neurons."
I was chatting to Clive and Duncan recently, down at the old watering hole.
The conversation was unexceptional, of the 'Who do you fancy for the cup, your shot I think, cheers mine's a pint' variety (we like our small-talk very small, so that it doesn't interfere with the savour of Scruttocks Old Peculiar), when all of a sudden Clive muttered 'Oh so you're not only a stupid, ugly idiot who can't drive, you're foul-mouthed and aggressive as well, with all the charm and charisma of an unwashed dung-beetle. Congratulations, you are this month's Mister Unattractive.'
This, as you will appreciate, took me aback. It transpired that this was not, in fact, aimed at yours truly but was the perfect parting riposte to round off a contretemps which had occurred in the car-park of The Hypermarket just an hour or so previously. The problem was that Clive had only just thought of it. It is ever thus with the best put-downs and verbal parting shots. Always too late and, mostly, they go to waste. This seems a shame to me. So If you have recently been just too slow to get in your parting remark, email it to me (hit the contact deadbeat button below) and I will publish the best right here. Obviously I will have absolute dictatorial control, and reserve the right to ignore, edit or truncate at my whim. I won't publish anything obscene, offensive, racist or boring. I am looking for wit.
Thought for the month:
Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings.
My sister, when a young child, thought that God was called Harold. She told my mother that she knew this because she prayed to him every day:
'Our Father who art in Heaven, Harold be thy name.'
A couple of days ago I met a little boy who told me that a lot of people lived in a country called Islam where they worshipped Allan.
Harold and Allan.
Come on, boys, stop squabbling. |
