So anyway, yeah. I'm not inventing a new cartoon superdrughero (again, that could be ace, or just someone preventing a robbery in an inferior Boots rip-off shop), I'm just burbling about things sloshing about my head. In type form. The burbling, that is, things aren't sloshing about my head in type form. Oh no, they slosh in lurid, sleazy, all-too-graphic detail. No matter what I'm thinking about. Thinking about red leicester cheese? Lurid, sleazy, all-too-graphic detail. It's both a blessing and curse. And a load of old tossy waffle, too.
To business, though. I reckon it's time for a sPazTune. Yes, you heard me right, a sPazTune. Not a sPazAmp, a sPazTune. Why? I heard you shout in an incredulous fashion (utilising my special set of internet enabled ears, ears that can even detect made-up sounds. Yes, I have used that line before. Sue me, bitch). Well, I'll tell you. See, my car, little Adolf the Audi A3 (1.8t sport, if you must know) is a little elderly. S reg elderly, to be precise. And, like all similarly elderly audis, he suffered from a very specific ailment. Namely, the stereo volume control. See, in their infinite teutonic
All well and good you might be saying (you probably aren't, because you aren't reading), but what on earth does that have to do with the price of sPazAmps? Well, see, I thought I'd be technoclever. I bought one that went with the old iPod (well, not that old, that was also a self-present, replacing the giantist original one with the vastly decrepit battery. I lent the interim replacement, a splendid little Sony thing, to a man going to Iraq). And I couldn't be fussed with sPazAmping with an iPod, so I bit the horrible Apple bullet and reinstalled sPazTunes.
So there you go. The reversion to sPazTunes. Except I took so long about this (I was distracted by facebook and things. I'm so cool. No, you can't touch me. Get off) that you don't get an actual sPazTune. I listened to lots of psychobilly, trawl back through previous efforts and compile your own. There's enough of them in there. Christ, do I have to spoonfeed you EVERYTHING, cementheads?
BEGONE.
15 comments:
Hi Shoelace,
Got all excited at the prospect of another sPazTunes - popped open a bottle of Asti Spumante to celebrate in fact - then ... nada.
So I ended up posting on Blah You're Branes instead. Every cloud has a silver-effect lining I suppose.
In eager anticipation of more musical treats from the Mutant Brain,
Millie
Hmph. Did you go back through and compile your own from the demented fragments of psychobilly tuneage? Did you? Show your working out on a separate sheet.
I was looking forward to it too. Then I got myself a tiny bit drunked and pretended I had better things to do. I did, tbf be fair, the better thing being collapsing on my bed.
Popping the Asti Spumante sounds like a sordid euphemism. I mean, I like sPazTuning as much as the next man (probably more, I mean, I did invent it), but I don't go round popping my Asti Spumante over it.
Pervert.
I haven't quite got round to compiling my own yet, but I am looking forward to finding out what psychobilly sounds like.
As for my 'popping the Asti' I can assure you it was in no ways sordid. It was with delicate finesse that I poured the amber nectar into my best crystal flutes (well, plastic actually, but you can hardly tell). It wasn't till I'd polished that off and gone on to crack open the advocaat that things started to get a bit messy.
As for being a pervert, well, all I can say is it's not me who has crotch shots of a certain elderly Welsh crooner on my blog ;)
Don't be filing images of The Jones in his natural poolside state under perversion. Heresy!
Putting your nectar into your flute just makes it worse.
Don't normally hit the advocaat (christ, anything can sound like a sordid euphemism if you think about it too long. I just "boiled the kettle", hurrr) until that desperate post-Christmas alcohol desert. It's very much like Sherry in that respect, and the nasty bottle of wine the cheapskate relative buys you as a present despite never having shown any inclination to be a wine drinker.
You're either being far too subtle for me or you actually think I drink stuff like cheap, sweet, white wine and eggnog. I don't!!! The mere thought of it has me punctuating like an HYSer.
And apologies if my TJ comment was, um, a bit below the belt.
I'm rarely subtle on purpose, I lack the cerebral capacity (nearly all of mine is devoted to defending the Honour of the Jones, and cherishing the childhood crush on Felicity Kendall. My, how wrinkly she's gone. Let's remember her in her nubile, urban-agricultural prime, patronising one and all from a comfortable middle-class perspective).
C'mon, we've all partaken (partaked, partook) of an ill-advised alcoholic indulgence that betrays our innate sophistication. I drank a litre of Pernod once.
For the record, I have you down as either teetotal (boo), expensive malt (non-boo), red wine (less-boo) type of Millie. Either that or Buckfast (well, you take a Scottish name).
Everything about The Jones is below the belt. Apart from his leathery lungs.
Although it could refer to a micropayment system, in my case Millicent is "a female given name meaning "she with the gentle gait" (from Old High German mel, "dear, mild, gentle" and Gothic sinps, "walk, gait, military expedition"). The old German form is Melisenda, the modern German form is Melisande, and the French form is Mélisande. The name was popular with the Western Franks, for example it was borne by Melisende of Jerusalem in the 12th century."
Scottish?
And although I am on the whole exceedingly mild and gentle, I do still have to attend anger management classes as part of my parole conditions. I think they just want me there as a positive role model.
My ill-advised alcoholic indulgence which betrayed my innate sophistication was, once we'd polished off everything else that could possibly be poured into our gobs, Creme de Menthe. Haven't been able to even sniff the stuff since.
I'm now about 60% percent teetotal. During the remaining 40% of the time I'll happily knock back expensive malt, red wine (preferably), white wine (if red not available), Buckfast (haven't tried it but would like to, sounds interesting: "has achieved a surprising level of popularity within working class and bohemian communities in certain parts of Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland"), cidre, scrumpy, white beer, absinthe, vodka, ... actually, I better stop, I need to get some lunch and this could go on for a while.
Well, I more sort of meant the Munro bit ... [tails off into barely audible mumbling in lieu of a point]
You missed The Rum off the list. No list is complete without The Rum, not even lists that have nothing to do with The Rum.
For shame. FOR SHAME. End of.
I didn't miss it off, I just hadn't got round to it.
But the night is still young and I don't want to put you to sleep this early with a long, boring list of Millie's tipples, so I'll just leave it at Asti Spumante and Advocaat being my least favorite. That and warm brown ale.
Lists of tipples are never boring. Certainly not if they include The Rum.
Yes, I know. I should probably re-evaluate my priorities.
Just to introduce an element of randomness to the process, here's my list put through the blah filter:
blah Beer blah Barleywine blah Rum baa baa blahdy blah blah Schwarzbier blahdy blah Rum barble blahdy Rum blahdy blah Huangjiu barble blah blah blah’blah blah Potion blah blahdy Pulque baa blah Wine Sangria Champagne blah blah Marsala barble Vermouth blah blah blahdy Rum blahdy Armagnac blah blah blah blah baa blah blahdy blah blah Bourbon Scotch blah blah blahdy barble blahdy blah blah Rum Rum Beer Ale Barleywine blah blahdy blahdy barble blah blah blah Schwarzbier Sahti blah Rum barble Cauim Rum blah baa Huangjiu blah blah blah Hag’s Love blahdy barble baa blah blahdy blahdy blahdy blah blahdy Port blah blah Sherry Vermouth blah Spirits Absinthe blah blahdy Armagnac Cognac baa blah blah blahdy Tequila blahdy blah blah Bourbon blahdy blah Schnapps Rum blah Rum baa Rakia blah
Waaaaaaay past my bedtime, and I have an early start! I think my priorities could also do with changing...
I love me a pint of barble, I do. Delightful stuff, whatever it is.
I think what should actually happen is that the world should reorder itself around my priorities. Not dissimilar to what the average HYSer believes, except my reordering would invole much more alcohol and music and no enforced toil, rather than the banning of browns, gays, gay browns, gordon browns, gay gordons, poles, and any development since 1953.
The tiny google ad person in my machine seems to think I have a drink problem.
I think your priorities are sound. Should you ever enter politics you can count on my vote.
The tiny google ad person in my brain disagrees.
No, I don't know what I mean by that. It was just on thirteen comments and I get a bit funny about numbers.
It's probably because you haven't been fitted with a 'full access' chip.
Ongoing conversations in three separate places. Great for those of us with orders of the multiple personality kind.
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