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2006…. A new year and tough decisions are made.Yes it’s that time of year; do you throw away your favourite jeans because the buttons around the waist no-longer meet? Still believe in Santa considering most modern houses don’t have chimneys? And what calendar shall grace the walls for the next 12 months? For the last two years we’ve had the pleasure of the “Hollyoaks Babes”, which usually by March takes on a rather tatty and worn appearance, with various scratch/scuffle marks appearing on the wall just below it. So this year a short list was drawn up and the candidates are as below.
Sister’s Record deal imminent Hollyoaks babes. Agricultural machinery. Farmyard animals. Kittens. Puppies. Anal lesbian chainsaw nuns. Anna Kournikova, (looking rather sweaty) Kelly Brook. After consulting various members of staff/residents the conclusion is that most of the Hollyoaks Babes appear to be anorexic, psychotic and have an avid aversion to any thing vaguely male: sign of the times or are us blokes really that sad/dumb and wimpish, with almost every sentence beginning with “I’m sorry”. Thankfully Miss Kelly Brook won the day and now hangs on the freshly painted wall with pride, next to the big box of man-size tissues and surgical gloves. Moving on…..Talking of babes, my favourite writer/columnist Jane Moore’s use of the term “the bloke” always makes me laugh, so in turn I shall use the term “the bird” when referring to the female of the species: hoping that the strict feminist’s among us won’t jump up and down pissing their dungarees and hollering “he is such a sexist pig” and he writes songs about “shagging”.
It’s a tough life being a bat; imagine the embarrassment of taking the bird for a romantic meal and while she tucks into crispy duck “a la “orange I’m faced with a plate of grotty dead insects, ( sounds a bit like that moronic programme on TV ). Of course being an insectivore has its good points, like the lovely crunchy sound as you munch on a large beetle. And the yellow/green mushy innards that dribble down your chin, its just so dam romantic… Being nocturnal has advantages, such as if not flapping around old church yards with my mates the flying squirrels, the bird is treated to large portions of all night red hot bat love. (Just as soon as I repair the cupboard roof of course, I had splinters in me arse for days). Meeting the bird’s parents was quite an experience as the inevitable question loomed to the method of my employment. Tearing through the sky dressed in purple and yellow, saving humanity from the clutches of evil, being seen on the World Wide Web wrecking your furniture and destroying all forms of scum that doesn’t help little old ladies across the road didn’t go down to well…… “We were hoping she would marry a fat bald small cocked millionaire” said mummy touching her fat bald small cocked millionaire husbands hand.
Talking of Robin, I believe he was seen on tour with various name bands, battering the shite out of his poor drum kit. For further details www.sacktrick.com/robinguy Hopefully be back in a nice warm studio soon, last year was pretty crap, apart from meeting and working with some of the most decent, honest, funny and kind warm people I have ever met, So… Mr John Wood and Mr Gino Pacitti, thank you for restoring my faith in this business: and in humanity in general. See ya ‘all next month, without the Batman outfit…. Mr Bonx. |
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• Home Return back to the homepage • Ghost Story Mr Bonx, Author, previews his chilling story - The Dorset Arms • Music Reviews/Links Read some of Mr Bonx’s insights into music and culture • Pix Set of photos about the life and times of Mr Bonx • Contact Get in touch and leave me a message. • About Mr Bonx Find out about Mr Bonx. Rants Archive December 2005 |
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