Jeez, I was just 20 minutes ago on the bus from visiting a ‘friend’ in Hyde, and when we arrived at the final destination of the bright lights, big city of Ashton-under-Lyne

Jeez, I was just 20 minutes ago on the bus from visiting a ‘friend’ in Hyde, and when we arrived at the final destination of the bright lights, big city of Ashton-under-Lyne

The cracks first started to appear in the marriage to my fourth wife, Fedlimid-Harper, rather early on. On the honeymoon, in fact. I was kind enough to pay for two whole nights in the Scarborough Ainsley Court guest house, allowing her use of the bathroom between the hours of three and four in the morning and stating that- although I couldn’t allow her free use of the WiFi for fear of her getting radicalised and/or aroused- she would be allowed to ask me seven questions over the course of the trip which I would happily Google for her
Since you wondered, the questions she asked were:
I don’t think there was an album released in 2016 that I more desperately wanted to love than Hinds’ debut. Apart from Damien Lazarus’s. And The Joy Formiddable’s. And M83’s (which I felt so apathetic towards it didn’t even make the list). And Nick Cave

In Hamburg in 1834, a young army officer, Baron von Ropp, was attempting to woo the uncommonly beautiful Countess Lodoiska, the green eyed widow of a Polish general, but was wary that the handsome young army officer Baron von Trautmasdorf posed a serious challenge for the beauty’s affections. Because this was the early 19th century, and history is fucking brilliant, Von Ropp felt the best way to lesson the threat of his rival was to slander his good name. Which he did. By writing a poem. About his moustache

Wait…

So there’s the Olsen Twins, yeah? And there’s that one in the ‘Avengers’ film with the magic ability to do absolute anything that the plot requires at that moment, and now there’s Angel Olsen, so how many of them are there in total? Is it four different Olsen’s? Or is there actually just one Olsen, and our belief that there are more is a shadowy conspiracy by the Illuminati/Jews to hide Barack Hussein Obama’s real birthplace in order to pretend that Tupac is dead?
Jesus, this incredible album is only 94th?? Another reason why

I don’t really believe in the existence of ‘guilty pleasures’

Well, that’s not strictly true: if your ‘pleasure’ is forcibly removing the kneecaps of Somalian traffic wardens and leaving them to harden in the sun before burning holes in them with cigarettes and wearing them as gaudily ostentatious oversized hooped earrings, then, yeah, you should probably be considered guilty
The Do La Las are one of the most important artists of the last 100 years

As a pastime that insists on referring to itself as a sport (or even a pastime) baseball is an unrepentant abortion of enjoyment
