I have been engaged on sampling the weather whilst contemplating life, the universe and small furry-things this afternoon, in the garden.
Having time to spare I thought of one of the troubling questions of 21st Century life.
If you were to be castaway on a desert island, with the most irritating and obnoxious character from TA - That’s character mind, not actor/actress. Which 8 tons of tatty old gramophone records, would you choose to land from a great height, right on top of them
And! What luxury would you take with you. (Personally I’d take another eight tons of gramophone records. To do a thorough job.)
Think I could just manage another cold Guinness… Hope you are all having a good day.
Lots and lots and lots of Top Fifty Hits Compilations to fall on Kate.
And my luxury would be an inexhaustible cellar of fine wines to drink in peace and without her assistance until I was rescued.
From deep in the cellar, where the really good stuff is, comes the sound of cackling and the smell of fag smoke, dahling…
They might be annoying, but they are apparently reliable providers of mind-blowing sex.
So, erm, a gag for them or some earplugs for me?
Roof. Miserable twunk.
Luxury item … a fully functioning boat.
Record: There’s no one quite like grandma (not any more there’s not, bwahahahaha!)
Luxury: infinite quantities of shop-bought foods (only the best shops the world has to offer, mind… and absolutely no lemon dratted drizzle) Oh, that wouldn’t be allowed, would it, under The Rules. Frankly, the splattage of Jill would be luxury enough for a week or so. let me ponder where we go from there.