Sinister: Bleu, bleu, l'amour est bleu...

[Robert McTaggart]

Allo allo,

This was a weekend of both just and unjust events.  On the positive
side, Joe Royle's Blue and White army finally made the first of their
big leaps on the road back to the premiership.  Speaking of which, can
I just say "YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS"?  I can?  OK, I will.
YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS.  Thank you.  Masochistic?  Pah.

Sadly though, not everyone is schooled in the ways of true
righteousness.  I'm talking of the crime of Eurovision, which saw the
rightful heir to the thrown, the Icelandic entry, denied by that
bloody Swedish harpie.  I woke up on Sunday convinced it had been a
bad dream, and that my little Icelandic Lorelei had got the
recognition she deserved.  Alas no.  The IKEA boycott starts here.  In
the tradition of Abba, my arse.  And what was that German effort all
about?  Bloody crawlers.   I must say, I don't approve of this
"singing in English" bollocks one bit.  It's so much more EXOTIC when
it's all in foreign.  Which reminds me, Mr Stuart Gardiner, what's all
this crap about not taking Eurovision seriously?  This isn't one of
your "so bad it's good" kitschathons - this is ART, and don't you EVER
forget it.  I demand passion from my entrants.  As it were.  I think
Roolz may go for Eurovision next year - I'm penning our definitive
Euro anthem as we speak, and Joss and I are going to pull Keith and
Warrander's detachable kilts off, Bucks Fizz style, midway through the
performance, to reveal their special edition Roolz posing pouches
beneath.

Anyway La Wumpette and myself ran away to a Hebridean idyll for our
anniversary, where we ate loads of cake and I fell over in a peat bog
and she laughed at me.  I also fell over on some rocks whilst trying
to look at some delightful seals who were frolicking and gamboling in
the water, and she laughed at me again.  And I bought a lighthouse.
Every journey we took in the Tagmobile took at least twice as long as
it should have done, because we kept having to stop every time we saw
a "sheepie-weepie" or a "moo-cow".

The journey home was turned into a rollercoaster of pop thrills by
this year's Booker Prize winner - "The Pop Quiz book", a snip at two
quid from the ferry shop.  My knowlege of the Lieutenant Pigeon back
catalogue surprised even me.  Keith, I hereby challenge you to a duel,
specially modified pop brains at dawn.  On guard!

Antje, I'm glad my Custarica nonsense in Papercuts whetted your
appetite, you will not be disappointed, I promise.

Tag xx
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