Those Frenchies, eh? When they’re not surrendering to invading forces and eating cheese, they’re sitting in cafes on the left bank of the Seine mumbling about existential torment. And when they’re not doing those things, they’re waggling their frilly knickered bottoms about here and there or being all cultured about the highbrow arts whilst sticking…
Tag: Lewis Carroll
The Gift Of The Fab(s). Or, Here Comes The Son(s Of God, allegedly): Why The Beatles Are Underrated.
When I wrote the last post, about The Stone Roses’ Second Coming debacle, I mentioned that I felt I might have been a bit hard on them and possibly I might do well to redress the balance of having a big old moan by being enthusiastic about something for a change. As it is, I’m…
I Am The Carpenter. Or, See How They Run Like Pigs From A Gun: See How They Cry.
“I weep for you,” the Walrus said: “I deeply sympathise.” With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, Holding his pocket-handkerchief Before his streaming eyes. Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, Lewis Carroll. At junior school I didn’t have very much to do with girls, viewing them as being…
MiddleRabbiting 