In addition to being overendowed in the organ department, the indefatigable Alan Sloman now appears to possess one of these twitter things.
No, me neither. I’m more social security than social media.
However,exhaustive research appears to indicate that it is some sort of device which allows elderly gentlemen to exchange smut using portable telephones.By exploiting the technology, La Sloman appears to have developed a sizeable coterie of devoted acolytes, or “pursuers” as I believe they are called, who obey his every wish. Now, every now and then, the great man has his funny bone tickled by some piece of puerile whimsy on this blog, and commands the lieges to view.
And they turn up in their hordes (hordes I tell you !). Naturally they are extremely welcome, and boost the page view numbers dramatically, so further putting off the evil day when Blogger close me down for wasting bandwidth. Tragically, most of them are bitterly disappointed, can’t see what the fuss was about, and never come back. Such, I suppose, is showbiz.Thus, today, having swept up all the empty crisp packets, silver paper, and rolled cardboard left by my recent guests, I am left again with just the tumbleweed for company and a severe dose of la tristesse.
Such is the awesome power of the
twa tweet that I feel I must caution The Pursuers against the day when The Dear Leader suggests that they take all their families and start a community (Slomanstown) in the Central American jungle.With free soft drinks.
Oh, and thanks, Mr.S.
Anyway (anyhow, anywhere)
This is one of my favourite songs,and I can’t find a decent version of it on the Tube. Dick Gaughan and Edi Reader are a bit OTT- The Corries (the Angry one and the other one) are, well, The Corries.Even instrumental versions are a bit iffy ( there doesn’t even seem to be a good flute band clip which is surprising as it’s a standard) , but this is pretty ok.