Sunday 31 May 2015

Pop me a cork, french me a fry

Lordy! Brooke Shields, child actress, model and possessor of some of the most famous eyebrows this side of the late Margaux Hemingway, "beard" to the stars (Michael Jackson, George Michael, John Travolta), is 50 years old today. News to make one feel old...

Her career in the spotlight is well documented, but who knew she sang? Here she is with a rather fab version of the classic Peel Me a Grape [an audience-shot video; I just wish someone would have told the person in front to just bloody sit down!]:

Brooke Christa Shields (born 31st May 1965)

Saturday 30 May 2015

Closer than you could ever imagine us

Timeslip moment again...

Today, our TARDIS has landed in this week in 1997, when none other than Miss Rosie Gaines (another one about whom we ask "whatever happened to her?") had crashed in the UK Top 5 with the magnificent Closer Than Close:

One-hit-wonder she may have been, but what a hit!

Friday 29 May 2015

Tight trousers, felt hats

It's the end of my first week back after the holiday.

I am greatly relieved for that fact - and I'm in just the right mood for some tight-trousered, felt-hatted, open-shirt, Stud-soundtrack-worthy funk courtesy of the Real Thing...

...featuring Legs & Co AND Hot Gossip dancer Floid Pearce!

What more could you want?

The night is still young
Let the DJ play your favourite song
Lets go Disco,
Lets go Disco!

Thank Disco It's Friday, indeed!

Have a great weekend...

Thursday 28 May 2015

"Love you, Kylie"

It's our "Impossible Princess" Kylie's birthday today - and, by way of a "leetle" tribute, here she is helping the inimitable Jean-Paul Gaultier promote the arrival of his fashion retrospective exhibition in Australia last autumn. He loves her...

And, just for the hell of it, here's a classic sing-a-long:

Many happy returns, Miss Kylie Ann Minogue OBE (born 28th May 1968)

Wednesday 27 May 2015

Scrub away, scrub away, scrub away, the SR way

Britain's teeth are imperfect because they haven’t had lots of weird expensive shit done to them, it has emerged.

Following condemnation of the UK’s mouths from dentists and Americans, Britons have claimed their teeth looked flawed because that is cheaper and more natural than glueing on massive fake ones.

Teacher Susan Traherne said: “Are they still on about that, then, with the teeth?

“Has it not occurred to them that putting your teeth in a cage for six years or coating them in chemicals is a bit fucking weird?

“I went out with this American once, I couldn’t look at him directly, or I’d have after-images burnt on my retinas for weeks.

“And dentists can shut up, they’re all weird sadists like out of a David Lynch film.”

Steeplejack Stephen Malley said: “Like anyone normal, I go to the dentist when I can’t stand the pain any more.

“My teeth aren’t white, no, but neither is my dick burnished with the lustrous shine of gold and I’m okay with that.”
The Daily Mash

Of course.

Miss Poly Styrene (RIP) has something to say, too...

[The "real" story]

Tuesday 26 May 2015

Twinkled out

And so, farewell then, to pop singer Twinkle. She had (her only) Top Ten hit in 1964 with Terry, a poor relation of the type of song made popular by the likes of the Shangri-Las - all about a biker and his tragic demise.

Notable at the time for her youth (she was only sixteen) and her on-trend blonde hair and kohl-eyed image, Twinkle, despite being a one-hit-wonder more than half a century ago, remained popular on the "nostalgia concert" circuit up until her recent illness. And here she is...

He said to me he wanted to be near to me
He said he never wanted to be out of my sight
But it's too late to give this boy my love tonight
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry

He said to me he wanted to be close by my side
We had a quarrel. I was untrue on the night he died
And it's too late to tell this boy how great he was
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry

He rode into the night
Accelerated his motorbike
I cried to him in fright
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it!

He said to me, you are the one I want to be with
He said to me, you are the one my love I shall give
One day he'll know how hard I prayed for him to live
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry

He rode into the night
Accelerated his motorbike
I cried to him in fright
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it!

  • Born Lynne Ripley to a wealthy Surrey family, she went to school in Knightsbridge with Camilla (now Duchess of Cornwall).
  • Bizarrely, Terry was banned by the BBC and many radio stations for its doomy content.
  • Chosen as the unlikely support act to the Rolling Stones in their early years, her bad experiences on tour led her to almost quit her music career before it had really begun.
  • She was married to the "Milk Tray Man" from the Cadbury's chocolate adverts.

RIP Lynn Annette Ripley aka Twinkle (15th July 1948 – 21st May 2015)

I'm in no hurry for that final disappointment

One of our "Patron Saints" Miss Peggy Lee was born 95 years ago today. All hail!

It is also my first day back in the office, so, inevitably there's only one song - one of my faves - from the great lady's extensive repertoire that needs to be played, Is That All There Is?

I remember when I was a very little girl, our house caught on fire.
I'll never forget the look on my father's face as he gathered me up
In his arms and raced through the burning building out to the pavement.
I stood there shivering in my pyjamas and watched the whole world go up in flames.
And when it was all over I said to myself,
"Is that all there is to a fire?"

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends
Then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

And when I was 12 years old, my daddy took me to a circus.
"The Greatest Show On Earth."
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears.
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.
And as I sat there watching, I had the feeling that something was missing.
I don't know what, but when it was over,
I said to myself,
"Is that all there is to a circus?"

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends
Then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

And then I fell in love, with the most wonderful boy in the world.
We would take long walks by the river
Or just sit for hours gazing into each other's eyes.
We were so very much in love.
Then one day, he went away and I thought I'd die.
But I didn't.
And when I didn't I said to myself,
"Is that all there is to love?"

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep-

I know what you must be saying to yourselves.
"If that's the way she feels about it why doesn't she just end it all?"
Oh, no, not me.
I'm in no hurry for that final disappointment.
'Cause I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you,
That when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath
I'll be saying to myself -

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends
Then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is.

Think of me, sweeties. Feel the pain...

Peggy Lee official website

Monday 25 May 2015

Deeper love

Nicotiana mutabilis

It is (another) Bank Holiday here in the UK - our last until the end of August! - and my last day of freedom to potter in the extensive gardens here Dolores Delargo Towers before going back to work tomorrow. Groan.

However, I haven't forgotten it is also a Tacky Music Monday! To celebrate two things that cheered us up immensely over the weekend - the Eurovision Song Contest (of course), and the momentous public vote for legalisation of gay marriage in (of all places) Ireland - who else could I choose to entertain us than the lovely Clodagh Rodgers from Ballymena (4th-placed for the UK at Eurovision in 1971) and her (possibly appropriately-titled) number Love Is Deep Inside Of Me?

Happy days, indeed.

Sunday 24 May 2015

We wuz robbed... again, #149 in a series

OK, we should have known. Britain is not the most popular country in Europe. It also does not (naturally) produce the kind of histrionic power-balladry or "oompah" Europop that appeals to various quarters of the continent.

However, I (and all our guests at last night's grand Eurovision extravaganza at Dolores Delargo Towers) thought that this year the UK's entry might have done a little better than FIVE bloody points! We awarded Electro Velvet's jaunty little "Jazz Age" number Still In Love With You, and their stunning performance with illuminated costumes, top marks in our voting (we all have especially prepared scorecards - this party is not just booze'n'buffet and dressing-up, you know! Well... mainly.).

And what of the rest? The ones that beat us included songs about adoption, songs about war and peace and death and love, a cod-opera number from Italy (that came third in the contest, and we voted 4th), "Xena Warrior Woman" (from Georgia), a Britney-Spears-looky-likey (from Spain), a bloody-Bruno-Mars soundalike (from Australia - "special guests" for the contest's 60th birthday celebrations), some electro-pop numbers, some that tried to emulate that "Conchita magic", lots of wailing and some truly horrible voices.

[The eyepatch - decorated with bling, of course - was due to an unfortunate reaction to an insect bite! The joys of gardening...]

A very close second in our "house votes" was a song that was not massively popular in the real-life results (it only got 53 points) - Serbia's larger-than-life Bojana Stamenov with Beauty Never Lies:

But our Number 3 was, it turned out, the actual winner on the evening - the utterly gorgeous Måns Zelmerlöw from Sweden with Heroes (and his impressively imaginative stage effects):

The most scary part of this year's contest - Eurovision having been utterly swamped in recent years by the countries of Eastern Europe who were formerly in its sphere of influence, and whose votes invariably and predictably remain "eastwards" - was "Mother Russia"'s high scoring (they came second in the contest) entry A Million Voices, ironically another whiny "song about peace". Tell that to the Ukrainians.

Just the prospect of what is possibly the world's most popular musical event with us gayers across many cultures and divides [I do not include America as the populace there has never understood it - nor even been shown it - at all; it's most likely because they can't be involved and win, an equivalent being that American Football or Baseball games are referred to as a "World Series" even though absolutely nobody else plays them] could possibly be hosted next year in Kaiser Putin's tyrannical empire, where gays are so cruelly discriminated against and where "neighbours" are actually perceived as "new territory" (to be invaded rather than competitively sung against), was anathema to us. Judging by the (somewhat unfair, as Conchita herself tried to defend their singer against) boos and catcalls every time they got douze points, the massive audience at the event in Vienna agreed.

And so, as the votes from each of the 39 countries in Eurovision (plus guest Australia) mounted up, we found ourselves in the peculiar and unprecedented position of even cheering when countries such as Latvia got top marks from their neighbours. ABR (Anything But Russia), it seems.

We can only hope that one day a British entry might get there, might rediscover that little bit of magic that our last winner Katrina and the Waves (way back in 1997), or Buck's Fizz (who won in 1981), or even Brotherhood of Man (in 1976) - lord help us - had, and provide our proud nation (one of the "Big Five" that funds it all, of course) with a winner again...

Regardless of who, what, where or when, however, our Eurovision Song Contest party remains one of the highlights of our own "Social Calendar" - an opportunity for very good friends to dress up in ridiculous outfits (per nominated country), to screech at the telly, to laugh and get merry. We will be doing it all again, no doubt, same time, same place next year - and long may this ultimate kitsch-fest remain such a magnificent source of entertainment!

Eurovision Song Contest

Saturday 23 May 2015

The excitement mounts

...even Conchita has her balls in her hand!

The Eurovision Song Contest takes place tonight, and we have a suitably be-costumed house-full arriving to enjoy it with us...

Young man playing with his organ

While meandering the streets and alleyways of Barcelona, amongst the many interesting sights a poster with the above picture caught my eye, with the caption Cameron Carpenter - 'Enfant terrible' de l’orgue. Kinky, I thought.

However, it seems that Mr Cameron is indeed - ahem - rather talented, as this video demonstrates:

Nice organ, too.

Cameron Carpenter

Friday 22 May 2015

With no blacks, no Jews and no gays

Today would have been the 85th birthday of the world-famous Harvey Milk, the (first in the US) out-gay public official in San Francisco who was assassinated in 1978.

By way of a little tribute to the "first modern-day gay martyr" (as some Americans would have it), and in recognition of our usual upbeat way to celebrate a weekend, I simply must play one of my favourite disco choons from that era - a time when Mr Milk represented what everyone thought may have been a new epoch of freedom for us gayers...

Produced by the genius that is August Darnell, who also gave us Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band and Kid Creole and the Coconuts, here is Machine and There But For The Grace Of God Go I:

Carlos and Carmen Vidal just had a child
A lovely girl with a crooked smile
Now they gotta split 'cause the Bronx ain't fit
For a kid to grow up in
Let's find a place they say, somewhere far away
With no blacks, no Jews and no gays

There but for the grace of God, there go I
There but for the grace of God, there go I, I, I, I, I, I, I

Poppy and the family left the dirty streets
To find a quiet place overseas
And year after year the kid has to hear
The do's and don'ts and the dears
And when she's ten years old she digs that rock'n'roll
But Poppy bans it from the home

There but for the grace of God, there go I
There but for the grace of God, oh go I (could be me, could be you)
There but for the grace of God, oh go I, I, I, I, I, I, I

Baby, she turns out to be a natural freak
Gaining weight and losing sleep
And when she's sweet sixteen, she packs her things and leaves
With a man she met on the street
Carmen starts to bawl, bangs her head to the wall
Too much love is worse than none at all

There but for the grace of God, there go I
There but for the grace of God, there go I
There but for the grace of God, oh go I
There but for the grace of God, oh go I, I, I, I, I, I, I

Thank Disco It's Friday!

RIP Harvey Bernard Milk (22nd May 1930 – 27th November 1978)

Read our previous tribute to Harvey Milk

Thursday 21 May 2015

The season of love

“La chanson française (French song) is a good lyric and, if possible, a good melody. La chanson américaine is a good melody and, if possible, a good lyric.”
Thus none other than the commanding figure of Charles Aznavour, creator of some of the finest works within the genre, summed up the cultural differences between the traditional French chanson and any other kind of song-style in the West.

With good reason, as the delightful documentary Je t'aime: The Story of French Song we watched last night explained - presented by Petula (not yet a Dame, but should be) Clark, whose own mega-successful career is largely based around such chansons.

Suffice to say it was everything we could want from a potted history of a beloved type of music; one that delights in "challenging" themes, such as prostitution, alcohol, homosexuality and politics. Everyone from Edith Piaf to M. Aznavour to "yé-yé" to Marc Almond to Stromae was featured, including Charles Trenet, Gilbert Bécaud, Jane Birkin, Jean Sablon, Georges Brassens, Anna Karina, Jacques Brel, Barbara, Léo Ferré, Brigitte Bardot, France Gall, Étienne Daho, Françoise Hardy and of course Serge Gainsbourg...

...and the très magnifique Juliette Gréco - here singing Si tu t'imagines [the lyrics of which translate as “If you imagine, my dear, that the season of love is going to last forever, you got it all wrong...”]

Vive “La chanson française"!

Wednesday 20 May 2015

The return...

We're back from Sitges and Barcelona, tired but happy...

After a whirlwind five days of booze, beach and boy-watching, cultural extravaganza and kitsch, Tinto de verano and Tapa Tapa with old friends and new - in the most brilliant weather imaginable till the last day - what have we missed?

British weather? - mostly disgusting by the sound of it, and the state of some of our battered seedlings would indicate there were hailstorms at Dolores Delargo Towers... Such a shame we were sat on a beach in 30C heat with drinks in our hands.

News? - not much changes: Middle-East meltdown, natural disaster in Nepal and political boredom in the UK. Things best forgotten for a few days, methinks.

We were away for the International Day Against Homophobia (IDAHo) - but were very pleased to note Sitges (Spain's gayest resort) did mark it with a reading of the international manifesto and the planting of flowers at their own "Homomonument".

We missed marking the 60th birthdays (gulp!) of Hazel O'Connor and gymnast Olga Korbut, and the 55th birthday of 90s legend Yazz. We missed the announcement that the headline act at this autumn's Proms in the Park is none other than (what remains of) The Jacksons. The Eurovision Song Contest looms large (and we will begin preparations for our annual party over the next few days), but I always steadfastly avoid listening to almost any of the song entries until the night itself; that's a joy(!) I like to save up for when it comes to the scoring...

As for what new little (musical) prezzies we've brought back, it's not a lot - one of the bars ("El Horno") specialised in 80s Hi-NRG, and another regular "Casablanca" had the campest old musical repertoire. One would never expect an entire hour of Miss Dorothy Squires anywhere else! But one song - albeit not in the least Spanish; the singers are Romanian and the theme is about an Italian - did pique my interest a little as we sipped our vino. Here's Elena...

Shame to be back so soon, but at least we have a brilliant tan while the Brits are still wrapped up in windcheaters :-)

Thursday 14 May 2015

I'm dancing!

[la Sagrada Família, Barcelona]

By the time you read this, dear friends, we will be well on our way to the sunny gay fleshpot that is Sitges, and not returning for another five days...

Stepping into unknown territory is always exciting - Barcelona is on the doorstep, a city we have never visited before.

So exciting, indeed, that our clothes are in danger of falling off!

Just like the fabulous Hermanas Goggi, in fact.

"Normal" service will be resumed next Wednesday...

Wednesday 13 May 2015

We only live once

The sunshine is dazzling this morning. It is my last day in the office for 12 days, and we're off to the delights of Sitges in Spain tomorrow.

I am ecstatic (or certainly will be this evening when I hopefully manage to get out of work early enough to enjoy a celebratory drinkie in the extensive gardens here at Dolores Delargo Towers)!

Contributing to our "countdown" to Spain (and tying in rather neatly with our annual Eurovision party that takes place a few days after we hit British soil next week), I think it's appropriate that we should feature the rather fab Azucar Moreno - whose remarkable performance at the Song Contest in 1990 remains one of my favourites - and a cheery song I have only just discovered by them:

[Solo Se Vive Una Vez = "You Only Live Once" in Spanish, apparently]


Tuesday 12 May 2015

The backpack season has begun

Wild, free-spirited festival lets you do anything except bring in beer.

A music festival has invited punters to do whatever they like except bring in their own alcohol.

The Freedom Valley festival features 52 live acts, 78 DJs and 126 bar areas.

A spokesman said: “We want you to be wild and free, to dress outrageously and do whatever crazy primal things you care to think of, as long as you don’t bring in any alcohol.

“Because we will take it off you.”

Ticketholders were reminded that a condition of being wild and free is that they submit to extensive security searches including sniffer dogs, backpack checks and having someone with a torch look through their car boot.

The spokesman said: “This is going to be one crazy weekend – our event is inspired by the pagan orgies of the ancient past, when England was still the mystical and lawless land of Albion.

“Interestingly, historical records show that revellers could not bring their own booze to orgies because this would offend the gods or, as they are known today, shareholders.

“But apart from not bringing in any beer you can dance like a banshee to Gogol Bordello and do exactly whatever you want, except pitching your tent wherever there is a red flag, or going in the VIP area or the banqueting tent without a special wristband.

“And you have to fuck off by 11am Monday because the organiser wants their ancestral home back.”
The Daily Mash

Of course.

Monday 11 May 2015

Hats off!

Gratuitous photo of a shirtless Tom Daley; I doubt we'll see him on our holiday.

It's the start of another week, dear friends, but a foreshortened one for us - for this Thursday we jet off to Spain (again), this time to the previously unexplored delights of Sitges, near Barcelona, for a celebration of our friend Joe's 50th. By repute this resort is the gayest-of-the-gay resorts, so we are looking forward to it immensely, as one would...

None of this takes away from the fact that it is still a Tacky Music Monday - when we all need something vivacious to wake us up and get our arses in gear for the delights of the office. There are few quite as vivacious [nay, shouty] as Señorita Lola Flores - here singing a song to her hat(!), Mi Alegre Sombrero...

Have a great week, peeps!

Sunday 10 May 2015

A word from our sponsor...

...and an appropriate one, methinks, given the massive remembrance events that have been going on all this weekend to mark VE Day.

Seventy years ago, Britain and its allies were celebrating the defeat of Hitler and a long-awaited return to peace in Europe.

Unfortunately the lovely Al Bowlly - one of the great voices of the pre-war and wartime era, arguably Britain's first "pop star" in that "Big Band crooner" style - was yet another of the casualties of the great conflict. He was killed in an air raid on London in April 1941.

Mr Bowlly leaves a lasting legacy of beautifully-crafted and orchestrated songs - including this one from 1934, a song that very much suits the mood this sunny Sunday:

The very thought of you
And I forget to do
Those little ordinary things
That everyone ought to do

I'm living in a kind of a daydream
I'm happy as a king
And foolish though it may seem
To me, that's everything

The mere idea of you
The longing here for you
You'll never know
How slow the moments go
Till I'm near to you

I see your face in every flower
Your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you
The very thought of you, my love

I see your face in every flower
Your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you
The very thought of you, my love

Al Bowlly on Wikipedia.

Saturday 9 May 2015

A dirty sense of humour

"To be a comic woman, you have to put up with quite a bit of banter. But I didn't mind. I've got a dirty sense of humour and I never found those things really offensive."

"I used to be very extravagant. Once, because I was appearing on The Kenneth Williams Show I went to Harvey Nicks and bought two outfits for £600 - which was a fortune in those days - and then took myself to the Hyde Park Hotel for tea."

"I was once mistaken for Shirley MacLaine in a fish-and-chip shop off the Edgware Road."

The marvellous Joan Sims would have been 85 today.

Apparently: [she] felt that the Carry On films had cast a shadow over her career, but she enjoyed the fame they brought her and liked to recall a cab driver who spent an entire journey talking wistfully about other Carry On stars. As she got out and was walking to her door he called out, "Shame you're all dead, innit?"

Shame, indeed. Only Babs Windsor and Jim Dale are left (from the "core" team), I believe...

Irene Joan Marion Sims (9th May 1930 – 27th June 2001)

Friday 8 May 2015

Talk, Talk

Strange bedfellows, indeed - sharing a birthday today are such disparate souls as Sir David Attenborough, Edward Gibbon, Sid James, Ricky Nelson, Saul Bass, Ezio Pinza, Toni Tennille, Phyllida Law, Dame Felicity Lott, "H" from Steps, Enrique Iglesias, Melissa Gilbert and Tom of Finland...

...and Philip Bailey from Earth Wind & Fire!

So to get us in the mood for a party, as another tiresome week draws to its conclusion, here is the man himself with the EWF boys - and their oh-so-subtle outfits - with a most appropriate song for today. For, whoever will be forming our new government, the message is clear - Let Me Talk...

Thank Disco It's Friday!

Have a good weekend, all.

Thursday 7 May 2015

Thought for the day

It's the General Election in the UK...

We'll be glad when it's all over.

Wednesday 6 May 2015

'Cause baby, I believe that you're a star

RIP one of my childhood crushes, Errol Brown and his tremendous performing trousers.

Lester Errol Brown MBE (12th November 1943 – 6th May 2015)

Tuesday 5 May 2015

Together again. Maybe...

News of the long-awaited (planned) follow-up to Wim Wenders' wildly successful 1999 film documentary Buena Vista Social Club gives me a perfect excuse to play some music to ease the troubled mind as we head back to the office after a long weekend...

Here's Maria Bethânia with original Club member Omara Portuondo and Tal Vez*:

Lovely. I feel better already.

["Tal Vez" = "Maybe" in Spanish]

Monday 4 May 2015

The Start of Something?

OK, it's a Bank Holiday for us in the UK, but it is still a Tacky Music Monday here at Dolores Delargo Towers!

They don't get much tackier (by repute) than Miss Pia Zadora but, game girl that she is, she allowed herself to be well-and-truly the "butt of the joke" in Naked Gun 33 1⁄3: The Final Insult.

Poor her, trying to get through this whole number with Frank Drebin on the loose...

Hope you are enjoying your extra day off as much as we are (pottering in the sunny garden - not in a Las Vegas showgirl costume, I might add)!

Sunday 3 May 2015

Take off your coat and come inside

As today is (gulp!) the 65th birthday of Wales' most toothsome balladeer Miss Mary Hopkin, as it is Sunday (traditional home of the best mellow music Radio 2 can offer), and as the Eurovision Song Contest looms ever closer (only three weekends away, just after we lurch back from our little trip to Sitges and Barcelona), let us wallow in a little sweetness to lighten our load - between bouts of gardening - with her Eurovision entry from way back in 1970...

Yes, I know her world-famous hit was Those Were The Days, but I really cannot bring myself to play that [too many terrible cover versions have assaulted our ears; it is a staple of the dreadful accordionist-buskers of the Costa del Sol].

Many happy returns, Mary Hopkin (born 3rd May 1950)

Saturday 2 May 2015

You got lots of energy, yeah

Despite the dreary overcast weather that (inevitably) has marked the start of our bank holiday weekend, we've knackered ourselves out, slogging in the extensive gardens here at Dolores Delargo Towers.

In between times, we've been taking a little timeslip moment here and there; and here, from thirty years ago this week is a gem that was just making its first entrance in the UK charts - the very marvellous Dead or Alive and Lover Come Back to Me...

I've been lyin' here so lonely
I've been wishin' you would telephone me
Oh, I just can't lose this desperation
Won't you bring around a new sensation?
Baby, you got lots of energy, yeah
Gonna give that energy to me, yeah
Tell you, "We could have a real good time, yeah"
Baby, I can make you mine, oh mine, yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah

Lover, come back to me
You don't have to knock on my door
Lover, come back to me
Kick it right down
Kick it right down
Kick it right down
Right down

Hoo aaa
Hoo aaa

Baby, all I feel is desperation
And it's not a very nice sensation
I've been wishin' you would telephone me
I've been lyin' here, oh oh, so lonely
Baby, we could have a real good time, yeah
Tell you, "I can make you mine, all mine, yeah"
Baby, you got lots of energy, yeah
Baby, give that energy to me, yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah

Lover, come back to me
You don't have to knock on my door
Lover, come back to me
Kick it right down
Kick it right down
Kick it right down
Right down


Friday 1 May 2015

Crazy nights and lazy days

I'm overjoyed - as at 4.30 this afternoon, it's a Bank Holiday weekend! Three days away from the stuffy office, plenty of time to get things done on the garden, lie-ins...

Time for a proper party, methinks - and here's Mick Jackson (the man who wrote Blame It On The Boogie) and his incredible bubble-perm to get us started in that quest.

Weekend, we love you!

Thank Disco It's Friday!