Anubis the Jackal

Rumours of a poisoning conspiracy conneted to match-fixing. Blimey, if true that is truly disturbing.

He played the young trumpeter, funnily enough. Went to the West Indies, only to find Kenny Lynch, The Tubby Hayes Band and a whole can of voodoo whoop-ass. Great film, with some top Alan 'Fluff' Freeman acting no less.

Or rather, seeing as it was in South London, pop a cap in its feline ass.

Bob Woolmer, now sadly dead according to news

Man of Kent, me.

Christ, there's Kents everywhere I look. Kentish men or men of Kent?

Speaking from bitter experience, there's no such thing. Full of mouth-breathers and spoon-feeders, the lot of 'em.

Really? Me too. What school was it? St Stumpys.

Prompted by the idea of Sister Wendy, The Musical I wish a slow and painful death on anyone who thinks it is in any way humorous or original to juxtapose lowbrow pop culture and highbrow 'art.' As an example, I give you the awful series of 'operas' currently infesting our national broadcasting network, oh-so-hilariously basing new operatic works on trash TV. if any BBC commissioning editors responsible for this bilge happen to be reading this... ...drown yourself in a vat of warm tramp-wee. NOW! OK, so 'Jerry Springer - The Opera' was a good idea and wound up those who enjoy getting wound up by that sort of thing, but please; don't trample it into the ground any more. It rates alongside the BBC Symphony Orchestra playing a 'Grime' concert as the ultimate in patronising, self-satisfied sh*t-mongering, and is about as original and witty as a rugby team dressing up as ballet dancers. Again. W**nkers.

Holy sh*t! It's Sister Wendy, The Musical! No mention of any Odyssey songs though.

In what way, and by whom exactly? I, for one, admire Mr Ali's dedication to what he obviously considers a subject worth doing properly. Quite the opposite from my slapdash methodology. I am also willing to take a side-bet that he will end up trouncing me hollow in the DDP, despite us both currently being tied for third place.

no. just no, ok?

Scouse car insurance usually tends to be of the 'Mind yer car for a fiver, Mister?' variety.

So true, I passed George Melly in the street once and he din't recognise me either. Obviously I avoided the kidnapping charge but it was a close run thing.

That'll be a great pick for next year, if only to counter any charges of populism as regards the names. Just imagine 'Oscar Nominated Yak Farmer' as occupation!

Thanks for your concern but I fear our Banshees may be beyond your help!

Banshees, man. Much as I dislike the Royal Family, it has to be said that Phil the Greek spent nearly all of World War Two on active service against the Axis powers and not just fannying about in a safe posting. He is many things, but not a Nazi (or lizard.)

This could be a tax-dodging ruse,which is more common than you may think. My Grandfather was 3 weeks 'older' than his stated date of birth, as this carried his birthdate over into the next financial year, giving my great-grandfather an extra 49 weeks of tax relief. Apparently.

Fair point, well made Gungy.

Sinatra was quite possibly the most influential vocalist of the 20th century. Miles Davis openly admits that much of his phrasing was based around his. Anyone who has ever sung into a microphone owes him some sort of debt, he pretty much invented the hushed confidential style of singing which, before electrical amplification would have been hidden behind any form of instrumentation. Elvis, let's face it, pretty much invented manufactured white-boy rock and roll, so please Banshees, just this once, admit you are totally, inexcusably and utterly wrong.

I love the smell of stinking hypocrisy in the morning. We know the ilness, we name the daughter but we won't reveal the name of the illness to 'protect the privacy of the family' You can bet your last euro that they'll pay big time for the first paparazzi shots of 'worried' Depp leaving the hospital, or 'distraught' Paradis rushing to her bedside. Shitbags.

Not to worry my Arthurian Friend...plenty of UK obits already.

I believe it's called humour, on account of the success of various British thespian dames recently. Ah, that's killed it dead, hasn't it.

Going Down. Doo-doo-doo-do-do-dooooo!

Lady Bird Johnson, just to be different... Eh? What? oh.