Coffee and Angels

We have a customer who is something to do with Bigtown’s Symphony Orchestra. Last year she gave us tickets to the Christmas Pops thingy and recently she gave us tickets to see the Orchestra and Aaron Spelling. I know it sounds a strange combination and indeed it turned out to be a night of disappointments, which seems to be a theme in my life lately.

The festivities started off quite well with the Liberty Bell March by Souza. Sadly for Souza (like he gives a rat’s) no one can listen to this without thinking of Monty Python, which incidentally is pronounced Pie-thun. I only mention this as inevitably when people discover I am English they tell me how much they like Monty Python. Dude, that was 40 years ago, move on, try watching a Bottom DVD at least that is only 20 years old. So at the end of the march the conductor says “And now for something completely different”. How the Boss and I howled. (If two people laugh in the Bigtown auditorium, does it make any sound?). Then he spoiled it all by talking about Tin Pan Alley music, which was apparently a flash in the pan at the outbreak of World War I in 1917. WTF! What are you teaching your kids out here? Where were you in 1914? This is just as bad as that nonsense you people spout about saving my ass in 1943. (BTW you are wrong on that as well, I wasn’t even an ovum in 1943). WWII started in 1939 and we broke the Germans backs in time for you to saunter over and steal all the glory. Oh well let’s not dwell on old history.

So the second half arrived and I eagerly awaited Aaron. I was particularly keen to meet Bosely and Charlie’s Angels as I needed to thank Farrah Fawcett for a very happy experience that involved the 14-year-old Coffee Bitch and that poster. You have no idea how crushed I was to discover that this was not a night to be spent with my lovely angels but instead some huge black guy warbling on about how “I don’t know much, but I know I love yoooooooouuu, and that may be all I need to know”. What a rip.

I tell you people, it is a sad Friday night when the only bulge in the Bitch’s pants is a S&W Air Lite PD351