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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59 Call Me Ishmael: Taking the Piss since April 2009
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June
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- A GENTLEMAN IN RETIREMENT.
- HEROES FOR FUCK ALL.
- S&M BRITAIN. PAIN, PUNISHMENT AND HUMILIATION.
- ARMED FORCES DAY.
- MORE GRANNYKNOBBINGGATE, SWISH FAMILY ROBINSON DOW...
- TALKING OF BLACK RADICALS. EVENSONG:THE ROLLING ST...
- BLOOD ON THE HACKS
- WHITHER HIS FEVERED BOMBAST, NOW?
- DON'T MOTHERFUCKER ME, MOTHERFUCKER.
- MATINS Giovanni Palestrina - Missa Papae Marcelli ...
- IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS, MOONLIGHT MILE, TURIN BRAKES
- WINSTON CAMERON ON WORLD WAR TWO
- THIS WEEK'S THIS WEEK.
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY. THE GUARDIAN. IN THE MIDNIGHT...
- EVENSONG: THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN.
- NASTY WOMEN IN GREY JACKETS: ABDUCTION COULD NOT H...
- THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN.
- WIDGERY
- MONSTER MATINS
- AIRVICEMARSHAL SIR RUPERT GOLIGHTLY-JOCKSTRAP, (RETD)
- FOR A FEW DOLLARS MORE.
- POETRY CORNER
- SOUTH AFRICA, PREVIOUS FIXTURES.
- WOTSONTELLY. TOILETS MAGUIRE, GRAVEROBBER ROBINSON...
- WOTSONTELLY. BOHEMIAN CRAPSODY?
- CARING FOR THE OLD.
- ELBY'S EVENSONG, R-O-O-O-O-O-LL ANOTHER ONE, JUST ...
- THEY CAME FROM OUTER SPACE.
- THE LONG, SLOW DEATH OF THE LABOUR PARTY.
- WOTSONTELLY. NUTTER NIXON, THE PARANOID PRESIDENT.
- THAT CANADIAN SHIT.
- THE UNHAPPY AMERICAN. .
- THE PRIME OF MISS FRANK FIELD.
- BLUEGRASS MATINS
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- THOSE TORY NEWBOYS.
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY. THE EVENING STANDARD MAGAZIN...
- MORE ON SHOOTER HEFFER.
- US DYKE OFFENDS BRENDA.
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY, THE PRESS ASSOCIATION, UNLAWF...
- THE HEFFERSPHERE. WHAT'S WRONG WITH TAXI DRIVERS?
- EVENSONG; The Copper Family - Adieu, Sweet Lovely ...
- WOTSONTELLY. MAN IN DRESS AND GOBBY CRACK WHORE TO...
- WHAT TURNS A MAN INTO A CRAZED CLICHE?
- BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY. HUMAN METRONOME STRIKES AGAIN.
- EVENSONG: Georges Bizet: L'Arlésienne-Suite - Fara...
- FROM THE WHITE HOUSE
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2 comments:
Whenever I listen to this I can't get the Christmas version out of my head and then I am hearing At Break Of Day, As I Went On My Way, all day long.
I don't know that, mrs n., sorry. I first encountered this as a kid, on Patrick McGoohan's The Prisoner, a scene in the village record shop; so I always think of him, and I'm obliged.
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