Everyday is like Sunday

Remember when Eddie Izzard wasn’t fucking running around and was just funny.

You need to get your head examined

Remember when comedians were too cool for charity.

Remember when Harriet Wheeler of the Sundays of the peculiarly beautiful yet slightly grating voice was like an Indie wet dream come to life.

Remember when there was a distinct possibility Nostradamus was right and we were all going to die. The Iron birds dropping from the sky etc.

Remember Mr Freezes and the potential life threatening illnesses we may all get from sucking on torn orange flavoured plastic.

In fact, remember Slush Puppies and the potential life threatening illnesses we may all get from sucking on flavoured ice dyed with comb cleaner.

Remember when walking down O’Connell Street in the Dubalin, there was always a slight fear in the back of your head that a bomb might go off.

Remember the sun used to be sunnier.

Remember the threat of global annihilation thanks to the Cold War was at the back of your mind while walking down O’Connell Street in Dubalin, fearing being blown up.

Remember anything seemed possible

Today’s search item of the day: Lorraine bracco wearing leather (You peoples are crazy)

This band really liked their sepia, just like me. Susan Boyle didnae doo justice tae it, ya ken! Blathered, aye!

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