EDitorial ± 6-Jan-2003
Out for a constitutional yesterday arvo in the bloomin' bleak midwinter, having managed to shoe-horn the protesting kiddies into the motor. Brought to mind an old management (for I was once one of that elite band) adage:
Never teach a pig to sing.
It wastes your time and annoys the pig.
On reaching the pay & display at the vaguely-Portmeirion-like Thorpe Ness, fumbled in pockets for change and found diddly-squat. So into the caff to break into a crisp fiver. Rather than go for the News Of The World with free Soap Studs / Soap Dishes calendar, opted instead for a packet of Love Hearts from good ol' Swizzels Matlow.
My pack contained these cardioid messages:
- For Keeps - oh well, you can but hope
- My Boy (x2) - undertones of Fagin here
- Don't Cry - breaking up is oh so hard to do
- True Lips - you what?
- Love You - honey I'm leaving
- Just Say No (x2) - Zammo would be proud
- Be Good - and if you can't be good...
- True Love - I look just like Buddy Holly
- My Pal - you're my mate
- Guess Who - take your hands off my eyes
- Kiss Me - mwah!
- Trust Me - bit sinister; dump him now
- My Woman - for the more mature sweet lover?
- Miss Me - question or order?
- All Mine - never learned to share
- I Love You - three little words
Was kind of hoping that they might have moved on to say "text me" or "broadband now", but no. You'd appear to be covered, though, for most eventualities.
Be seeing you!