I remember the Dodo.
Or was that Dido?
I just don’t know now.
One’s as dead as Fido
and the others as
boring as Bono.
What the hell was that? It just sort of came to me out of my brain and then went all the way down to my fingywingies. Unfortunately they were resting on a keyboard at the time and look what happened! Does this make me a published poet now? Should I start wearing a cravat and smoke a pipe? Who cares. One thing everyone cares about is this weeks CLOTHESLINE OF THE WEEK. All I'm watching is Memphis 88 at the moment and basically Rodney Napper could win it every week but that's no fun, is it. Maybe it is. Nobody really takes a good clothesline in Lucha so I think I need to mix it up a bit with some Smoky Mountain again and bring back the long running saga that was PAUL LEE WATCH.
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