To UTMG and the anonymous wraiths dancing on my ceiling:
The way I feel at the moment, if every band in the world decided on sending a representative to ask me to join their band for a one-off gig to show off my limited range of didgeridoo playing abilities in underwear guaranteed to get me arrested, while simultaneously raising awareness of the global theme of futility as the one and only worthwhile theme for 2006, I'd tell them all to find the longest vacuum cleaner hose on the market within a twenty-four-hour period, shove it where the sun refuses to greet their excrement and show me photos and/or video footage of the event so I had something to prove to my children that it truly happened as I remember.
All except for Muse, that is. To their representative, I'd say: 'You're on. Let's do this thing,' and then ask them post event to take as many photos of my arse within a twenty-four-hour period, or as their budget allowed, as a show of appreciation to those members of the human fraternity proudly still listening to classic rock.
From me to you, I say: you bunch of fucking twat-headed wankers.
By popular demand, and because it's as necessary as the next American Idol winner, this post does not feature Technorati tags.
DDC, your unrelated comment to this post is anticipated and will be answered by one of my many fluffers should they become available.
Bring on the dancing girls.