well that’s all from me angela grippon and the rest of the news team..i now pass you over to colin calendar for our weather, reporting tonight from the edges of time.
hello colin luv…what’s in store for us on this foggy eve?
hello angela sugar tits…well it really is going to be handbags at dawn in a bunch of hours, as a dull mist of historical religious ectoplasm builds up under the hemisphere tonight… indeed the ghosts of our own fanciful shit are out in full force right now.. it’s creating an intellectually thick smelling mist, and we can’t yet tell if the arctic snow caps are melting or merely crying. as you can tell from my graph here, the most powerful people in the world tonight are also the most dangerous, however this chronic cultural constipation we’ve created for ourselves is building up so uncomfortably, it may well give way to itself…it’ll probably get wet and messy for us all.. there’ll be a lot of metaphysical cleaning up to do during the aftermath, but that’ll result in a deep and delightful feeling of relief, and once the pungent air clears, the new music and flowers should make our gardens more fragrant again for a while. it’s a completely natural cycle of course, so while it looks like there’s a blizzard of brown shit ahead, those who intend to keep their noses and arses clean, could well survive to see a more forward minded springtime, with a little less emphasis on spendy vinyl box sets and dead pop star paraphernalia.
so that’s the weather.. typical winter of discontent really.. happy new year to the clever ones who’ve already made a leap over to the other side.