LISTS, LISTS and more LISTS. We’re drawing mighty close to that time of year. But our Fats has had enough already. He will 1) Not make any lists this year 2) Or maybe he will… 3) What? Oh…
Oh, the folly of the rich and famous. Imagine if our lot got on a Morrissey I-can-write-a-novel kick… we stare off into the distance all wistful, like, and imagine such things…
Our resident columnist is back from his stint at the Edinburgh Festival. We reckon you ought to be seeing him on ‘Mock The Week’ any day now. In the meantime, he’s demanding a pay rise and going on about Aphex Twin again
Our potentially award-winning columnist is not easily impressed. He is, in fact, easily unimpressed. Ask him about DJs these days. Go on, ask him and see what happens. And yes, that is prune juice on his cardigan
Our erstwhile columnist has been let out to play. He’s treading the boards at the Edinburgh Fringe. Brace yourselves because he’s fretting. And when he frets, there’s generally Windowlene involved
Our award-winning columnist tackles the age-old problem of, well, of age and being old. More specifically, being one of those really sad old people who still goes to gigs. Don’t worry, you’re in good company. Fats knows your pain
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