Basingstoke. Kraftwerk. Karaoke slam.
Our so-called “columnist” with a pile of words in some kind of order. His column feels like that day your parents moved house and didn’t think to mention it. Eh? Not happened to you? Just us then…
Sport Sport Sport
Pop it in the goal, mate. That was easily a hole in one, ref. He’s got a googly in the bunker. Sport!
Casio
You’ve found him! Our so-called columnist has moved. He is now officially the sport pages of electronic music. New home, same level of delusion…
Cattle
There would come a day, inevitably, when our so-called columnist would tip himself over the edge. That day has come, he has finally lost it and what broke him?
Cattle. CATTLE!
Amoeba blobby thing
When our so-called columnist gets ideas above his station, we hang him upside down in the stationery cupboard for a bit. We forgot we’d put him there this month. He went a bit odd, can you spot the difference?
Caveman
We’ve spent this month hiding all manner of computers, pens and stone tablets, but somehow he still managed to cough up a column. Come to think of it, did he actually write this? Even we don’t know anymore…
Mullet Mickey’s Taste Emporium
Our so-called columnist walks an ever-decreasing fine line between having a job and, well, how to put this? not having a job. Here he wins our Annual first mention of Xmas competition, by some distance…
1988
If our columnist had a time machine and went to 1988 and we pulled the plug out, accidentally, it would only take him 30 years to walk home from the past. Oh look, here he comes now…
The Moon
Welcome to the the official sports pages of electronic music. Going where no man has gone before, eh? If he’s not careful our unhinged columnist will be queuing up where lots of people have been before – the dole office
Lifeboat
All aboard for another wild wordy ride with our, what do call it? Oh yes, columnist. There are sick bags under your seats should they be required