Potty Billboards

[Len Bullard <cbullard@HiWAAY.net>]

Judging from some mail I get, some folks may be taking 
the billboard idea a little seriously.   On the beam, this 
would be a tough thing to pull off.  It would be expensive,
hard to manage, and might be a big dud as far as attracting 
attention in England.  They get a steady 
diet of newspapers dedicated to farce and criticism, 
as evidenced by the post from Stephen ZPJ and the recent 
DianaRidesTheMajor scandal.   Our billboard would be a spec 
on an island of whimsy.  We have them in America, 
but we call them HardCopy and put them on TV during 
the dinner hour.

As to upsetting Kate, if that news article doesn't, 
a love letter from her fans on the M1 sure as heck wouldn't.
We are real pikers in that game.

Thanks to Julian for explaining the "briticisms".
We get AbFab, Fawlty Towers, Dead Donkey, and 
The Young Ones in reruns, and most of the best
of the BBC in the States.  Jennifer Saunders taught 
us the incandescent meaning of bollocks.
Great for lighting up the BBQ. 

Beautiful weekend.  We played another outdoor 
festival.  Would gladly have paid the guy doing the 
onstage mix $50 for just two cents of reverb.   Dry foldback 
truly sucks for a vocal band.   Sweet little town, Decatur.  
Full of antique shops, and old style furniture 
stores.  They roasted enough pig meat to kill every 
vegHead for twenty miles.   Saw Kate in the antique shop
on the square.  She says, "Hey, Gomer!"

Potty?  Not the woman I've seen interviewed.  Daft?
Sure.  Goes with the brilliance.  As observed about the 
Talosians, "beings who think in 26 dimensions often 
appear daft to beings who can only manage six or 
seven at best.   It's the random intersection, thing, ya know."
Security?   Of course.  It keeps the nude housekeepers 
and all those coven meetings secret.   

Potty has a different meaning here in the states.
It's a place we go to read the tabloids 
so we can reuse the paper meaningfully.

Maybe she's barbecuing on the weekends.  That could be why 
tabloid journalists enter the compound, and never come out.  
Roasting pigs over their bollocks is why RockGodesses need 
their privacy.  They light the fire with the articles.

Sauce? A dry chianti?  Goes well with roast pig.

len