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Saturday, 12 September 2015

Flimsy InteRRmission

It's a lazy Saturday afternoon, and as I have nothing better to do, with my Twitter timeline being flooded by British politics again after we had just survived the elections, I can as well blob about a set of flimsy and (most probably!) genuine coincidences to keep us entertained until the second UK LEG of the Moz World Tour 2015 kicks off on Tuesday in Plymouth.

As we all know, Le Monsieur was spotted at a film premier in London earlier this month - please pay attention to his fabulous outfit:

That mesmerizing jacket (and how wonderful it looks without a shirt) however reminded some ch**ky Twitter b****ds of this picture of a certain X-Factor judge called Cheryl Cole - or whatever her name is nowadays, I can't be bothered to look it up:

As some of you might know, Mlle Astraea has a weak spot for said Cheryl, or rather for entertaining her Twitter audience with one or the other career advice towards Mlle Ex-Cole - which I can't post now as Mlle Star Maiden has taken her leave on Twitter again, but I'm sure you'll remember.

Moving on to the next - the film that Monsieur chose to see that evening was "Legend", the story of the Kray twins Ronnie and Reggie. Now where have I seen those two before in the periphery of MorrisseysWorld? It was the FTP guys/gals who once called themselves "Ronnie and Reggie" (before their account was said to be "under new ownership"); there was also a parody titled "Quizzical Krays", back in February this year. Seems like Le Monsieur and FTP share the same fascination for Les Krays.

I haven't seen the film yet, and being the uneducated savage Fruit that I am, I don't know much about the infamous twins, but coincidentally it was Mr Rat Sir who tweeted a photo of a pub yesterday, and thereby indirectly drew my attention to an article about a London pub called "The Blind Beggar" and its connection to the Krays:

The article also mentioned that Ronnie and Reggie owned a number of small bars for the rotten drinking and gambling folk, and amongst those was the Double RR Club:

This again reminded the silly old Fruit of the Double RR Diner in Twin Peaks, where the previously mentioned Hank Jennings found a new career as dishwasher:

That's it for today. I'm now going to delete all those weird Faith No More YouTube links from my bookmarks that I found there this morning, and light a candle for a song of a certain album in Plymouth.


  1. My twitter account is permanently closed in silent outrage that there were no pictures of blonde Biebs on any of the blobs. And for a couple of other reasons. But primarily for the first reason. I’m not all fun and games you know. I have to draw the line somewhere.

    And lest anyone think that I’m joking – just try me.

    Oh, but I almost forgot, you can’t now – because this is the end.
    C’est dommage.

    Tears will have tears. Sadness will sigh. But time trudges on.

    You were always going to miss me when I’m gone.

    And 'when', is right now.


    1. Dearest Mlle! I do not believe what I read, you will abandon us for... a lack of Beiber pics? I had expected such a tantrum from Mademoiselle Fifi, but not from our beloved Star Maiden! Please reconsider. Blue Rose without you - a terrible thought. Frightening even!

  2. I beg your pardon? A tantrum? Next you’ll be accusing me of holding a grudge.

    No, I’m afraid it’s quite, quite over now. And yes, a lack of Bieber pics of late was enough for me to permanently close my account.

    As a matter of fact, I also know how to hold a very, very nice GROWLING grudge. Only on occasion, of course. And when it matches my tassels.

    I could tell you, but I WON’T, that there was a recent incident where our hollow-legged, non-stop boozeling, Olympic-marathon-a-holic, booze-a-thon-elette called me… ‘BOZ-STREA”. I will also NOT tell you, how very deeply unimpressed I was with that.

    Weather has turned. Temperature has changed. Palm leaves have now been put away for the season.

    Which means that someone will now need to keep my twin manservants warm. And that someone, will be… MOI.

    God smiles. I laugh. The manservants are absolutely delighted with my VERY hands-on approach. And now we can all sleep easily, and dream of before.

    Blue roses in the heart. Farewell. Au revoir.

    Goodnight. Goodbye. And thank you.


    1. To my number ONE Pessoa,

      Because you have closed your Twatter account there is no evidence that I MAY have called you that.
      Maybe you should reopen it so I can re-examine?

      Don't leave it too long Astra, you might be missed more than you think.

      From your biggest fan.

      Boozey x

    2. Oh Astra, what can I say. As long as you keep coming back to tell us that this really is most definitely quite the end, I shall not complain. As usual, you are mystère with a hint of enigma - who would've thought that you wouldn't be impressed with being called BOZ-STREA? You do love BB after all, maybe Mlle Bozelette just got confused. I'd like to add that some of us get worse names. Silly Fruit for example.

      À bientôt, chère Mlle.

      Ils sont chouettes, tes servants. If you need help with keeping them warm, let me know.

      À toi pour toujours,
      Fruit crétin

    3. Star Maiden, I am so sad and distressed to see you are leaving. You are a radiant, sparkling presence in this dull, bleak existence. Your prose is always enchanting, intriguing, with a lovely touch of irony and satire. I will sincerely miss you. Unfortunately, my life is a succession of people saying goodbye. If this goodbye is indeed farewell, I hope some day possibly I will see you in far off places.
      I'm writing this to say
      In a heartfelt way
      Thank you - and
      To me you are a work of art.

  3. Things are beginning to get depressing around here, with Astra leaving and the TTY announcement. But somewhere in the depths of my blackened heart I hold out hope that Astra will return to Twitter and Moz will never abandon the stage.