÷2.

Chum...

Matey...

What f@%£ing BRASS section!!!!!!??????

I've payed for the rights - twice I shall have thee know - to be rightfully and dutifully musically transported back to c. 1981 (or 82)...or thereabouts...

Not...and I want to make this absolutely clear to all and sundry in authority / power / the know / rubber hammocks (...OK: skip the last one...)...NOT nineteen eighty frakking six!!!!!!!

The first sign of anything remotely resembling a brass section...or any non-approved quartet of expected 'Vox musicians who might be happening to sport a moniker that rhymes with Cheggers and Blow and I will...beyond any shadow of a doubt...as allowed within the Bi-Latteral Index of Good and True Voxians (...or BIG-TV...as we are unwieldily known...)...go absolutely...100%... chicken killa!!!!

Brass, my recently sprouted daffodils??!!!

Where are we? Lichtenstein???

Do I look like I'm from Grimethorpe?

Ye Gods!!, That pink monstrosity!!!! What were they thinking??

Years of therapy....having to live in sheltered accommodation...refusing, as a working graphic designer, to go anywhere near an entire chunk of the printable spectrum...failed inter-species romantic relationships (..bloody scales or wool...always getting caught under my fingernails or matting my socks...)...and for what?

To try and bleach that 'Thing' from deep within my soul...

I'll tell you, if it wasn't for Tantric Dominoes, I'd probably not be as well balanced as I am...

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