A Right Belter....!

I've been drawn to do these meme thingies on WLL, too. While perusing through my blogroll I came across a fantastic twist to it in Wildernesschic's blog http://rujon.blogspot.com/.  And here are the simple rules.

1.  Open the first photo folder you find.
2.  Scroll to the tenth photo.
3.  Tell the story behind it.

I'll not tag anyone in particular here, but keep it in mind or give it a go.  And thank you Wildernesschic, for the resurrection of this old snap. It was in a folder I had planned to make a slideshow of,  for PrettyBoy's 21st  but alas never got round to it in time....it's still on the cards though!

Just a simple one really of my husband, Trevor, posing with our first born son once he got the hang of smiling and projectile puking.  Poor little might must have been affronted with dad's hair here - and learned the art of baby laughter soon after.

Happy Mither's Day....!

I quite like Mother's Days. If only to see if the amount of reminding my sons of this day their father gives them beforehand actually sinks in. It usually does and GingerNut was so prepared he'd bought my card and gone and lost it before today. So I wouldn't miss out, he made a very quick replacement before his band practise. It comprised of thus:

Front cover:     big letters with Happy Mother's Day, a million kisses and a bubble at the bottom saying: "that was tiring"    
                        
Inside left - a poem:       "Although the day's no as special as engaged or getting merried. Keep in mind, your guitar'll be mine, the day yer deed and berried!........only jokin' - love you!
                                     
Inside right - a message:    To Maw, Happy Mother's Day.........fi yer best son Adam...xxx...ps...Ross might have bought ye chocolates, but he widnae sing for ye...!
                                        
What an impromptu card to receive. In pure unadulterated GingerNut style. How will I break the news to him that I want cremating...me and all my oak and pine things alike...?

Shopping a la Weans Style

Two sure-fire things that appalled PrettyBoy in the past? One was a shopping trip with me and the other the mention of breastfeeding. Two things that he pretty much couldn't avoid at certain points in his life. Used to like both if I remember correctly up to certain ages, of course. Now the thought of shopping with his mother (again) has lost it's horrific value and he quite likes the dastardly deed.  GingerNut, on the other hand, has never shown any repulse at being seen out with his mum and quite happily tags along.

Anyhow, me and my two lads decided we'd make a day of it in Stirling. That way it reduces the chances of being seen in our own town and lets us enjoy our day without possible interuption from bumpers. It also gave me the chance to look for other ideas for my best mate's birthday pressie, too. Oh, and a quick liquid refreshment, to boot. GingerNut passes for 18 in pubs these days and staff rarely complain if the pub's quiet and he's with his mum.

After a quick scour round the shops we decided that a certain perfume set for Liz was ideal. Got the green light from the boys (mind you, PrettyBoy would probably have agreed to Fairy and a pair of Marigolds by this time, coz when I comparative shop I do a bloody good job of it!) quite literally.

Liz has always unashamedly liked Westlife. Those cheeky-chopped Irishmen who have stolen the hearts of many a menopausal older woman (I quite fancy one of them but don't tell her!) and now they are in their thirties, and we the sore side of forty, it no longer feels like borderline paedophilia when lusting after 'younger'  boys. But back to the 'present'....we noticed in a 'fume shop window a perfume gift box set endorsed by them. Now, GingerNut would have quite happily gone in the shop and doubled as a Jamacian- Irishman when enquiring about it, so I thought I'd make the purchase a bit more memorable. Ross and I tossed a coin and if he lost he was to go in and buy it and say it was for his boyfriend.  He paused for a bit before the flip but it slapped on his hand against him and in he went and done it!  Even heard him explain that 'Dave' likes the spray scented on their cushions! The assistants obviously didn't believe him one bit and smiley-giggled back at him throughout. But he stuck to his deal.

So shopping trips with the lads are almost as exhilarating as with my daughter. KrazyKek trails me into Anne Summers (I hate the bloody place) for a look every time she's up and you've no idea what questions she asks. Well, you probably have but between that and knocking on the bus window home at red lights to show her recently purchased goods to drivers is a little of what I'll never stay pale-faced over.  But if nothing else, I may just have made a new retail scouring friend in PrettyBoy.  While reminding him that just a few years ago, if a bag I carried hadn't a la-de-da designer or posh-twat logo on it he'd be mortified. He took one of the bags and my pen while in the pub and carried this one home. That's ma boy:

Auld Maud

It will be a year ago tomorrow since my mother-in-law died. I'm already fearing how my husband will cope with it. Right now he seems to be doing okay and I'll try to keep him busy if I can. I'm not reminding the boys until tomorrow evening for despite them being typical lads who'd naturally find solace in their mates and put on a brave front, I prefer them to pass their educational day as usual with nothing else clogging up their mind. They may remember themselves but I'll let them say first if so.

Auld Maud (as my husband used to nickname you) it's been a tough, tough year. I only hope I can manage another one with less pressure. I'm doing my best to take care of the boys but sometimes I miss your moaning and huffing and the way you used to help me nag "Melvin".

No Need For Tears......(but I ended up in them anyhow).

Sadly, NNFI were runners up at last night's final in Glasgow!  Bloody' winning band won with SIX covers, and two originals whereas 'Ma utha Boayz' vice-versa'd that! So if you're a band of males, who sing like girls and cover Girls Aloud, Lady Gaga, and dance songs and the only female judge is an Ibiza DJ and very pretty, then you're in with a shout for next year!
       Anyhow, Ma (original) Boayz (The Valentines) reformed and were the special guests artists while the judges deliberated. THEY ourclassed ALL the bands there! That was the higher mentors' opinion in the dressing room as well as mine, of course!  So The Valentines took  NNFI  under their musical wings and boosted their spirits by sharing the limo on the way home.  The young one's after event perty went ahead (at Dave's house) and I believe Adam copped off with a gorgeous fan! But I went home for a cuppa tea and some TLC from my cat and older son.
       NO NEED FOR IDOLS was the band that gained the most points in stage performance. Oliver is a fabulous front man and considering they only banded in June 09' (and were the youngest band with all at 16) is a huge achievement. They have released 2 demo's, are sought after on a regular basis in Glasgow venue's and there has been some managerial interest in them, particularly with Walk Away! So, it's fair to say that the lads are paying their dues to their fans, which is a key factor to true success. Okay - rant and sour grape gripe over with.....!

I'll post more pictures once I've edited them, so keep calling back! I was very lucky in that Adam had my name down on the guest list for the show. Tickets were sold within 2 HOURS of release and were arranged through St.Mungo's high school on behalf of the band. So, there was a lot of disappointed family and friends on the drummer and the lead guitarist's side as they attend Larbert and Falkirk  high schools. In a certain sense I'm glad it's all over with as these things rarely run smoothly and the sudden return of the snow was shit timing, too! Next focus will be Casino's next round of the Bulge Band Battle (their site's under construction meantime) but details will be

updated on a regular basis. Phew!

A Sneaky Preview

A huge favour from you guys........(here she goes again!).... I have the latest video from Casino that I would like to share with you and get some honest opinions on.

The band was invited to shoot their video in this posh hotel in Dundee as Paul from the band attends university close by. The managing staff were impressed at how well the boys were doing,  (yes, students do have a pint there now and again, via bursery or parental pecuniary aide) and they would be delighted to make the hotel the venue for a future video if they fancied the challenge. A plug for the hotel and an even cheaper video shoot for Casino!! They accepted a few weeks' later.

Set up started at 6.am and filming didn't finish until 10.30pm!  As my son is the drummer, he had a real hard job looking as if  he was hitting the drums PrettyBoy style! Guests were still in bed so he had to tone his stick control down but make it look like the kit was being wellied. The cheeky-faced barman is just one of their mates who accepted the cameo role offer, and this place was happy to let 7 uni students (including film shooter) in a huge function room with fully functioning optics!!  That boosted the ego (as well as the bloodstream) somewhat V.I.P.ish!!

Joking aside, I must add that their official website is undergoing construction and this video won't really be uploaded for official viewing until then, as will new photo's, gigging lists, info,  as well as a brand new song called Lynette. But for you selected few..... here's the latest  CASINO offering. Shadow Company.  As with their other video's - and live shows - they also chuck in that element of fun.. Hope you enjoy it - even if it is only for this one time - but there's a couple more vids from the guys on my sidebar. Would you place a bet on Casino...?

Preparation H

The plans and arrangements for PrettyBoy's 21st birthday (on Valentine's Day!) are coming along. I love how the brain-work and the creativity is left to we women to fathom out! Then again, we really DON'T want the men to interfere too much anyhow, so we can use this kind of thing in future slanging matches! Sadly, we left it too late to find a local venue to have it in, as Valentines Day parties are still a big deal these days. To make matters worse, PrettyBoy's mate Chops (who'll be 21 on the 13th!) has a ruptured appendix and had to cancel his celebration abruptly. 

Anyhow, a last minute limo's booked and a surprise tour is on the cards and while he is out and about with his chosen family and friends, (me and the cheaper half not included ) we're going to gatecrash the charity night for half an hour (Adam is having a half-hour set with The Valentines there), drive him there and we'll all (well, nearly all!)  fill wurselves up with cheap booze and then head for home (me carrying the snare and cymbals on route) while the young ones party on in a nightclub, and I blow some balloons and things for his return then celebrate in my favourite style - under the duvet (alone).

My own little pain-in-the-arse is fast becoming a man.

Quirks, Jerks and Going Berserk

PrettyBoy was in the kitchen tonight with me and watching me intently as I dried my hair. As it's long and thick it takes me a little while for the full-dry effect and I simply bend over and dry it upside down. Wondering what the interest was I asked him if I had nits. And being a smart arse he replied 'probably'  then said for years now near the end of my blasting I count to ten, then switch the hairdryer off.  But that's not all.
                 At the end of a hearty laugh, I always finish with "ahooo".  If there's a horror film on or I'm freaked out I always grab and twist my hair on the right side only. Sometimes, apparently,  I flare my nostrils when engrossed in something. God knows why but I seemingly do. I can't settle either if ornaments aren't the same distance apart and I'm a nut for symmetry. Open windows need to be the same distance apart and I never sleep until I've read a full chapter of my bedtime book - even if it's 50+ pages long. 
                 Something else I do that I'm that aware of is when settling on the settee, I always run my heel up and down the front of my other foot, specially if I'm getting tired. But there are a few deliberate habits I've got. Taking too much out of the cash machine when I'm alone is one, forgetting to bring along my purse when the cheaper-half is with me and another is pretending I'm asleep when I'm not (we've all done it girls, haven't we?). Sometimes, it's the pile of dishes that greet me on my return home that brings out the best in me, something the boys all know that comes naturally. Shouting!! BYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEE!

Another One Bites The Cake

I had a really nice birthday.  I was lavished with lovely gifts and cake from my neighbours Liz and Tam and my family of males made a really nice Mexican meal night for me with Ross doing most of the cooking but Adam's bowl of nacho's were the darts! However,  I just adored the card below my best mate Liz bought me more than anything. It's her down to a tee and I still giggle if I'm out and about and  think of it. I'll be back tomorrow!

You Sad Pathtic Winker!

Tomorrow I turn forty-six. Not that that really scares me for I'll always be a teenager at heart. I'm not typical, serious nor dull just have a tendency to be quiet a lot but when I'm not I'm buzzing. I will buzz tomorrow. My family and I will be watching the whole of this video then as we always do on our birthday. Now it's only 36 seconds long, so I'll be expecting you to watch the whole bloody thing. It's Richie singing Happy Birthday to himself but the look on Eddie's face is priceless.  Tomorrow I turn forty-six!

Video (almost) Killed The Raging Old Ma!

This morning at 6.45 am, the cheaper-half walked in the living room as I was on my knees, backside facing him, in front of the telly. No, Christmas hadn't come that early for him. Mind you, maybe he thought it had, as I had my hand posted deep into the video slot while the power was on.  Anyhow, I was cussing like a 5 year-old (I'm Scottish) and acting like one, too!  Hubby yelled at me for my stupidity - no sympathy for my insomnia though - but he didn't want anything that precious to him to come to any harm.  The video must be at least 8 years old and he really hoped it'd live until it was ten.

Video players these days have lost all their awe and wonderment and are viewed as being a menace of society for silly arses who adopt all the shit babbies personally procreated inside it by YOU, therefore compelling yourself to life long sparse storage space by keeping the little bastards. Unlike human reproduction, there's no chance of you being lumbered with an ugly 'baby' as you know beforehand exactly what'll be popping out of it!

Don't get me wrong, I love the convenience of the DVD and all that and obviously a lot of older stuff can be regenerated onto those lovely, slick discs (that double for handbag mirrors!) and Bobs-your-uncle! But I have over the years, taped so much stuff that will never be available again. Films I've a chance with, but one-off plays, and silly shows and shit that just isn't there any more. So, back to my knee carpet burns,  there I am, hand in the video player, trying like a bastard to get the chewed up tape of one of my favourite films out without much harm.........

*The Phrophecy -1995. Christopher Walken and some fit ginger bloke. Great film about the war in Heaven between Arch Angel Gabriel and Old Lucifer who are more than a bit pissed at God for giving we human's souls and who decide to pop down to visit we mortals (via America of course!) and sort this bloody blip in the old man's judgement out!*

Plug over....., I'm more gutted that my tape's mangled than my hand may shred on it's way out.  But the cheaper-half switched off the power and withdrew my hand gently while tutting like a right shit. Good job, I didn't mention that the various dental tools on the mantle-piece (courtesy of my daughter's surgery) weren't for the impromptu after-breakfast check up I was planning but had been stabbed in the innards of the machine just in case that helped! Alas, like Gabriel, my war was over too (only I got to keep my eyes). I had to accept that the machine was now declared officially dead. This had happened one time too many.

I know he was old and embarrassing.  PrettyBoy used to chuck a towel over the silver, chunky fellow ( the video, not his dad)  when his mates were in, but I'll miss that solid THUD when the tape eventually rewound. And I know you can replace him these days for like,.. £2.99 or something now but insomnia will never be the same without him as I drag hundreds of telly recorded black cheap tapes from the unit to find the fitting one.

Christmas Cheer & Tents and Beer!

This month has been a really busy one, what with the invites to elite music parties and showbiz dances. Well, trying to get my daughter's jumper knitted in time for her birthday on Hogmanay mainly but at least she REALLY gets celeb invites to parties! It'll be the first New Year that Kerri and James won't be making it up to Scotland for so I'm a bit sad at that. I do have my sons' gig's on the 27th and 2nd Jan to help me through.

Casino, with Val Verde, are playing at King Tuts in Glasgow. This is their main venue they've nabbed and the most sought after stage for unsigned bands in Scotland as promoters often select some for the Tuts' local talent tents at T in The Park. Sadly, No Need For Idols are too young at 15 & 16 for appearance there as the plan was to get them to support Casino! Anyhow - I promised a few links (and a few phone numbers!) for a few of my (younger) facebook mates who read this guff! Have a wonderful Xmas everyone.....I'm off to blow up a palm tree...........!

Bottom's Up - Every December 24th.....!

For around 15 years now, our family has kept to a strict ritual.  Every Christmas Eve we must watch a certain Christmas video and usually all together as a family.  If circumstance parts us (only once so far!) we must seek refuge and watch the video somehow, anyhow. This is our family tradition.

Since the 80's I have adored comedian's Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson.  British readers will no doubt know who I'm banging on about. But it's their 90's sitcom Bottom  where they partake as two 30-something society misfits that I've enjoyed the most. We made a pact all those years ago to watch the Holy episode every Xmas Eve come what may.  It then spread out to every birthday and at Halloween, too, as these topics are covered in their series'. So I'll leave with just a couple of minutes' worth of the lads in their seasonal episode. And trust me - we know every word. Merry Christmas everyone.

Ma Other Boayz....Here We Go....(again!)

I sit here with a busting heart and bags under my bloodshot eyes and I've never felt better! Last night Adam's band No Need For Idols won it's place in the Rock The Talk, senior high schools' Battle Of The Bands project final to be held in Glasgow's own Barrowlands venue on Feb 24th next year.

The boys were amazing. Oliver (or 'Clothes Off' as I nickname him!) and Adam have been best friends since primary school and to watch them perform as handsome young men in an extremely talented band was one of the biggest high's I've had.

Three mums of the group members showed up. Standing on seats, elbowing teenagers aside and jumping along with the teens' fans as the band delivered was nothing new to me but we group hugged and jumped at the verdict and as we did, Callum's (bass guitar) mum and I were exchanging 'please to meet you's'. It  beat a handshake, that's for sure! She also invited all we mum's us to her house after Xmas to get to know each other better, to cement our friendship before the finals!

And to fuel my high even more the organisers asked my older son, whose previous band The Valentines, won the BOTB competition 3 years ago, if the boys would reform again for a one off show at the end of the final. Despite the lads moving on to other pastures, it seemed they left a lasting effect with those involved in the project.

I'll leave a few of my shitty fujifilm pictures until the website uploads the bands' acts. Who needs idols? We do!

Happy 16th Adam!

My baby turns 16 on Monday, St.Andrew's Day, and I can hardly believe he's reached his first milestone.  His birth was a memorable experience in such as he was born with black eyes and a little facial bruising.  No. Neither me, his dad or our midwife dropped him, but I felt like strangling the nurse who at 7am, told me I wouldn't be giving birth until that afternoon.

At 7.30am, (and fully dilated) amongst a desperate flurry , he arrived. Because the birth was so quick (and unstoppable) he ended up with facial and body compression. It did, strangely, bring out the colour of his hair making it even more lustrous. Maternity nick-named him The Golden Child. The other babies in the ward at the time were little bundles of pink skin and dark mops or peachy with bald heads, so his thick, golden hair ( and a pummelled face) was something that didn't come along too often. And still he continues to be golden.

My baby has grown up now, following in the footsteps of his older brother. A bright, confident and cheeky chap who the girls all adore.  Lots of friends and the most chicken hearted, caring teen, who STILL volunteers to go shopping with his mum and doesn't give a hoot about bumping into pals. Whose  kisses are free and planted often as the limbs wrap around you. He's a brilliant drama student and plays drums in his band No Need For Idols and he mollycoddles the cat far too much.

His 'natural' talent is comedy. Over the years, it's Adam who has made me laugh the most. If I was to clarify his one main factor, that would be it.  Where the madcap ideas, impulsiveness and confidence comes from I've no idea. But I know they'll remain with him for life. He'll never become a boring old fart like his dad.

Here's a few pics. One from when he was a baby. And the other two from what he does best these days. His hair was dyed black and grown long in his band snap and the other doing his solo scene from his school musical.

Mauritius and Kisses

I can't blame the season. I love the bloody winter. But I've been feeling a little low since I was here last. Something that comes and goes in spells but not that often. I think it's just the run up to Christmas knowing that my usual rushed efforts won't be including a card and pressie for my mum-in-law who passed away in March. It just struck me that my kids don't have any grandparents at all now and that my crossed fingers don't seem to be doing much via my daughter and her attempts to make me one! She's on fertility treatment as she has polycystic ovaries, making the natural job a bit harder. Mind you, I can just picture the little 'un in a few years with his/her Prodigy tee-shirt on giving it laldy with mum in the sitting room to her CD's and him/her being fascinated by the tongue stud she'll keep popping in and out her mouth...(doesn't beat when grampa used to take out his false teeth out in front of you, Kek. You tried so hard to do the same!). So, I'm picking myself up and shaking off the blues. I'm so impatient. That's my real problem.

I know when the kids notice I'm down. Especially Ross. It's the only time he ever makes me a cup of tea with an added kiss. But he bucked me up. Even had me laughing when he told me he was about to woo his latest date with a Pot Noodle and Saw V. She giggled all the while she was in.

But my best ever pick-me-up is going through old photographs - and trust me I have thousands. It was when I came across this one that gave me the biggest smile. I can remember the first time Ross met his auntie Maryse he was amazed at how little she was. Only 4ft 10 inches in height.

  His first question to her was: "Why are you too wee...?"

  And her answer back was: "Why are you too handsome...?"

 He shrugged. She shrugged. And that was that. But Ross said he'd try and just grow to her height (he was only about six inches away from that back then!) which I suppose was his way of accepting life.

Unfortunately, he didn't manage that. This pic from after my mum-in-law's funeral really tells the story. It was only the second time the boys had met their auntie and they adored her sweet Mauritian accent and her wacky stories. So I guess I've not really got a lot to feel down about. Not with a family as rich (in unity) as mine when times need.

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

As you know it is remembrance day today. The end of WWI. Although you fought in WWII, you never let a year pass without reminding us all of the Poppy Appeal.  How you, and your brave compatriots fought for our country and future. It used to bore some family members, you know, banging on about the war, blah, blah, blah. But I was fascinated at some of the life stories you told. At times I found it hard to believe it was real, but as I grew it all came about before my eyes in books, documentaries and films. Devastating. Horrifying. It never left you. Especially your POW years.

Remember, Dad, when Ross had his Primary 7, WW2 project to do and he won a book token for the best one? It included the drawing he made of the dragon tattoo you had inked on your forearm while in France. And that wonderful interview he had with you about bombs and bombing?  Then the way you recited off your army name and number effortlessly, as if it was fresh off the tongue!! You also learned him a few 'choice' words in German! I think 'Schwein-Hund'  was the mildest one! Those didn't go in the project folder but among his bibliography source reference page, he'd included in huge letters: MY GRAMPA.

I still and will always remind the boys that you were the only one of 5 friends to return home to your little village after the war. Right to your dying day this still hurt you as you felt so guilty meeting the families of your dead friends once Hitler was put in his place. God spared you though, Dad. And I'll be eternally grateful for that, because you were a gem of a man. The most patient, funny, selfless man I knew. Heaven knows how you put up with Mam all those years - but you believed in unity no matter how bad things got.

My very fondest memories of you was when we watched Danny Kaye films together. We knew every song from Hans Christian Anderson and the one we loved best was 'Inchworm'. Your wee twin girls, Ellie and Migi, as we were nicknamed by you, would sing the 'sums' bit in the background while you sang the lyrics. Your voice had a beautiful tone to it. Of course and ironically, you're favourite song from a musical was supposedly Hitler's favourite, too. Edelweiss.  I still can't listen to that without crying. Anybody's version. Daft old sop that I am!

As I grew I loved you best after you'd had a few nips. Your quick wit and patter after a swally was so enchanting and you were a bit of an auld rascal- weren't you? Remember when Migi visited from London with her snooty husband, when her kids and mine were small? How you sighed through every karaoke song until the whisky kicked in and then you took the mic away and got my little ones to sing Irvin Berlin's 'At The Devil's Ball......?' Remember how mortified he was when you changed some of the words? Of course the kiddies didn't have a clue what it all meant but the rest of us got a laugh at it! That was ma Dad.....

Then there was the last ever Christmas you spent with us! Remember that nosy neighbour of mine who just wouldn't bugger off with her son on Xmas Eve? Yapping and yapping. You were getting fed up listening to her 'drivel' and when she mentioned her dad had just had  hip-replacement surgery you asked her loudly....."So whose hip did he get?" And Trevor struggled to keep his laugh in? She left soon after that. You old scamp!.... And don't worry Dad - we'll each keep pouring you a mini-whisky every New Year on your resting place - even if it does kill the grass! I smile at the vision of all those empty miniature Bells bottles that the green-keeper has to tidy away each New Year and Father's Days. I could carry on forever here but sadly, I can't.

Dad you were the best of old buddies. I can remember how you'd bend down, creaking your old bones to tie a kid's shoe lace in case they tripped. You were forever checking the boys. And your parting words every time we left the house was "mind the roads". Since I was a nipper.

The biggest regret in my life was that you never got the chance to see my boys play in their bands. Dad, you were a musical genius. Remember when you learned me to play The Blue Danube with you on the piano? Well, I can still do that - but it doesn't sound the same without you on the chords! You could play any instrument by ear and always encouraged the boys to do the same - lift it and give it a try. Of course, they weren't as gifted as you, but boy did they learn fast! They had rhythm all right!  It was in their blood, their Grampa's blood. Thank you so much, Dad.

I'm saying goodbye with a picture of you with your army friends. Ted, Willie and Jim. How that guitar suits you! You guys really cheered the troops up! And this has been a remembrance day for me, too. But it's dedicated to only one hero.

Love,
Ellie
x

A Bet On Lynette

Bigging them up again! I can't help it. My son's band Casino have just recorded their latest offering called Lynette. It's a wonderful little tune, with wonderful, uncomplicated words. It's even more special (as with most of their songs) because it is based on true life.

The song is about a girl that my son, Ross, fancied from afar. As a teenager still at high school he used to hang around a shop called Fratz that was situated next to a local park, with his mates. He was euphoric when Lynette became a member of the group and basically it's about his gentle pursuit of her - in which he was eventually successful and now wonders what happened to her. And because of the lyrics, I now know that he puffed away in his latter years of high school and had the odd alcopop! But after hearing the song, I think I'll give a belated rollocking a miss. If he'd never met Lynette and her bad habits, then this song might never have come about. Older ones like my old self can even relate to it and it did take me back to my own teenage days - less the fags and booze - and daft schoolgirl crushes. My favourite lines are in the bridge lead up to the chorus that goes as such:

'Oh, Lynette, don't forget, leave me two's on your cigarette.'
Get it on, won't be long, till we kiss like we had never met.'

On November 26th in Behind The Wall in Falkirk, the band are having their first EP launch party, on which Lynette will be included. The song will be up on their website next Wednesday/Thursday after it's been mastered (bloody perfectionists!) and I gaurantee you'll be hooked after a couple of listens. The guys will also be filming their first script video (to Shadow Company) where a certain amount of acting, (with a director) will be taking place. As far as I've fished it's setting is in a hotel after/during a function and Ross will be sitting at the bar with a whisky and a black eye, while Telfer (frontman) walks in with his shirt half hanging out his suit and his tie all squint like he's been in a fight, too, in the opening scene. That's all the little bastards will tell me! The song is actually about a prossie, so I'll be curious to see if that's included. For a young band that's only been together a year, I'd say they're well paying their dues to their fans.