The MacDonald Brothers

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse than Take That reforming, there’s news that the MacDonald Brothers have landed a double album deal. For those of you who don’t live with Romanian songbirds who insist on watching the X Factor each week, the MacDonald Brothers are singers in the tradition of The Proclaimers but without the spectacles, social commentary, melodies, sweaters, or even a hit record. What they lack in talent that make up for with kilts, so there’s no need to worry. They have plenty of kilts.

Call The Chipster a cynical old Welshman but I’ll not be linking to them sometime soon. The war against this form of terrorism has to start somewhere and I say it starts at my thong and ends with cruise missile strikes on Aberdeen or wherever else they come from. It is only a heightened sense of professionalism that stops me plunging a rusty knife into my genitals whenever I hear them begin to sing in close harmony.

And, of couse, Gabby says ‘men in dresses gorgeous you think’.

Well, I don’t think. The only way they possess the X factor is if the ‘X’ is found written on the label of a large bottle with a child-safe cap found beneath the kitchen sink. And safety cap or no safety cap, if that CD comes into this house I’ll be bleach my insides before I put my head in the microwave.

I don’t tell her this, of course. She dyed my hair pink because of something I said about Take That. My insulting The MacDonald Brothers might involve some rare form of Romanian torture.

Such as, in fact, listening to The MacDonald Brothers…

Take That 'Take That'

It’s a brief update tonight. If anybody asks, the jet lag finally caught up with me today and I slept away the good part of 24 hours. But before you say anything, I know there’s not much chance that anybody will ask you about my whereabouts but I’m just covering all possibilities. You see, Gabby’s been dropping bit hints all morning that I should buy tickets for the ‘Take That’ tour.

I only ask that you pity The Chipster. I’d rather have my manhood nailed to Dame Tanni Grey-Thompson’s wheelchair before pushing her down a sharp incline for the sake of Sports Relief than stay even a minute in the same auditorium as Take That. Only Gabby doesn’t seem to understand my feelings, which accounts for my keeping my head down and not leaving the bedroom.

Now it’s three o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep. But at least I’m not pestered to listen to another track from ‘Beautiful World’.