"This month found Minister Drill-cock! engrossed in another of his little projects, attempting to join the two great Japanese entertainment forms into one by having young women performing lyrically twisted versions of pop-standards while being doused in wad after wad of sticky man-gunk. ‘At first I was afraid, I was petrified,’ they'd sing, ‘I thought I was going blind from cum in my eyes’.

But what artistes to approach for this Bukaraoke?"

Was originally written for the new issue of Careless Talk Costs Lives, but dropped for space reasons, presumably. It's difficult to tell with CTCL sometimes. No loss, as I tossed it out to the fellows at Bleed. I just wanted to publish that Bukaraoke gag somewhere. I'm like Oscar Wilde, me.

(Reference to one of the major reasons he wrote The Portrait of Dorian Grey was to get a huge chunk of his epigrams in print so people would know who lazier wags were stealing them from, culture fans)

Anyway - since it's in the shops, do go buy a copy. Reviews of Black Box Recorder, Alan Moore/Tim Perkins and the new Steve Malkamus album in my normal voice, and a take on Ministry from the Minister.

or

Available in all good news agents (except Smiths) and a fair share of really fucking shitty ones too.

I've also, after some tut-tutting from various parties and hysterical cackling glee from others after I posted a conversation over at Grammarporn, decided I'm going to have to drop Craig and e-mail to tell him the scientific facts about cock size.

Why he can't just google up these things is beyond me, however.