Mr. Nanas, what did he want to dissolve?

SafeT, but think of the consequences, man! There would then be a whole new generation of people who WILL, as night follows day, embarrass themselves at celebratory events in their futures when the liquor is flowing and the guard is down. They too will be mocked; they too, in the painful cyclical way these things continue, will try and “teach some hoons a lesson”. And the pain and shame will continue through the generations…
When will the hurtin’ end?

Sam:It could be worse, they could be forced to listen to “smooth” Jazz. Nothing quite so aurally emasculating as Spyro Gyra or Kenny G.
If I were one of those kids I’d memorize the lyrics and start singing them at the top of my lungs. If they all did it, I bet they’d cut the stupid crap out.

Emma, I didn’t know about the nose but, thinking on it now, it looks obvious. Wih Tom I’ve only noticed his increasingly orange skin. He looks like he’s wandering around in his own little sepia-toned photograph.

Joe, I heard that Spamalot is going to your neck of the woods too. Is it true? If I were to meet an actual showgirl and she wasn’t called Lola, I think it might be a bit disappointing.

Luke, my own twirly Barry bit of DNA is also deeply located. It surfaces, usually about once every five years though, usually in embarrasing circumstances at weddings etc. where I say foolish things to my friends (who will never let me forget) like “Oh, it’s Copacabana! Lets dance, everybody!”

Rob, I’d save Rolf Harris for the Big House. Not in solitary though – could lead to bother with the Human Rights people.

Claire, I’ll not hear a word against Cliff. I had a huge crush on him in Summer Holiday when I was still in my single digits. For deterring teen pregnancies, I think a bit of Terry Wogan’s “All Together In The Floral Dance” would do it. Or even better, Gazza’s “Fog On The Tyne Is All Mine, All Mine”.

Randall, consider yourself lucky. I’m usually forced to grit my teeth through “Oh Where Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone” on an endless loop with other squeaky children’s songs. But what can I do? The hubby loves ‘em.

Hey Joel! Your’re right. It will end in violence. These Australian so-called authorities are taking a bunch of no doubt mild-mannered teens and radicalizing them with their piped Manilow. A long term study of the effects of Manilow is needed. In a lab, for safety.

Oy vey.

Cheers