Thursday, July 26, 2007

Trizers

I don’t know about you - but I could do with a laugh.

The last time I had one of those chortles that makes you cry and hurt all over was when they locked up Jeffrey Archer in 2001.

'The drugs don't work ... no more.'


Even the title on this magazine could only raise a titter.


I want to be convulsed with paroxysms of uncontrollable hilarity. I want to snort, guffaw and giggle like a teenage girl.

Robert Plant said it for me in the live version of ‘Stairway to Heaven‘ .

‘Does Anybody Remember laughter??’

Here’s the link - from Song Remains the Same. It’s over 11 minutes long so even I hadn’t time to watch it. The relevant bit is at around 4min 15secs - so you can slide the little slider along.


But the real laugh is imagining what Robert stuck down his trousers.

KAZ

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18 Comments:

Blogger stitchwort said...

A mole wrench?

(But do moles actually need wrenching?)

11:00 am  
Blogger Old Wom Tigley said...

I love good laugh and I'm blessed with a weird sense of humour which just seems to attract fun. The trouble with that is when I feel down, its right down. But like Zeberdee I soon spring back up Kaz

Keep smiling

12:13 pm  
Blogger Betty said...

You could do with a laugh? The drugs don't work any more?

Erm ... you haven't been listening to that Scott Walker CD you bought from Asda have you? It wasn't Tilt by any chance was it?

Dear god, no wonder ... you may as well watch an Ingmar Bergman triple bill and wallow in misery. There's no turning back now.

Something else to blame Geoff for.

1:46 pm  
Blogger Murph said...

Everybody is miserable at the moment … I blame the weather myself although we lab crosses are somewhat impervious to ups and downs.

The only thing I remember being shoved down Robert Plant’s trizers was Valerie Singleton, but the whole thing was hushed up and never stood up in court.

Mr P. bought that Scott Walker album but hadn’t noticed the “l” in the title so took it back. He was more cheerful singing “The Sun ain’t Gonna shine any More”.

2:14 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Stitch:
And then there's the monkey wrench.
It doesn't make much sense at all - unless they were invented by Mr Mole and Mr Monkey.

Wom:
Don't worry I will.
Zeb's my middle name.

Betty:
I went for the compilation ... Tilt probably costs more than £3.
I'm just not used to all those violins.
Did you ever see 'Interiors' which was Woody Allen's tribute to Ingmar?

I love that film - it makes me feel so miserably normal.

Murph:
Mr P was obviously confusing it with the Mikado.
“The Sun ain’t Gonna shine any More”. That Scot was a prophet.

3:09 pm  
Blogger Arabella said...

It was a pea (prounounced "pay") fritter. He had them flown in from Cradley Heath.

4:08 pm  
Blogger Geoff said...

Sure it's not a battered sausage and a couple of pickled eggs?

I've heard all about faggits & pays!

6:44 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Arabella:
From 'Cray'dley Heath? Good to know Robert's in touch with his roots.
Sure it's not a pay shooter.

Geoff:
Yam knows yon Black country Fittle

8:03 pm  
Blogger I, like the view said...

dunnno about laughter, but I smiled broadly last night when a bunch of girls walked past in hot pants with bibs. . .

romper suits Cannes style - in shiny satin!!

if only I'd taken your advice, I'd have fitted in perfectly (to the French sense of style, probably not the hot pants)

;-)

(oh, and my guess is that he has a couple of croissant shoved down his crotch)(imagine the crumbs)

8:47 am  
Blogger Roses said...

Did Taylor Mali leave you cold? Not even a twitch of the lips for I wanna be like Osama?

I'm losing my touch. Damn.

9:45 am  
Blogger KAZ said...

View:
I'm sure you look like Juiette Binoche, Vanessa Paradis and Audrey Tatou all at once.

Crumbs? That explans the hip gyrations.

Roses:
There are days when I'd like to wear a costume like his dancers. No need for slap, gel, wax or colour coordination.

Oh and think of the faces you could pull at line managers and stroppy shop assistants.

10:52 am  
Blogger Arabella said...

I can remember when I laughed so much it hurt and there was no alcohol involved: on the # 125 bus from Dudley to Birmingham, 1973. 'Course none of the other girls were talking to me a week later.

3:09 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Arabella:
Ah - that's the sort of laughing I'm thinking of.
No control and so funny it still makes you laugh when you think about it years later.

8:59 pm  
Blogger Midnight said...

It's a good job Rob doesn't wander around Baghdad, the Yanks would be filling him full of le(a)d for carrying a concealed weapon.

8:40 pm  
Blogger garfer said...

Jimmy Page attended court in Glasgow yesterday. His hair's gone white and he looks like he's eaten all the pies.

Squeeze my lemon till the juice runs down my thigh.

Poetry innit?

9:04 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Midnight:
Ouch!!
I'm beginning to feel sorry for him as he used to be my love object.

Haven't they heard of le(a)d free?

Hi Garfer:
Oh dear - I just took a look at the picture.

If I were him, I'd stop at home and squeeze my lemon in private.

9:27 pm  
Blogger Flaming Nora said...

I work with a man who is SO posh he does actually say "trizers".

1:01 pm  
Blogger KAZ said...

Nora:
It's not Charlie Windsor (Alma's old flame) by any chance?

11:16 pm  

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