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Like many others, I was deeply upset when I heard the news about One Direction today. In my shock & anguish I ended up clenching my fists so hard that my fingernails drew blood from my palms when it was announced that their break up wasn't permanent. Well why on earth isn't it? What possible reason have
these people got to keep inflicting themselves on us? Something must be done, I thought. In fact, I've decided, that I'm going to be the one to do the something that must be done.
And so I announce the formation of my own boy band, whose purpose is to fill the Boy Band vacuum right now; at this very moment. Before Simon Cowell has a chance to put together some other vacuous ensemble.
What I need is five good looking young chaps, with reasonable singing voices, who can dance a bit & who aren't afraid to take their shirt off & croon in front of an audience of simpering, teenage girls (well actually, due to a lack of funds, you will probably be performing in front of drunken, middle-aged blokes at pub open-mike nights initially). The tunes will be upbeat, melodic, poppy little numbers & the lyrics, which you will sing whilst maintaining the most sugary-sweet smile you can manage, will all be about death, war, disease, famine & any other apocalyptic horsemen that I can think up; debt & corruption (especially of the FIFA type) will probably be high on the list of candidates.
So come on & follow after me in a whole new musical direction. The Wrong Direction!
And yes, I know that Boy Bands have already been invented & so has subversive lyrics in pop songs but I'm not sure that these two particular musical genres have been thrown together in quite the brutal manner I am hoping for. Although there is probably some Boy Band aficionado out there who is now going to shoot me down in flames on this...yes, you! The plain girl at the back who is trying to avoid eye contact by staring down at her shoes. I'm talking about you!
The Wrong Trousers
https://www.youtube...watch?v=F532dgMFqY8
Mystery, Horror, and Suspense! [RayfordSteele, Aug 25 2015]
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I too was deeply disturbed by the news about One
Direction. Uh - what was the news? |
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Don't pretend you don't know, Max. We all know about the posters of Robbie & Gary that adorn your bedroom walls. |
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Yes, and what of it? Robert ("Robbie", as we knew
him) Spant was one of the finest phylogenetic
gastronomers in the world. Although we had a
falling out due to the Pyrenean Ibex episode (after
all, only one person can eat the last member of a
species), I still count him as a hero. |
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And as for Gary, you must surely know that she was
single-handedly (since the accident) responsible
for the re-introduction of plus fours for olympic
curling. And you know I could never resist a
properly-filled plus four. |
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Well imagine that. Here I get home from a long night of
work, and what to my wondering eyes doth appear, but the
worst news of my life. I'm shocked, saddened and oh so
devastated. Okay then, goodnight to you. |
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Several years ago, while repairing a mobile phone, we noted a folder called "1direction" taking up a lot of memory. We did not query this as we assumed (sadly, incorrectly) that it was a navigation app. |
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It was only earlier this year that we were informed,to our disappointment and disgust that this was incorrect. |
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There are some key details missing from this idea, which I know in my hear that DrBob has already thought of, but for some reason he is being coy. I am not so coy, no. The Wrong Direction is a boy band made up of bizarrely clay-faced but nevertheless conventionally attractive northern young chaps who can, as has been noted, sing a bit, dance a bit and are willing to go taps aff at the drop of a knicker. So far, so conventional. The thing that makes The Wrong Direction The Wrong Direction is their trousers: yes, each Wrong Directioner sports trousers large and British racing green from waist to gusset, blooming out round skinny white hips before meeting the flexible industrial corrugated rubber legs from which appear slim brass ankles impaling riveted green metal shoes. In this get up, The Wrong Direction members cavort on stage, in shopping centres, at private parties thrown for the gangly & resentful adolescent heirs of pre-eminent capitalists, this cavorting not the typical arms round shoulders, just back from gap yah, hormonal lads high on youth, grazing the atmosphere of planet gay, wondering whether to crash down to the surface, no, this cavorting is strange: herky-jerky, the trousers making leg movements seem somehow robotic, upper bodies flailing back and forth as the legs take the lads up the stage rigging, the clang of magnetic soles spanging contrapuntal to bassline and wh-who is that in the shadows, holding a remote control, sporting high-waisted slacks and a red rubber cockscomb? |
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They should be dressed as a geeky type of Village People.
Well, okay, a more geeky type of Village People. I'm thinking
sad basement-dwelling Warcraft junkies in their late 20's,
some random assemblage of stoners picked up at the latest
ComiCon, with the 'Chocolate Rain' guy for a lead. |
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Ah calum! One anno from you & somehow all of my enthusiasm for this project has just drained away down a vast plug-hole of despond. The Wrong Direction in The Wrong Trousers? Absolutely not! It's smart suits, smooth moves & blindingly gleamy teeth for my boys or I'm not playing & I'm taking all my toys home with me to boot!
Rayford is clearly thinking of something more akin to Ben Frost's 'Mumble-Shits', see top right corner for further entertainment. |
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//One anno from you & somehow all of my enthusiasm for this project has just drained away down a vast plug-hole of despond//
am going to use this as part of my Linkedin profile |
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It was my Simon Cowell in claymation penguin cosplay
fetish. Here, let me send you a link to my tumblr. |
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