Oh, The Irony.
So this morning I'm trudging down through Soho, unsuitably dressed as usual, in the drizzly wet and cold, when I put George Harrison's All Things Must Pass on the shuffle.
But can I hear it? Can I fuck, because some Hare Krishnas come out of a doorway in front of me and start crashing on drums and cymbals and generally making a right racket - I mean, I don't know what they've got to look so bloody pleased about.
But can I hear it? Can I fuck, because some Hare Krishnas come out of a doorway in front of me and start crashing on drums and cymbals and generally making a right racket - I mean, I don't know what they've got to look so bloody pleased about.
posted by Wyndham at 1:38 PM
9 Comments:
That's always happening to me, that irony thing. The other day I had to stop while a cess-pit emptying lorry reversed noisily out of a drive and drowned the single by Lily Allen I was playing.
Did they have finger cymbals though? I always wanted some that I could jingle at people who were annoying me.
Socks with the sandals? Just curious.
Are you shamelessly conducting a little Endemol-type experiment on us Wynders, to see whether we respond to your religionist bait and get the ratings up for your blog?
Got to have socks with scandals in this weather.
Oops, sandals I meant...
Ah, a Wydhamesque milk of human kindness moment.
You should have slapped them about the head with a wet kipper. Being pacifists, they wouldn't have retaliated.
Well, you know, it's within you and without you, like.
all hare krishnas will pass - eventually.
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