Dear Maudlin Noshery Sad Cafe

Re: My Oh My

I feel your pain miserable chophouse Sad Cafe, and even suspect that we may have been at the same house party after an All Star 11 at Alderman Rogers Park in 1979. I too ended up sick of laying up in bed (you know) for three days or more to ease my head, and upon waking on the first morning was alarmed to find that in my unconscious state a (still) unknown assailant had covered my face entirely in Mary Quant Cheek Stick and adhesed two spent Party Poppy cartridges to either temple with Gloy Gum.

It was a ‘’just a question of time’’, depressed canteen Sad Cafe but unlike your good selves I was not aware of my diabolical visage until long after quizzical looks at the chemist where I dropped into for a tin of Andrew’s on the way home

One is therefore most empathetic that you looked in the mirror, and saw the Devil; he was looking at you, fortunately prior to such a shameful pharmaceutical excursion, run down hashery Sad Cafe

One can only pray that the clandestine makeshift Mephistopheles facial grafitti artist was apprehended, Sirs, or at the very least placed on a retainer by Gene Simmon.

‘’Don't criticise'', Sad Cafe. This is actually very good news; ''I know you can take it'', and hope that you now see that there is no further need to ''cry oh cry''


Derek (and Dave) Philpott


Heyup Pisspotts (sorry) Philpotts


You have me/us stumped on this one. I can only admit that this song was made up on the spur of the moment (Really? hahah noooooo!!!)


'Twas originally penned as "Space Gypsies MyOhMy" (One in the bollox and one in the eye) as certain members of the outfit fancied themselves as tinkers.


An actual fact on this was it was played on a radio pop panel programme on release and one of the guests namely Angus the schoolboy from ACDC actually thought it was the Stones quoting that's the best record they've ever made. True story.


I cant begin to assess the meaning of the lyrics nor would I attempt to, but looking in the mirror and seeing the devil looking back was prob an assessment of how much white lining had gone on the evening before (Boy was I wasted). Hey but don''t criticise you know I can take it!


The cohesiveness of the lyrics suggest enrolment in to the Lyric Poetry Master Awards alongside Lewis Carrolls Jabberwocky, or Lear's The Owl and the Pussycat etc etc but this never happened due to record company executive malfunction (Suuuurpriiiiise!!!)


Talking of which, this rambling nonsense was released as a follow up to a ballad which sold half a million units. I rest my case yer honour as the obvious follow up was another slowie n'est ce pas? Alas what do us mere strolling players know of such things.


I'm going back to bed to ease my head, and the tv will be on by my side, I always knew

that I would!



Space Gypsy signing out





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