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Monday, 5 October 2015

Day 1485 - Chairman Moz - Our Mozzer Returns to Twitter

Our Mozzer made an unexpected return to Twitter last night at 10.19pm (very shortly after Morrissey's Lausanne concert had finished) under the new guise of BRSChairman, with Lypsinka as his profile picture.


This obviously means that poor Loughton Lil has lost the position that he was elected to in June 2014 at the BRS AGM; although to be honest, Lil has been a shit Chairman, and has never been anywhere near a blue rose! Actually, Chuck may have become Chairman of the BRS back in August, when I suggested that she take over the running of the BRS. Either way, Our Mozzer has now taken over, so it is irrelevant. Here are his first offerings from yesterday:

Reviews of Dorian Gray assassinate the character of Wilde. Reviews of List of the Lost assassinate the character of Morrissey. #artisart

 List of the Lost is a work of unbearable genius. Genius is rarely understood at the time. List of the Lost is for future generations.

 Of course if Cheryl Ferrari-Kitchensink had released List of the Lost then it would receive universal acclaim. Such is life.

 However Cheryl Arseache-Milktooth only knows three words and one of them is just a rumour. @CherylOfficial

 I have the vocabulary of a young Oscar Wilde whereas Cheryl?

 Cheryl can no longer spell her own last name. Cole was so easy. Divorce doesn't seem so smart now.

 Please spare a thought for poor Cheryl who can't comprehend her new cooker instructions

 She can't understand worry either unless £10 has gone missing from her bank account.

 Cheryl only opens her mouth to count her teeth. 



Driving is the one true freedom left. To leave one place and arrive in another not known must be a fantastic feeling.

 So all ends have new starts. Art remains Art despite the uncultured and their attempts to dismantle it. Music remains the soother of souls.

 Six followers in under a hour. Will I have 100 by the end of the week? That's how many REAL people bought Dread Sheeran's album.

 For Sale - One 'Royal' Family. Last useful in 10BC. Incest and racism come as standard.

 Prince Charles has hired help to remind him to breathe. If only I applied for that job..

 The next generation will hopefully see through the media and those that control it and will seek the truth, no matter how ugly.

 Retirement will bring me time to pursue my passions. Apparently my passion is Twitter. Where did my stamp collection go?

The tweeting session ended with the new BRS Chairman having 12 followers.

OM returned again to Twitter today at 1.30pm and left at 4.30. Here are the highlights:

 Life has a horrible way of repeating itself. Tour, depression, tour.

 The Germans lack humour, the British lack seriousness. The French lack nothing except self-awareness.

 It's no fun playing scrabble on your own you know. Each victory tastes like defeat.

 My next album with be a Frank Sinatra cover album in the form of Rap. Don't believe me? Well that's hardly my problem.

 The grass is greyer on the other side.

 A good reputation is as useful as a bad one. Create havoc wherever you step.

 People grow old and we are supposed to feel sad. Age does not mean empathy. I'm 56 but a child I remain.

 Alas they have no clue who I am. The Smiths? Didn't they release one album and then fade away?

 ME: Fade away? Joyce & Rouke have had a fantastic last 25 years... talking about the Smiths!
OM: and taking to court the other ex-Smiths. Joyce has a garage big enough for two cars. #Youarewelcome




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JOYCE - DOUBLE GARAGE OWNER 

Thatcher had no sexuality. Blair had no clue. I mix both. I have no clue about sexuality.

 David Cameron looks like the wax of a cheap candle smeared over a rock.

Pop stars are meant to be original and yet they all sound the same and have the same opinions. Factory made.

 I open the drinks cabinet and forget my own existence.

 Has anyone checked if Richard and Judy are still alive? I'd love to outlive those boring alcoholics. At least I'm an interesting drunk.

 The great problem of socialism is that it thinks people want to be equal. Some people just want to be different.

 There is a lot of spare time these days to tend to my allotment. Those parsnips refuse to grow on their own.


No time for anything else today. More tomorrow, including a look at Hilaire Belloc and his novel, The Four Men.

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