Living with Roland

Hello,UB40,Yeah you are crap though arent ya.Yeah.

Oi Oi grave robbers.Dave Deacon here,what's the tax on a packet of Blackjacks these days? Tell me that and stay fashionable you charmless ladyboys.Enough of the chit chat let's get down on it like a kinky spider in a Nancy Sinatra boutique.
UB40 once infamously sang(well I say "infamouly sang",what I mean is gargled a four minute piece of shit but manners prevent me)There's a rat in ma kitchen what am I gonna do? I have no information on what they actually did about their pest control problem but it probably involved playing it some of their pale watered down reggae stylings until its rodent brain dribbled out of its ears rather than suffer another chorus of Red red bleedin wine,but I'll tell you what I did when Moley and Mr Toads best mate came round to my gaffe.Firstly I didnt want to tie up the furry little rascal,that to me seemed a tad cruel but on the other hand I didnt want it running off and pissing in the breadbin again so I cut its feet off. The look of shock,pain and vulnerability that swept across its small soft features was too much for me to bear looking at,so I cut its head off and nailed it to the front door as a warning to other vermin in the area. This then created the double whammy of keeping away rats,mice and npower reps but also the milkman who thinks I'm some sort of nutter. Now my coco pops are choking for a drop of semi skimmed cow squeezings but I'm having to milk surprised houseflies just to soften em up a bit(the coco pops not the houseflies,theyre just glad of the attention).Still swings and roundabouts I suppose,be lucky you hairy poptarts.Oi oi.