No Pardon for Those Immortal Pants

Summary


Confession time: I never stole a propelling pencil from Woolies or a soap-on-a-rope from Boots. But I did once nick a Doors album.

My pal Keith Taylor and I reckoned we could smell LPs. We'd pass maisonettes with half-open upstairs windows and, like Bisto Kids, stick our noses in the air to detect the aroma seeping from the grooves, name the bands and establish the exact extent to which this so-called music lover's taste was inferior to ours.

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Extract


No Pardon for Those Immortal Pants

Keith: "Mahavishnu Orchestra?"

Me: "More like Tir Na Nog."

And this stupid game, designed to relieve the tedium of exam leave, would usual...

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