Ohhkay so Mr Scoresayshee ..ho ho, is about to pump/?hump Bob Diddle Dollas back to life, back on the CD or is it swapsite listings, inflation and deflation all at the same time!

But then he should look at '50 Cent' as well, both of these two twats sell, mind you ol 50 is more original IMHO not stealing his tunez from terminal alcoholics like Bob did to Behan and Guthrie ...oh well.

Which neatly raises the point which is oft times discussed here, what the hell does commercial corpofolk have to do with anything?

Of songs most sung since and writ for money in the 60's Tom Paxton takes the prize, but the aformentioned Diddle seemed to have struck a deeper chord (ho ho) among Christians, like his cousin Anxty Stuckmud Fried Yer Granny's Knickers - and that is why (PAY ME ALL YER MONEY TO FIND THE REASON .... ) you hate yer Dad. Some of us did not beleive it then nor now; instead voracious appetites for Gunness agus Craic led to funnier things, the source OC is always far far far better than the arranged, edited, freakin crucified real thing, ie Behan et al. See the Dubliners 'funnier than cats piss in a bottle'. See the earlier writings of Spike Milligan (Sussex UK) or the later Sir John Cleese (Lowdown Pipeworks Wigan UK)

Life goes on, I DO remember meeting with Guitar thumping travelling folks, way way back in the Monkies days who would nowadays create a riot from the laughter they made of things like, "We will now sing 'She Loves anyone Oh Yeah' by The Brutals, and withoutout any break while continuing to stand on our pates, finger in the left ear as advertised, follow that with 'It is not over till I say So' by The Boring Groans"

The man most known to UK revelers of these days would be Mr Barney Mc Kenna of the Dubliners who played the Banjo, Tenor Banjo .....
The Merican tourists of those years seemed utterly unaware of that sceene often listening to Nonenooh and or Ballades by Twits in costume in Arrestyouraunts at ten times the going rate for a banquet, and being ushered away from the pesky smelly Brits all drunk, asleep or delaying the No 10 to Croydon as they peed out the upper windows.

Did I mention the London scene? Oh never mind, I am sure Stan Web would forgive me, all that Psych0delic twaddle, eating mushsomethings ..... talk about irrelevant.

For a great drinking song there is no equal to 'Does your chewing Gum stick to the soles of yer feet'.