Can't have you listening to good stuff Stim, you'll end up learning something. That'll never do. We can't get rid of the all the entertainment around here...

I'm not from Worksop, but that's another matter. Lived there, worked there, but a Derbyshire sheep shagger at heart.

Anyway, this is about, according to the op, the shame in singing covers. It would be a shame if some of mine were sung by old men with beards, it just doesn't cut it.. Especially as over 90% are rock and punk songs, not what I would usually do in a folk clubs. I prefer to sing Al's songs in clubs, gives you something to apologise for other than the guitar going out of tune.......

Anyway, back to saving the world. Far better than sitting whinging about the world by the way. Château de Châtillon is something I see from the train when whizzing down for a skiing holiday in Tigne. The Savoire being my favourite part of France when it comes to ski, food and fairly quaffable local wine.

Far too good for the peasants, although the damn Russians are moving in around the valley at Val d'Isere. Keep going round and you get to some very exclusive slopes where only those who have made it such as songwriters of Al's calibre can afford to ski.

Oh, and the dog. He skis in such exclusive private resorts, hence Al knowing about the gold taps in his jacuzzi. I will excuse Al's lack of refinement all the same, as the taps are gold, not gold plated, peasant.... Mrs Musket and I eat gruel in order to keep that dog in jacuzzis, poodles and gravy bones. Where the hell the poodles come into his equation I don't know, because although he doesn't acknowledge the fact, he has had the swishing house bricks operation.

I may have mentioned in the past that his neutering explains everything you ever need to know about religion. He may not have balls, but he certainly still tries to lick them.