When my new roommates moved in back in January, I immediately laid down some groundrules - number one of which was: absolutely NO James Blunt to be played anywhere in the apartment or within earshot of me.
So reading the following in today's Evening Standard really did brighten up my day:
"...This Friday, the Dirty South pub, in Lee High Road [Lewisham, SE London], hosts the League Against James Blunt. The great ex-military crooner is described as a 'whiny, bland, piggy-eyed, talentless gentleman' (actually, they don't use the word gentleman) 'whose castrato warblings somehow enter the female ear, bypass the brain and go straight down to the crotch.' Despite the faint note of sexual envy, the League deserves to sweep London. I've always hated Blunt and his female counterpart, Dido - acts of essentially provincial mediocrity, acts targeted at potato heads from Kettering. They have no place in our great metropolis."
Well put. I for one will most certainly be pledging my allegiance to the League.
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