..................Lead on small mollusc.
I don't think I've ever met anyone interesting called Brian. It's the sort of name you expect a librarian or a minor civil servant to have. Most Brians will have garden sheds, wear bicycle clips, and regard grey socks worn with sandals as a rather fetching combination. I suppose one could just about imagine a Brian being a kiddie fiddler or a voyeur, but I very much doubt if they would have sufficient imagination to indulge in either unwholesome activity.
The only remotely charismatic Brian that I have ever encountered is Brian the Snail off The Magic Roundabout, and he was a bit dim witted.
Fortunately for Brians everywhere there may be a glimmer of hope. I was intrigued to learn that eccentric avant garde glam rock star and conceptual artist Brian Peter George St. John le Baptiste de la Salle Eno is "terribly attracted to women with ocular damage"*. What he means by this I'm not sure; perhaps he likes them to be cross eyed, or have a coquettish squint.
As I see it this is the perfect opportunity for the ladies who read this blog to grab their very own English rock star firmly by the goolies. I'm sure the prospect of joining him as he performs with his male voice choir in his London studio, or conducts interesting horticultural experiments in the grounds of his Elizabethan manor house, will be too much to resist. All that will be required is a glass eye and a wink and Brian will be theirs.
* Incidentally, he also claims that “the bottom is the large brain”. Whatever that means.
12 comments:
Perhaps he meant to say that “the bottom is the large Brian”.
Kevin ranks right up there with Brian, I might add.
Or "the Brian is the large bottom".
Nigel is even worse than Kevin.
Well, I've got very poor eyesight and like Before And After Science and Here Come The Warm Jets - would I be in with a good chance?
Used to have a crush on the Bryan with a Y in Roxy Music, but he seems to be a complete twat, and only goes out with twenty year olds these days. Eno may be the better choice after all.
You'd be a shoo in Betty, as long as you wore some NHS specs.
my first love was a Brian. what a sweetie...
That just about sums up Brianness. He was your first love, then you dumped him.
I call my bottom Brian. Does that mean anything.
I worked with a great Brian in Brighton (Brian-ton)
Shit, you forgot Brian Cant, how could you forget him, he was a legend, that was until he left playaway and started working on that shitefest dappledown farm or something.
Yes, Brian could. Brian Blessed, on the other hand ,couldn't. He just shouted a lot.
i knew a kid named Brian in grade school. he was an ass. his father had painted everything they owned-house, fence, truck, both cars, shed, boat-the same shade of bright blue-green.
i don't know if there is a connection there.
Obviously everyone on the Mayflower was called Brian, even the women.
This would explain why Dubya got elected as President.
Hergey has named his arse?
How very peculiar. Queer, in fact.
Perhaps he calls his penis Percy.
I think we should be told.
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