Tra-laaaa!

Sunday Scribblings toot-e-toot-e-toot!

My friend’s mother’s daughter’s auntie has a parrot called Screech. However, that’s another subject.

Do you think I screech when I sing? That's a silly question I suppose, as you've probably never heard me sing. Unless you are my next-door neighbour in which case you know I don’t screech when I sing. No, I alter the tone of my voice to convey the emotion in the piece of music I'm interpreting. Yes, that's it.

 

The reason I mention this is because last Friday Dave said I should go on a telly programme called Screech for the Stars. I've never heard of it myself.

Tell you what. Why don't you come down the Bicycle Arms this Friday and judge for yourself? It's karaoke night and I'm always the star turn. At least, I think I am. Yes, I know I am. I usually take to the stage (it's actually a couple of upturned beer crates) second. Una the Crooner normally kicks off. I consider her my warm up act.

If you have any requests, (not you Dave) note them in the comment box down below and I'll practice them.

Hey, it's nearly three I the morning and I've got to get up soon. I can't get up if I don't go to bed, so I'd better ...go to bed!

Nighty night.