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Pic of the Day: “How do you think the new record compares to your old classic stuff?” “Oh come on, Mikey, you know as well as I do the record’s crap. But wouldn’t it be great if Number One this Christmas wasn’t some smug teenager, but an old ex-heroin addict searching for a comeback at any price? All those young popsters, come Christmas Day… they’ll be stretched out naked with a cute bird balancing on their balls, and I’ll be stuck in some dingy flat with me manager, Joe, ugliest man in the world, fucking miserable because our fucking gamble didn’t pay off. So if you believe in Father Christmas, children, like your Uncle Billy does, buy my festering turd of a record. And particularly enjoy the incredible crassness of the moment when we try to squeeze an extra syllable into the fourth line.” “I think you’re referring to ‘If you really love Christmas…'” “‘Come on and let it snow…?’ Ouch!”
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