No blogging tonight because Cliff Richard's Summer Holiday sidetracked me. Yes, it's true. One should be exposed to the full fruit of human endeavour, even if it's musty, mouldy, and reeks just a bit. Now left trying to exorcise the stain Bachelor Boy and the rest of Cliff's classic oeuvre have seared on my soul. What better way than this beastie, which just missed out on last decade's top 100.
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