Summer of '85...Another scorcher today in Scotland. I'm down to 3 jumpers (still long sleeves). This sweltering blue sky heat, makes me think of holiday music. No, no, no, not that Euro muzak trash. I mean songs that became the holiday. So...1985. Rhodes. Blisteringly hot. Myself and two chums stagger off the sands, after a gruelling 'sunathon'. Beach bar. Large bottles of chilled Becks. Strains of gorgeous George in the background, before he became the sad character he cuts today. Thanks for some great toons, pal. Not that Ridgley one. He was just a tit. Ah, holiday memories are made of this...
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