hello. keith here from frotsoft, doing a bit of guest blogging like. the usual feller has asked us to put summat on here, spice it up a bit for him. and i got just the thing for you, it being valentines and that.
"all night long" by rainbow is widely reputed to be the best song in the anals of musical history. not only does it have a top tune and that, but the words is great and all. it's about a feller who's in a pop group, right, and he's at a concert and there's a bird in the audience who he quite fancies. you can't blame him though cos she's a bit of alright:
I saw you standing there by the stage
Your black stockings and your see-through dress
not bad, eh? anyhow, so he starts singing this song to her, telling her how fit she is and how much he wants to love her all night long, like. it's a master class in chatting a bird up, and i for one have learned a lot from it, playing it over and over before going out on a saturday night. i'll walk you through the different phases, see if i can't teach you summat.
You're sorta young but you're overage
I don't care cos I like you're style
Don't know about your brain but you look alright
see, what he's up to there is flatterising her. it's a fact well known that no bird can stand much flattery before putting out. so he's feeding her all the lines she wants to hear, making her the centre of his universe. so at this point she's well buttered up, like, but not quite ready for the jam. so he moves onto the next stage:
You're mind is dirty but your hands are clean
You're short of class but your legs are long
I can't stand to spend another night on my own
show me a lost puppy and i'll show you a bird with her heart bleeding. it's plain as the foot on the end of your leg: birds is soft, and they can't walk past a poor fucker in distress. so that's what the feller's doing here - making himself out like a lost puppy. "I can't stand to spend another night on my own" - aaah, bless him. (course, he don't ever spend a night on his own, do he, with chatting up skills like these uns.)
Hey girl would you like some wine?
What's your name? Are you by yourself?
Are you the one, what's your sign, can I take you home?
no self-respecting ladies' man permits himself to chat up a bird without feeding her the classics. he knows it, and so does she. she respects herself and all, and she'd feel cheap if she gave in without hearing them old favourites whispered all smoky in her ear. and of course, he saves the big one til last there - "can I take you home?" what you got there is him cleverly ending up with a question, lobbing the ball in her court, and thereby leaving her gagging for it.
so there you go - a lecture in love from one of the world's fourmost authorities. (don't say i never gives you fuck all, eh?) take these chicken nuggets of advice, go out there into the world, do yer stuff and see if you can't pick yerself up a beautiful lady before old saint valentine pisses off.
a word of warning
always practice in the mirror before going out. and remember: it's all about eyebrow movement.