She Writes the Songs That Make the Whole World Sing

I rang The Burp this afternoon to check what's happening tonight: we're going to the movies with Carrington, who is visiting from Albany. (I also wanted to make sure she wasn't jealous that the New Girl had been getting lots of mentions on the blog.)

As so often happens, even just a five-minute Burp convo did not disappoint.

Of movie choices: "Well, there isn't much on. Except for the movie you want to see. Snuff?"

"Er, no, Hot Fuzz is what it's called."

Hysterical Burp laughter, then: "I don't know what I'm doing. My bits are all over the place."

Welcome back, Burp; you've been missed.