Stretch’s Scary Halloween Songs No.8: Miranda Sex Garden – Play

It’s coming up to that time. Yes, Petey Steele is dead, so Halloween’s a’comin and he gets to be more involved than usual. So, if

I ain't never writ a banana, no way.

you see a nine-foot tall goth-metaller looking paler than usual, get the fuck out of town. Ray Bradbury’s Halloween Tree will be on my bedside locker yet again. When I say bedside locker, I mean branch. And when I say book, I mean banana.

Before Russell Brand became a man, he had a relatively successful time scaring the shit out of young indie kids pretending to be that creepy wench from Ring. So effective was he that between himself, Ride and Miranda Sex Garden, no pregnancies occurred in the Oxford area for the whole of 1992… Then he became a man and screwed seven shades of shit out of middle-England. No wonder the Daily Mail is outraged by the man. That dirty, dirty sod.

Anyway, if anybody remembers this band, you get a prize. Unfortunately the prize is me, forever. So, start picking out paint colours, we have a lot to talk about. I am obedient, cook perfect Risotto, but am slightly not right. Testemonies will be produced on request. Although, they all say the same thing: nice enough but lapses into craziness cyclically. Difficult to see while driving.

Boo! I’m behind you

Something’s gotta hold of my heart……

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