Only Danish Indie Electro-Pop Can Save Us Now!

When I Say "Us" 
 - of course I actually mean "Me" and you'll just have to put up with it because, once again, whose blog is it?

No!  Not Bix Beiderbecke's

     I had the fortune or penance - Conrad inclines to the latter - to hear Feist's "1 2 3 4" played at The Electric Goldfish Bowl last week and subsequently could not get the damned tune out of my head, and for days at that.  By this afternoon I had gotten over it until another colleague started speaking numbers in sequence "five six seven eight" and Lo!  Did "1 2 3 4" come back to roost in my head?  Yes it did.  THANK YOU NAMELESS WORK COLLEAGUE THANK YOU SO VERY VERY MUCH.
     There is a cure, as I'm sure you're glad to hear: playing Mew's "Cross The River On Your Own".  Several times in succession.  There is a risk of consequences, as the album is - Art?

Thus

    - entitled "+/-" which is, you have to admit, a bit arithmetical.  Which means -

Conrad's Revenge
Is rather like that of The Mysterons, slow yet effective.  You lot will find out when you get to Mars in 2067.  Anyway, let us re-use a photograph from yesteryon.

I shall let you guess which one is Stacy.

     You might not be able to see in the Comments, but I confidently assert that vengeance shall be mine.
     And it was!  I did mention that Stacy took part in the charity walk up Mount Snowdon, where the weather conditions were appalling.  That photo above was taken on a canal boat, and Stacy would have been drier after her "walk*"  if she'd been in the canal.
     Well, here's Revenge part 11, the "Pome" that your humble hack whipped up for her.

Shortly now to wing her way

Young Stacy here is gone astray

To be cabin crew in the sky

I shall explain the reason why

I confess it was all my fault

Being an absent-minded dolt

I called her by the surname “ deleted for safety and security”

This was TOO MUCH! It was ENOUGH!

Now, she’s off to live in The Smoke

Commiserations, Stace, you’ll be broke.

Life in the South costs a lot

You’re wealthy now, then you’ll be not

Your pizza habit will have to stop

Instead you’ll  eat airline glop.

Plundered from the catering cart.

You’ll be less a dolly, more a tart.

I refer of course to your citric wit

We’ll no longer have to endure it.

That car will also have to go

You can’t just park it at Heathrow!

I think that’s enough of praise

Now get you gone to British Airways …

Only Danish Indie Electro-Pop Can Save You Now!
Indeed.  Conrad is firmly of the ilk who believe, in order to counter the Nork menace, we need simply put First Bus in charge of their nuclear missile programme.  Within weeks they'll have blown up the research site, and within months will have devastated the rest of North Korea**.
     "Ah," I hear you sagely suggest.  "The 24 bus was late again?"
     Yes indeed, and it's a good thing I keep my pocket nuclear arsenal strictly for emergencies, or there would have been trouble today.

"Ooops!" said Conrad

     The 24 - I don't care if you're bored, you're going to SIT DOWN AND PAY ATTENTION! - did not turn up, and by the looks of things the previous 182 hadn't materialised either.  I use that word "materialised" in the sense of incredibly complex and delicate matter-transmission technology required to move a bus from A to B, which malfunctions frequently, because that's an interesting reason and I like to add a bit of creative wit to my taunts.

The jackalope, as rare as the 24 bus***

     Consequently - have I used that word already?  Let me check - no, it was "subsequently" so we're good to go - the 181, when it turned up, was rammed.  Thus late in setting off as a hundred people crammed themselves onto it.  Me, I prefer to eat sardines, not act like one.
     So I soothed my tortured brow with a lot more Mew, I can tell you.  Oh, they're a Danish indie electro-pop outfit, in case you were wondering.
     Then, we hit traffic.  A mile-long queue because of a ten yard roadworks placement.
     I have to get off the 181 in Royton and then wait for the next bus to Rochdale, which turned out to be -
     You're probably ahead of me here, aren't you?  You could probably tell by the veins throbbing at my temple.  Yes, it was the 24, turning up either 10 minutes early or 20 minutes late.  Conrad inclines toward the latter.

First Bus spokesdemon: "Of coursssse, Conrad.  We - ah - eliminate driverssss who drive off early."

*  Actually closer to mountaineering
**  Not sure how you'd tell the difference
***  A little in-joke for the South Canadians out there