And we end the Round Of Rubbish in the traditional British pub style. Of course you are all welcome back to mine if you bring a bottle and you do not mind sitting in silence as we get down to the serious business of getting sozzled. Silence? Well yes, obviously there is no music round my gaffe. But I also do not engage in conversation with drunken old fools in my place too. It would be too much like listening to an Arab Strap record.

I have nothing against Scottish people getting drunk. Anything that might increase the chance of the Proclaimers, Wet Wet Wet or Belle And Sebastian getting their head kicked in must be a good thing. What I do object to is them then turning on a drum machine, letting a guitar feedback quietly in the corner of a room and talking over it in some vain attempt to make earthy, gritty music. Arab Strap tells tales of Scottish lowlives, fine so does Irvine Welsh and he doesn’t does it nice a quietly in books. The fact that the members of the ver Strap have such over-emphasized Scottish accents also does not help: its like listening to Kerouac performed by the Krankies.

Last Orders by the way is not a song about pubs at all. Its about not having sex because your not going out. Well at least they aren’t going out. Locked at home infront of their televisions may save us from them making another awful slurred record. The only real relevence the title has to the song is that if it was in a long list of song ever written, it might well be the the last one you would ever order. It is that bad.