> "Mrs Lumpless" gmail.com> wrote in message
>
> news:833f2b12-075c-4cce-a410-a99eac3fdc5d@q24g2000prf.googlegroups.com...
> On Jul 18, 1:08 pm, Geep nospam.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>

>> In message , Lydia Dustbin
>> blueyonder.co.uk> writes

>

>>>"Geep" nospam.demon.co.uk> wrote in message

>

>>>> Ah! That would be Afba, not 2eggs.

>

>>>> Hello, BTW :-)

>>>Hi! I remember your name.
>>>.

>

>> I certainly remember you as Wumpus :-)

>
> Ah, now I do too, from the Shed.  I remember your hilarious blog one
> year about your neighbour's horrific Puevfgznf lights!  That was you,
> wasn't it? Or did I dream the whole thing?
>
> Twinkling Phil? Ohhh yes. Sing Alas, for the forgotten glories of yesterday
> for this last Christmas there was only one lonly light in the window, a mere
> echo of the past.
> But never mind! His Elivis impersonation routine is doing
> EVERSO well and although at his age he hasn;t enough hair to totally
> convince, his sideboards are bushy and well up to standard.
> On the good side, he can sing and doesn't pretend. I mean, I
> understand he doesn;t talk about going back home to Pricilla or anything
> like that. Just gives a good golden oldies show popular in retirement homes
> and working men's clubs.
> .
> During his one but last Christmas extravaganza notices went up warning about
> a 'carol concert' and all invited to attand, at the end of his drive,
> hot-dogs to be provided at a snip etc.
> Come the evening I watched him erect a mini-stage with a big square tent
> thing protecting, over, and a set of massive loudspeakers with fat wires
> disappearing into his house and 'Testing.. TESTing.. TESTING!!!'
> At the witching hour the crowds gathered (I was up here, nose poking out
> from behind the curtains) and the event kicked off with Elvis singing Oh
> Little Town of Bethlehem to the delight of the crowd which was just as well
> because that was the last carol they got that night.
> His selection was... curious. I had no idea Elvis could be so gloomy. By
> nine I was so close to tears I went off down the road for ciggies and at the
> bottom of the hill - the far bottom - people were standing gawping up the
> road asking 'can I hear Elvis?' and pushing their fingers in their ears and
> wiggling them about.
> ' You make me so lonely, babeeee,' Twang! ' I gettah so lonely' Twang!
> Twangy-twang! 'I could die-eye, eye, eye...'
> Everybody was terribly depressed.
> But the hotdogs went down a treat.
> .
> And that was the twilight of the lights, GottaPhilarung so-to-speak  because
> the disconted murmurings got back to him so he never did it again.