Sometimes, I have an idea that will only ever amuse myself.
Overhearing the word “Argentina” this morning put me in the mood to sing “Don’t Cry for me Agentina” from Evita. It quickly became an earworm and, by the afternoon for some reason, I’d semi-consciously changed “Argentina” in the song to “Wolverhampton.”
Soon, I imagined a Wringham & Godsil live show in Wolverhampton, in which I slag off the Midlands for an hour — hopefully being booed and heckled the whole time — while Dan defends it. At the end, I tear off my suit to reveal a Wolves strip and sing my breakout song.
All I have to do to make this happen is convince Dan to come out of his well-deserved retirement from showbiz, build up enough of an audience in the Midlands for us to sell more than half a room, find a way not to throw up when debasing my body with sportswear, and learn (a) the lyrics and (b) to sing.
Other than that, it’s an obvious goer.