One consequence of finding Aerosmith lodged in the old frontal lobe was I'm pretty sure I recently sang "Dream till your balls turn blue" out loud on Muswell Hill Broadway.I tend to get a tune in my head but find myself subconsciously making up alternative lyrics.
Gets a bit awkward when you are ambling into Sainsburys quietly singing your own version of an AC/DC song about the cat.
I've had that one. It only occurred to me after reading your post. "Supermatch game, supermatch game." The amount of crap that we watched us as kids when there were only 3 or 4 channels, especially in a family contexts. Even if you're from a more enlightened family you would always find yourself at someone's house where the TV was the focus of their life.For those of a certain age, this ghost of Christmas past gatecrashed over the festive period:
Blankety-blank, Blankety-blank, Blankety Blank
Feel free to take it off my hands...
"Supermatch game, supermatch game."
Nor me.CCR? Another one I'd be happy with. Swap you for 'supermatch game...'
Serious point: I find the ear worm thing affects me mostly in the evening when I'm tired.
Actually, I'd hardly given this topic a thought until this thread. The wonders of W-pages.
It was just one of those things that has been happening subconsciously and this thread raised it to the level of consciousness. A bit like remembering a dream.Nor me.
Interestingly (or not) I seem to often wake up with these things just wriggling away.
What’s to say that some of us aren’t already there?It was just one of those things that has been happening subconsciously and this thread raised it to the level of consciousness. A bit like remembering a dream.
I worry that all participants of this thread get a knock on the door, get forcibly put into straight jackets and locked into a padded room