Ah, the horn…

So, I’m in an underground bierkeller watching an oom-pah band wearing lederhosen playing Michael Jackson covers….

Brass…and the woman next to me says ‘I bet the trombonist gets way more sex than the others.’ (She actually said something far ruder, but fill in the blanks).

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Watch and learn my friend.’

Sure enough, at least once per song he’d wander out amongst the punters to flagellate his proboscis in someone’s face (always female). Once I realised what he was doing and how blatant it was it slightly cheapened the experience if I’m going to be honest.

…There then followed a segue onto discussing other band members via an argument over whether one of the songs was the theme tune from Fame or Danger mouse…

…It was agreed that we should get on to the guys at Freakonomics and ask them to investigate why there’s always a direct correlation between playing the tuba and being fat. Nothing against fat people (or tuba players), but I defy you to find a thin one. It’s as if they hear the dulcet boh-boh-boh-bom and immediately hang back for that extra piece of cake.

Convinced we were onto something we initiated ‘drunkwise’ – a practice whereby the structure of one’s sentences sounds clever, but under closer inspection is revealed to be utter drivel:

‘Maybe if we banned tuba playing we could solve the obesity crisis?’

‘Perhaps not a silver bullet, but certainly one ingredient in a smorgasbord of measures.’

‘Good god, you wouldn’t want to let a tuba player near a smorgasbord.’

‘Quite right – I chose poorly metaphorically speaking – a raft of measures.’

‘It’d probably sink…’

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