Sandra

I was hoping, en route to Japan, to buy a couple of Sandra CDs in Frankfurt airport. No such luck. No Sandra CDs to be had. Bizarre, really, like going to Vegas and finding no one-armed bandits.

I was very disappointed, almost suicidal. Thankfully, my disappointment didn't last long. Only twenty four hours into my all-Nippon holiday, and Sandra's Reflections was in my hands. No The Art Of Love, sadly, but I shouldn't be greedy. How odd, Ms Cretu is unavailable on her own soil, yet, there she was in Japan, and on import, to boot.

Just when I thought I couldn't get any happier, when I was about to blow my musical wad, I found Dannii's He's The Greatest Dancer! Australian import! Multiple-orgasm spunky Minge! I think I actually screamed and felt like my head had just fallen off.

Back at the hotel, CDs were speedily bunged into the player and I did a wee jig. You may jig, too, dear reader, if you do so wish. I offer:

He's the greatest dancer

and

In the heat of the night

I thank you.