Well I have to report that as of recent my head seems to be rather empty of imagination.
It's not that I haven't been trying, you understand: oh no indeed. Every day Mr Brain has been going to the Ideas Factory on the bus, trawling down the isles with his shopping trolley (complete with wonky wheel), but sadly he has been returning home empty handed.
So to give him some much needed rest I thought that instead of something new I would bring you something old that was, to all intents and purposes, new.
As you know by now one of the many things that I do is write songs, lyrics and poems: well, some years ago when I first moved into my current home I sat down to write and record my first set of songs at that house. Somewhere along the way I came up with the below idea.
It's original genesis was the idea to write something that might easily have come from one of the early solo albums of (former frontman of The Smiths) Stephen Morrissey.
Morrissey, who is ubiquitously known by his surname and by his happy, smiling approach to life (erm...well, maybe not the latter) has an occasional flirtation with songs that are a combination of social commentary and wry northern humour (note that humour is deliberately spelt the British way just to annoy the spell checker)
So the below was an attempt on my part to write a song that was describing the most awful party you could imagine and to place at that party a family of utter wierdos - every family has at least one nutter, but the below seems to have more than its fair share.
Anyway, enjoy. Oh, and by the way - a Tory Back-bencher is a member of the Conservative Party who has a seat in Parliament, but not a very important one.
Your Family And Other Animals
At the family party
Oh she is trying to make amends
For making love with your best friend
She's had more than a skin full
Tell me isn't it sinful
Oh yes, it's a sad disgrace
To still be shagging at her age
And your Glamorous Grandma
Squeezes into her wonderbra
With her blue rinse and dentures
Seducing Tory back-benchers
And your Marvelous Mother
Is cleaning the cutlery knives
She's making light of the fact that
She's a pin-up in Reader's Wives
And here's your Flatulent Father
Well we know what he's after
Oh yes his pension won't go far
He swills it down at the local bar
And your Belligerent Brother
Well you can't stand one another
He's got a wife, but he hits her
Oh God, he's much worse than Hitler
And your Marvelous Mother
Tells you, you do not love her
Oh yes it's you she's accusing
For your Father's gay cruising
And your Suffering Sister
Has yet to make her appearance
Well she's making the most of
The Tesco's seasonal clearance