“HR Pufnstuf / He’s Your Friend When Things Get Rough …”

… especially when we have to write those blummin’ trumpet-blowing puff-pieces. Happily for us, we keep the boy Pufnstuf chained up in the basement of Crime Always Pays Towers and force him to work his magical puffery for us, evil swine-elves that we are. Over to you, HR:

“Ahem. Thank you, evil swine-elves. Well, first off, the ever wonderful Critical Mick is hosting an interview with Chief Evil Swine-Elf Declan Burke, most of which seems to be a load of old cobblers about sharks, Spartans, Francis Wilson reading the Sky weather reports, trading karate kicks with Westlife, interviewing Leonard Cohen, the joys of DIY publishing and how his wife won’t let him have a cat because she’s secretly jealous of them. Then there’s Pulp Pusher, bless their cotton socks, who for some reason best known only to themselves have posted up a piece by the Chief Evil Swine-Elf where he talks a lot about toilet brushes and the difficulty in flushing rejection letters. I ask you, is this literature? Back in my day, we had real writers. And they didn’t talk about toilet brushes. Except maybe that DH Lawrence. And James Joyce liked poo-stains. But other than them, it was ….”

Erm, yes. Cheers, HR - now here’s a hookah, go away and do what you do best …