“Sail Like Buggery, It’s The Filth!”

A Minister for Propaganda Elf writes: “The Grand Vizier (above, none too impressed with the getaway rig) would have it known that he is going on the lam, probably down Mexico way,* for the foreseeable future. Damn Feebs, eh? Like, whose business is it really what a man does in the privacy of his own home with a pair of dray horses, a tray of horse and a troupe of belly-dancing dwarves? Anyhoo, the blog known as Crime Always Pays may or may not be updated while the Grand Viz has it on his toes along the palm-fringed beaches on Jamaica’s south coast,* the updates largely dependent on whether or not GV gains access to some wi-fi in the far-flungest regions of the Gobi Desert.* If not, too bad. Either way, we shall all meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, although it’ll very probably be back here in about 10 days time. Until then, we’ll always have Paros.* Peace, out.”

* Cunning, eh? Track that, Feebs!

What Lilyput Did Next: The Peachy Pumpkin Dumplin’ Interlude

A Minister for Propaganda Elf writes: Princess Lilyput made her debut at the renowned beauty spot Glendalough yesterday, with the Grand Vizier among her entourage on pack-mule duties, there to be serenaded (see above) with the latest ditty to be penned by CAP Towers’ resident Composer Elf, ‘Peachy Pumpkin Dumplin’’. Sung to the tune of ‘She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain’, the lyrics runneth thusly:

Peachy Pumpkin Dumplin’
“You’re a peachy pumpkin dumplin’ / Yes you are /
You’re a peachy pumpkin dumplin’ / Yes you are /
You’re a peachy pumpkin dumplin’ / A peachy pumpkin dumplin’ /
You’re a peachy pumpkin’ dumplin’ / Boopy-doop!”
(© Composer Elf, 2008)

The Princess is partial to ye olde ‘boopy-doops’, see …

Yakkity-Yak (or, How Some People) Don’t Talk Back

A Minister for Propaganda Elf writes: An anomaly has come to the attention of the Grand Vizier, and it’s this: according to the very fine statcounter provided by, well, Statcounter, Crime Always Pays averages an admittedly modest 60 returning visitors per day, and yet the comment-to-visitor ratio languishes at a rather miserable 0.26.*
  Clearly, this means one of two things: (a) the posts are so bloody rubbish they’re not worth commenting on, so we might as well strike tent and start blogging about chick lit instead; or, (b) at least some of the posts are interesting enough to encourage repeat visits but the buggers are just too lazy to type a few words.
  On the very dubious supposition that the problem is (b) rather than (a), allow us to provide a list of suggested comments, just to get you started. To wit:

1. This is rubbish.
2. I haven’t seen as much rubbish in public since the ’76 Winter of Discontent.
3. I think John Connolly / Ken Bruen / Tana French is lovelier than warm pyjamas.
4. Where’s the good stuff?
5. Sorry, I was actually looking for Declan Burke-Kennedy’s site.

Honourable mentions for regular comments go to Ann Giles, Peter Rozovsky, Ray Banks, Sinead Gleeson, Gerard Brennan, Colman Keane, Patricia J. Hale, Uriah Robinson and of course the mighty Critical Mick. You’re all excused duties for the next month or so, thanks very much, with a special mention for Ray Banks, who can take the whole year off. As for the rest of you – you know who you are. Do the right thing, people: comment is free.

* Statistic plucked at random from the Grand Vizier’s fevered imagination.