Over on Facebook, I mentioned that the chest/throat biznay had so altered the port-swiller vocal chords that I thought I could sing the bass part to this song, even hitting the famous low note.  This provoked some surprise among the commenters that somebody so (impliedly) stuffy as Self would even have heard of the thing.

Oh, ye of little faith!  Regular friends of the decanter ought by now to know that ol’ Robbo’s braim is a veritable Sargasso Sea of random useless tidbits.  One should never be surprised at what might float out of it at any given time.

Giddyup, ba-oom-ba, ba-oom-ba, ba-mow-mow, indeed.

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