Sandra Bond, you have taught me too well. This is ritual desecration of Nick Parish's latest, greatest drinking song. Follow the bouncing ball, now: NICK PARISH EDITS A SUBZINE (To the tune of "John Kettley is a weatherman", by A Tribe of Toffs) Richard Sharp mutilates carp, Jeremy Tullett's made of bullets, David Oya left his mind in the foyer, Nick Parish... Nick Parish... Nick Parish... edits a subzine! Chorus: Nick Parish edits a subzine, does a subzine, does a subzine. Nick Parish edits a subzine, and so does Nice Guy Reusch. Speccy Duncan's always drunken, That James Hardy should be lardy, Peter Birks played Captain Kirk, Nick Parish... Nick Parish... Nick Parish... edits a subzine! chorus Alan Parr's made of guitars, Paul Cockayne, he is the same, Chris-and-Brenda Palm, they mean no harm, Nick Parish... Nick Parish... Nick Parish... edits a subzine! chorus Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. David Newnham and his amazing NMR solo! Nick Parish... Nick Parish... Nick Parish... edits a subzine! chorus (I hope Nick Parish likes this song.) Martin Bates's face deflates, Daniel Lester eats investors, Andrew Huddo drinks ten pints at a go, Nick Parish... Nick Parish... Nick Parish... edits a subzine! chorus You know Mark Stretch? He makes me retch, Of Sandra Bond, I'm very fond, Turbo Nick has got no NECK! Nick Parish... Nick Parish... Nick Parish... edits a subzine! chorus Nick Parish edits a subzine, does a subzine, does a subzine. Nick Parish edits a subzine, and so does Nice Guy Reusch. And so does John Colledge! And... so... does... Chris... M.... Dickson............ And so doesn't Simon Hornby. [It was discussed for a time whether this song should get its first - and only, hopefully - rendition at the DipSoc Curry after OxCon, but, probably due to a conspiracy between all that is Good and Pure in this world, no such song was sung.]