Actually Jessie J, if you don't want the money, money, money please could I have it? Because I've just worked out I have £17.50 to last me until payday which is over 2 weeks away.
And whilst I've got you here Jess... yes I can do it like a brother, do it like a dude, grab my crotch, wear my pants low like you, but why would I want to? I'll give it a miss if it's all the same with you?
Ladies and gents, last week it finally hit me that I'm getting old when I found myself scoffing patronisingly at ground-breaking new artist, Jessie J, on Radio One and realising that I now belong firmly in the Radio Two listener demographic.
I don't like to be mean about people, I don't even dislike Jessie J. She seems like an alright girl with a great voice and lovely shiny hair. Her songs are irritatingly catchy and at least she's not singing about becoming a WAG. What I took offence to was the showboating that took place during her Live Lounge performance. Jessie? Un-nessy.
But what do I know? That very same performance that I found so ridiculous was probably being discussed in sixth form common rooms the length and breadth of the country as something truly original and amazing - although I've no idea what the relevant translations into youth speak would be these days because I am too OLD.
The thing is, I'm still laughing about it now.
Mr G just told me a really sad story about a dog dying of a broken heart and I burst into tears. There was only one thing for it...
Whoaooooaa whooooooaaaaa I haven't f f f f f f finished this post yet
*whispers* I'm making you think I'm finished b b b but, cha ching cha ching, there's still fuel left in the tank
Whooooooaaaaaaaahhh whoa whoa I am