I dreamed again of my former life as a groupie

I dreamed again of my former life as a groupie for the Fixx. Ah, the hair, the clothing, the music - so bad! So God-awful bad!

I'd follow the band in a black VW van. We painted decorated the van and installed dark windows, a mattress, ropes, hand cuffs and a personalised number plate saying FIXX43VA. We

dnesday is hump day," I thought, again. I loved tired office humor. It was like elixir to my heart. But I forgot that. I was a groupie now, following the band of all bands,

The Wiggles. There was something about adoring four year olds, bright colored attire, and simplistic pitched lyrics that gave meaning to my life. I was bound to follow them by,

becoming a Wig-Nut. Like the Grateful Dead, I followed the Wiggles on tour, selling bootleg tapes and specially blended pixie stix. My 6-ft frame stood out among the tikes.

One sunny day while I was showing the kids how to execute the perfect finger waggle, one of the Wiggles' producers sought me out & handed me a crayon note. "Meet us backstage for

They were terrified of The Wiggles. It was the Australian muppets' relentless & unnatural bonhomie & enthusiasm. My little girls knew they had had their souls sucked through their

TV screens along with some brain cells whenever they're forced to watch The Wiggles song and dance routines. Parents and children alike beware their soul-stealing powers.

Common sense will tell you the show is horrible, but your mind and body will betray you and soon you'll start singing " Fruit salad! Yummy Yummy!" Then its too late, they have you.