If you come to my flat and you can hear that I’m playing loud music I’m probably cleaning, especially if I’m singing along…if it’s Queen or Tatu or something then the chances are I’m cleaning.
If it’s Dusty Springfield, approach with caution. If it’s Son of A Preacher Man over and over again don’t come in. If I am singing along loudly (in the manner which suggests I wish I’d been born big, busty and black with a voice to match) run away. If I have bothered to program my CD player so that it’s Son of A PreacherMan followed by Queen Too Much Love Will Kill You, followed by TaTu Thirty Minutes; if you have stayed so long outside my flat that you’ve actually heard this DON’T COME IN. RUN AWAY AT ALL COSTS. RUN BEFORE THE NUCLEAR EXPLOSION WORTHY OF…oh anyone who explodes in a nuclear way.