Always buying the wrong car

We are out on the road again next week for a couple of gigs. On Tuesday we are off to Chester to support an electronic duo called Schmoo at the Laugh Inn. The comedian Rob Deering was at the Laugh Inn a few weeks back. I heckled him on a drunken night out in Brighton. I also heckled Jim Rosthental’s son that night. It was not the best night ever. The morning after was worse.

Moving swiftly on.

I don’t know what to expect from the Laugh Inn. In my mind all I can see is a series of tables surrounded by polite middle class families, like a matinee performance at Butlins. I’m pretty certain it won’t be like that. Although if it is I’m sure the assembled middle class families will enjoy our new tune Frank Bloke. As your old school comedian might say “it’s a bit blue”. Not Blue as in “Duncan from Blue looked at me and I think he fancies me”. But blue as in “encore de le smut sil vous plait.”

That’s Tuesday. On Friday we are going to be supporting another electronic duo, these ones being called Sister Gracie, at the Bumper in Liverpool. I see a pattern forming. We are being pared up with electronic duos, like pandas in the zoo. Maybe these promoters would like us to mate and breed. I’m not sure it would work, the biology wouldn’t have it. No babies, just spunky colons.

Is “spunky colon” going too far? We’re all friends here, I’m sure you won’t be offended. And if you are it’s your own fault.

I can’t really remember what it was I disliked about Jim Rosthental’s son. Hang on, yes, it’s coming to me. He wasn’t very funny. There you go. Apparently he’s doing a sit-com on Channel 4 soon. Good for him.

 



They said "Get Courtney" 
Which one, Walsh?

I’m writing a sit-com at the moment actually. It’s called Bucket. There will be a cast of four main characters. One will be zany, one will be thick but lovable, one will be witty and urbane and the main character will be a universal everyman, like Kirk in Star Trek or Hannibal Lector. The women will all have nice boobs and the men will have tight bums and firm jaws and they will all have amazing hair. It will be set in Manhattan and they will each have swanky apartments and jobs which they never seem to go to. The series will revolve around their amazing friendship which came about when they all met at a meth and sex orgy where they bludgeoned a blind orphan to death and fed the corpse to swine. 

 

I think I will call episode 72 “The one with the spunky colon”. It’ll be hilarious, grimly hilarious.







 

If you love your neighbours lift your weights in the nude



The buzz lasted for about 2 days. Now it is gone and I need another dose. Saturday night at the Herald in Southport was great. I was genuinely pleased with what we did and how well it all went. Need to get the suit cleaned though because it was a sweaty one.



Iron Age bubble, found in
Budleigh Salterton last Thursday



We shared the evening with two other bands. First up were Ratty Little Fingers, who were very enjoyable and folksy. I felt a bit sorry for the banjo player who had to stand at the business end of a bubble machine. It did occur to be that if you had a grudge against someone making them stand at the business end of a bubble machine would be a reasonably passive aggressive application of your grudge. Pissing in the bubble machine first would elevate this, but I’m not sure where to. I am sure there is a word or phrase for it somewhere in the world, possibly in a culture that is more urine centric.

The Star Turn of the evening was Vision Thing who were excellent and anthemic and majestic. Their drummer, Matt, has now recovered from a fractured back which I hear he received in a no holds barred mixed martial arts death match somewhere in the Devonshire countryside. Rumour has it that he owns a necklace of human ears, trophies from his previous bouts. I would ask but I need my ears to tuck my hair behind when I am trying to eat.

Now I have to wait a whole 3 and a bit days until the next one, which is in Manchester. I don’t know what to expect but I am sure we will have a grand old time. The night is organised by a band called Floone. I imagine a Floone is some kind of technical term in the steel-making industry, or maybe textiles. Something along the lines of:

“Eee lad, watch thou face on’t floone, it’ll take ee nose clean off. Thun yule haff to go hoom with it in tut hankercheef fur tut muther to sew back t’ont face.”

I’m not saying it definitely is; only that it probably definitely is. I can’t think of a more plausible explanation. I will ask and then let you know because that's what I do.

In other news you may have noticed that we have a new song on youtube called Curtains. If you listen to it and like it why not leave a comment? In fact, you could leave a comment here or there. Or even on the wall of a public toilet, if you can find one.

I think that's about it so I'll stop. My knee hurts and I don't know why.