Sub-aqua urine inspector

We rehearsed on a Saturday afternoon this week. We also rehearsed quietly. Still drank beer though. The reason for the change in time was that we hadn’t been able to get together during the week and Andy had to take his offspring to the fireworks in the evening. We couldn’t do Friday because Mike simply had to go out on the tiles and get shitfaced. The reason for the change in volume was that we are due to play a gig in the FACT bar on Thursday at about 8 o’clock and we reasoned that a less cacophonous approach might be appreciated. It was ok. I won’t say it was underwhelming but then it certainly wasn’t overwhelming. I suppose you could say it was “parrawhelming”, or “equiwhelming”. Some people would proffer “whelming” but that isn’t trying hard enough. Try harder.

Also on Saturday Mike presented us with our latest product: Guts the Single. I love it. I think every song on it is exceptional. You might not agree, but I don’t care. If I started caring what you thought my whole edifice of superiority and braggadocio would crumble like the soggy cardboard box it is. A cardboard box that had been pissed on by a horse. And a rabbit. And a goat.

After rehearsal and fireworks Andy and I met up to go drinking and catch some bands.  First we went to the Shipping Forecast and saw Choc Electrique, who were very entertaining. They definitely needed a smoke machine and more spandex. The drummer had a bandana so they might as well go the whole hog. Hog wholer.

Then we bumbled off to the Mojo where something was happening. The sound was really very bad where we were stood so I can’t give a fair assessment of what it was that was happening. But then, I can rarely give a fair assessment of anything. We drank our bloody marys, munched on our celery and pootled off to an old man’s pub to talk about a band whose name currently escapes me and eat peanuts before returning to the Mojo to see someone else and then go home.

Here are the things I learned:

• Andy’s kids really don’t like mushrooms.
• Young people often look like they are having a lot more fun then I have ever had. I was a young person once and as far as I recall I didn’t have half as much sexy looking, pert and fresh faced fun as they do.
• Bloody Marys fill me up like dinner.
• Andy is at least 27% cooler than I am.

Whilst Andy is cooler than I am he isn’t going to be allowed to play with proper drum sticks on Thursday. I on the other hand will be singing with my proper head. He has to use these stick like things that look like small fasces without the axe. As you may or may not know Andy is a big fan of the Roman Republic and dresses up like a magistrate on the weekends. He also does his weekly shopping in a chariot. He doesn’t care for Goths either, neither the Visigoths or the Ostrogoths flavour Goths. They make him sad. 

Do all black and white things taste of mint? In the name of science I ask you to lick.

I have do not have a problem with Goths myself, of whatever flavour. Possibly not liquorice Goths. I do not care for liquorice. I doubt they come in that flavour anyway. With their pale skins and black clothes I imagine they probably taste like humbugs. Since the opportunity to taste a Goth has never presented itself to me I cannot give a definitive answer. Of course if they do taste like humbugs then one won’t be enough since I am rather partial to mint flavoured sweets. Then again, given the size of your average Goth in comparison to your average humbug I imagine one Goth will last quite some time. Look after them properly and one could probably last you for at least a couple of months. And you would have minty fresh breath to boot. This must be the solution to a problem that no one realises we have. I should write into the Reader’s Digest or Fiesta right away. Get out. I have work to do.

Dear Fiesta / Reader’s Digest,

I want to tell you about an encounter I had with a person who liked to wear black and had a pale face. I had read about this kind of thing happening to other people but never thought it would happen to me. I had just finished mending a young lady’s washing machine when I managed to spill whole tub of ice cream on myself……