Hello!

Out Of Traction, Back In Action

The more things change, the more they remain the same. We recently had to change drummers, which means that we’re even more Fabulous than previously! Lashings of Exciting items on the horizon, starting with...
February 22nd, we’re supporting Nine Below Zero at Mr Kyps in Poole (they’re a smashing Band and it’s a great place). I don’t know how much the box office are charging for tickets, but I want you to buy them from us because:

• It’ll be cheaper for you;
• It’s the only way we get paid;
• The Venue become impressed with the strength of your support and gives us more great Shows - something we can all enjoy!

You can contact us by Email or the usual Telephone number. By the way, we’ve got a Whole heap of good things coming up soon, I’ll tell you more nearer the time!
Thanks for sticking with us - I promise to repay your loyalty with bigger and better Thrills!

Life After Debt

Another gig list. Which means another lot of gigs. Another schedule of opportunities for Patrick to blow into town, sink your liquor, interfere with your woman-folk and have his arse history by sun up.
New Years Eve sees us at the Pig Inn the City in Gloucester; I think it'll be ticket only and their telephone number is 01452 421960.
I'll tell you something - recently we've played at a number of new places and new towns; and you've been there to welcome us! Thanks for your support!
Let me make a cup of tea and I'll get started on the Bolan Album.

August 2007 - The Large Print Giveth And The Small Print Taketh Away

Howdy, members of the loving public.
We’re soon going to hold competitions at our events; something along the lines of most-friends-brought-to-a-gig or most-miles-travelled, or some such. I’ll try to ensure that the prizes are worth having, too. As I write this, large sections of the country are being devastated by storms and floods; inevitably, some of our gigs may have to be postponed. I want you to know this disappoints us at least as much as it does y’all.
I’m currently obliged to spend a lot of time at the dentist, so if, when you see me, I only grunt and flap my hands at you, its nothing personnel. Next months gig list should have some good jokes and puzzles, so see you then.

July 2007 - Girl Trapped In Refrigerator, Eats Own Foot

I’m told that everybody of a certain age remembers where they were when they heard President Kennedy had been shot. (I was eagerly awaiting the very first episode of Dr. Who) But what really happened on that fateful November day in 1963? Everybody knows that Lee Harvey Oswald shot the President from an open window as the motorcade drove past. But evidence collected through the years has thrown doubt over that judgment. Oswald, who was arrested a few hours after the killing, maintained his innocence throughout the last two days of his life. Within a few hours of being charged, Oswald was gunned down by nightclub owner Jack Ruby. Ruby himself was killed two weeks afterwards by an unemployed blacksmith called Jim Sweeney, who was in turn murdered the following day by a part-time female impressionist called Mary Kinnie. Three days later, Kinnie was killed by a drunk driver identified by the Police as Brutus O'Hooligan. O'Hooligan was released on bail, only to be crushed to death by a falling ostrich deliberately dropped from a 14th story window by a drunken construction worker named Joe Lawrence. Lawrence then tripped over a rope and fell to his death. He landed on the ostrich which still had a biscuit stuck in its throat from a previous meal. The biscuit shot out of the ostrich’s mouth and struck a passer-by in the heart, instantly killing him. The passer-by, a Mr. Cranston Mullarky, fell into the path of a luxury coach, operated by Simpson Tours, which ploughed into an orphanage, killing everybody on board. This series of deaths further convinced sceptics that some kind of cover-up was going on.

June 2007 - Bo Laid Low, Ergo No Show

It was night in the city, and in the concrete heart of the New York jungle it was pouring hard.
This was no time for Singing In The Rain, mused short stout Hiram J. Schickenheimer, and instinctively his eyes looked toward the pavement as, head down, he battered against the icy drizzle and aimed himself toward East Street And 43rd.
Suddenly, at the news stand tucked away by Rubies Burger Joint, a headline caught his eye. He moved forward and read...

May 2007 - Is This The End For Laughing Spam Fritter?

Earlier today, I woke up in my modest room, rubbed my eyes and suddenly the world was a better place. I heard the little birdies, natures winged messengers, twittering their joyous tidings in the trees, the merry little cries of the children on their way to school, the jolly calls of the tradesmen as they ply their wares along the streets and even the flowers waved and bent their heads towards me in silent greeting.
And then suddenly, Old Mr. Sun poked his merry round face above the chimney pots as if to say "Morning Jamie" and I was suddenly aware of enchanting golden beams dancing on my counterpane, when Patrick’s gentle voice whispered "how many lumps do you want in yer porridge?"
It was only then that I realized we’re playing at the Cheese and Grain on June 16th with Bo Diddly. Tickets available from Mr. P. D. Hugget, the thinking man's Harvey Goldsmith.

April 2007 - Ex-Beatle To Record With Dead Chimp?

Everybody has their favorite Rock+Roll casualty stories; when you’re as old as I am, even the really absurd ones have become cast in stone; the Rolls Royce in the swimming pool, the mud shark, Syd Barrett and the Mandrax etc. Tales worn smooth with use, seeping into our collective bones like so much rain. However, there is one truly great rock casualty who remains unmourned. Spare me your Johnny Ace stories! Bore me not with tales of Sid Vicious nor The Big Bopper! I refer, of course, to the astounding rise and equally spectacular fall of Bugsy the Chimp.
It Seems that John Lennon and Yoko Ono were booked to perform a session of "Free Jazz" on John Peel’s Top Gear Radio Show. Getting Free-Form music isn’t actually very easy; a Free-Style-Jazz pianist tends to develop his own method, and even if you just plonk up and down the keyboard yourself you’ve got some idea of the general sound and rhythms that will emerge. Eventually, Peel’s producer John Walters came up with the idea of hiring a Chimpanzee to play the Piano. According to experts, Chimpanzees are happier playing duets (I am not making this up), so subsequently Bugsy + Rosie were driven down from Coventry to the BBC’s London studios. I’m assured that when the tape rolled, they were real pro’s, sitting side by side and, well, playing. Unlike the Lennons who rushed off to the States and have yet to return. Bugsy + Rosie made off, escaping into a schoolyard where they were shot by Police.
Jimi, Janis, Bugsy….. in exorably the rock machine extracts its toll on those whom it blesses with a fleeting glimmer of fame.

March 2007 - Gloria Knew One Thing:

If Hubert never saw another day, he’d live to regret the way he’d behaved so appallingly at Tiffany’s last night. Didn’t he know the sheer soul-destroying horror of that moment when he’d turned to her - so smug, so patently without pity – and revealed that this was it?
The Dream was over.
From now on, he had said, he wasn’t taking her to see The Worried Men any more. "At least", thought Gloria, as she took pen to paper, "I will make him know the void this leaves in my heart".

February 2007 - Who Put The Bomp? What Are We Here For? Whose Round Is It?

It was a dark December night. The streets of Bath were white and deserted as I wandered back from the station after one of my frequent forays to the metropolis in search of excitement and salacious gossip from the wonderful world of show business.
Suddenly, a bony hand shot out from a shadowy doorway, seizing me by the left shoulder and dragging me into the murky recesses of the Rats Nostril, a local watering hole of ill repute. As I struggled to retain my balance and my liberty, I caught a brief glimpse of my assailant and a sickening feeling of horror accompanied the recognition of the deformed person of Johnny Winter.
Now, Johnny’s looking forward to seeing y’all at our gig in April, but he’s concerned that all the tickets are being snapped up by strangers. I told Johnny that I, too, would be upset if our people overlooked this opportunity and that seemed to placate him, until muttering darkly about Pink Fairies reunion gigs, he melted into the Dickensian haze in the manner of Marley’s ghost.

January 2007 - Advice From Uncle Handsome

Once again, the party season is upon us. Cats, the choice is yours: you can stand in line all day and plop down a weeks money to sit in the back row of a Hockey Rink, squinting down at a stage that looks no bigger than a postage stamp to see a bunch of wimps try to be prettier than the girls in their video, or stroll down to the local tavern, sit up front, wrap your paws around a frosty beezo and dig the heavy-duty hootnanny!

December 2006 - Did Duane Eddy Wear Rebel Trousers?

I was listening to the radio the other day when the newsreader related a story concerning a man who had inserted a rocket into his own rectum and lit it. You could hear the technical staff whooping with gales of incredulous but delighted glee. Even the newsreader eventually eschewed the remaining threads of dignity and succumbed to giggly hysterics. It quite distracted me from getting the Christmas decorations down from the loft. (I almost forgot to shout under the toilet door to see if Patrick was alright.)

- Now Dig This!

Next April we’re playing with living legend Johnny Winter. This promises to be one of those seminal gigs that only happen to other people, those whom you particularly dislike. Tickets are available from us, naturally: If this one doesn’t sell out, I’ll kiss Bryan Chapman’s arse in the market place and advertise a month in advance to raise a crowd. Please, please don’t miss out on your chance.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and God bless you all for your love and support: A big kiss to you all (except the males).