Monthly Archives: May 2010

Forty Three.

This was clearly a gastropub of some repute and the platters being carried past as I surveyed the place filled me with food envy. In particular a huge T-bone steak that looked tempting enough to mug it’s owner. Continue reading

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Forty Two.

I’m not a precious man, I’ve always believed that you make the best of what you’ve got in any given situation. I took one look at this setup and said “Not a fucking chance.” Continue reading

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Forty One.

“What’s your name?”
“Rita.”
“Brilliant name, they’ve got a ride named after you at Alton Towers.”
“They do!”
“Yes, it’s called The Corkscrew.” Continue reading

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Forty.

Imagine a self-indulgent open mic night, extend it by four hours and add copious quantities of booze. All in all, it was an experience akin to watching trains fuck each other. Continue reading

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Thirty Nine.

He continued chatting away at full volume, apparently trying to be heard over Rob on the mic. Soon after he cemented his position as a bell-end by taking a phone call and bellowing into his Nokia. Continue reading

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Thirty Eight.

It’s started to feel less like a gig and more like a reunion on the last Thursday of the month. I get to walk into my own real-life version of Cheers where everyone knows my name and they’re always glad I came. Continue reading

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Thirty Seven.

Beeeeeeeeep! Beep, beep, beep. Continue reading

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Thirty Six.

The Gig: Highlights Battersea, London The Date: 22nd May 2010 The Lineup: Mickey Hutton MCing for James Goldsbury, Pat Monahan, myself and Kev Orkian. It was a glorious Saturday morning in old London town and Stacey took me out to … Continue reading

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Thirty Five.

Due to my inability to plan ahead I’d missed out on the cheap train tickets and nearly swallowed my own eyes when I saw how much a last minute fare was. Suffice to say a taxi couldn’t have been that much more. I could have driven myself from Manchester, parked the car, left the engine idling for the weekend and had comparable costs. Continue reading

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Thirty Four.

For such a nice, sleepy rural town Wrexham had started to resemble The Fast & The Furious on a budget without the subtle homoerotic undertones. Alright, without the obvious homoerotic undertones. Continue reading

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