Torquay - the English Riviera

After another day off at home (doing little apart from meeting my day old nephew, and boy what a ball of loveliness he is too, you did good my brother!) I find myself back on the road again with hefty dose of reality. I whine but I have to remind myself that in spite of its short comings, touring with this show is still a better job than what 90% of people have right now. So count your blessings Stevie boy!!!

...1, 2, 3, ...er, 4. Er, 5, no not that one. Ah, 5!!

(imagine me holding up my fingers one by one while racking my brains for that to work)

After doing a work out on Dad's bike and weights last night, I made a point of making a todo list so I don't go through the headfit again that I did two days ago because I hadn't organized myself. Though if I wanted to be organized I would just got everything done the night before so all I'd have to do on the morning is get my ass up and jump in the car.

... Well, and put some clothes on too of course. I mean, if I had just got up and jumped in the car, that would have been silly. Can you imagine the looks I'd get at traffic lights from workmen?

"Hey Reg, look there! That bloke's not wearing anything? You can see his Mott and balls!"
"Oh yeah, and his cock too.... just!"

But I did get everything done before leaving and left at perfect time to get to Ian's. And I did just that much to the relief of my fragile psyche; another freakout would have put me over the edge I fear.

So my complete psychotic episode will have to wait for another day. Probably when after all the usual getting up late shit, missing breakfast, speeding like a mad man, almost crashing and ending my life, getting lost, getting stuck behind old folks/school busses/tractors/cattle/a marching band playing (that are sometimes called "Jazz" bands, WHY?!?) only then to fumble while hitting a roundabout at 60 thus spilling hot coffee all over my legs and balls!

THEN would I be having my psychotic episode and quite rightly so.

But not today which in contrast couldn't have gone better. Still plenty of time for it to fuck up yet. We got to Clive's, jumped in and headed off.

Before I knew it we was in Torquay - The English Riviera, which I think is a funny term and one that doesn't really sell it to me. The very nature of comparing it to The Riviera in Portugal but tagging "the English" before it is almost like saying, "look, it's no way as nice but it's the closest thing we have to it ok?!" To further my point, are there signs on the Algarve saying, "The Portuguese Torquay"??? If I was a betting man, I'd say not!

There was an atmosphere when we arrived too, oh joy! It was all about the new arrival and soundcheck times and general failure (or lack of want if my opinion is known) to sympathize with others' situations. I'm being very general as to not get accused of being one of them. I play drums and for as much as I can, I stay out of being an active member in the politics. I think if I was, I'd be like Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP.

See what I did there, Clever? Yeah I thought so too!