Monday 15 June 2009

Clacton, the mecca of rock and roll part 2


And so we continued the drive to Clacton. I was still feeling a twat for being totally suckered in hook line and sinker by the Evil Doctor Clive Jackson from Dr. & The Medics by his evil plan to take over the world by pretending to leave Phil and I at the Premier Lodge only to be totally disappointed that all he achieved was seemingly pretending to leave Phil and I at the Premier Lodge. (that's a gag that he'd understand)

Anyway, after a while the feeling a twat wore off. We got to Clacton West Cliff Theatre early and so there was no rush to build the kit up so we went off for something to eat.

That was welcomed as all I had that morning was some cold chicken drumsticks and 2 Babybels from the Garage adjacent to the Premier Lodge, even though there was a restaurant just a few feet away from the entrance to the Lodge, I didn't eat there but not through choice. "But Steve man, you're a growing boy with a growing boy's needs, so why not something more substantial to eat in't morning?" I hear you ask. The truth is it's a rant in itself and as I am on a self imposed Rant Ban, I cannot go into it for fear of doing just that! Suffice as to say, it quite annoyed me!

We chose to eat at a 'Spoons again. A 'Spoons by the name of "The Moon and Starfish" I couldn't help but notice the innuendo within the title and so asked the barmaid was the original plan to call the pub "The Arsehole" not approved? Furthermore, are there other pubs in the Weatherspoons chain in the area such as "The Beared Clam" or "The Meat and Two Veg"? She laughed but didn't reply!

I didn't have my usual Dr. Atkins approved Mixed Grill, instead I had my Dr. Atkins approved Chicken Caesar Salad. I love variety, uuuurgh! Ian had something that was supposed to be Chilli Con Carne but looked to me more like a bowl of Tramp Diarrhoea complete with specs of bog paper. Clive had something or other, but needed to add Spicy Chicken wings after he'd finished it so it can't have been worthwhile. Phil was sporting ANOTHER hangover and so didn't eat at all. I did try and tell him last night about his vulnerability to have hangovers after a few drinks, but he was confident that he would be fine as he was drinking Rose. Alas not!

We stayed for a while as it was a sunny day and I noticed across the street this:



I then imagined a surreal scenario such as this:
Judge - "Cheese Sandwich. I hereby sentence you to spend 10 years at her majesty's pleasure on the buffet car of an Inter City 125 train travelling from Leeds to London as a facade of a meal, overly priced and made from the poorest quality ingredients for crimes against mankind. JUST because you're sometimes made with Brown Bread and Low Fat Spread DOES NOT make you healthy nor nutritious. Do you have any last words?"
Cheese Sandwich - "Yeah y'ona. Oive bin stiched aaaap! Oil do me toim standin' on me 'ed oi wiiiiw! Y'aven't go me beat!"

..... Or something like that. It was while I was relaying this to the others I then realised that I am indeed a broken nail away from driving a bus load of kids off a cliff... as someone that was once very close to me used to say.

After getting back to the gig, setting up the kit and sound checking, it was show time. We were already told that ticket sales were shit again but it turned out a little better than we'd been told. There's was just over 100 there when we were were told there'd be around 99. Actually, I think it was more 130 ish. Totally shit for a place that would have taken about 500. Every night we play to pitiful attendances I feel a piece of me dying away slowly.

It still didn't stop me having a complete ball on the show though. It was hot up there too so I had my shirt unbuttoned almost all the way down. I was giving the dancers a flash as they walked past in between beats. It dumbfounded me that they didn't orgasm where they stood??? They must have not got a clear look my furriness and manly pecks, yeah that'll be it for sure!

There was some tomfoolery going on too. When Wayne introduced Bill as "Beaver Bill" he came out in onto the stage with no trousers on with just his boxers... Ho ho ho how we laughed. I haven't laughed so much since, since, since I sold my Skoda. Laugh, I nearly paid my Tax. Laugh, I nearly passed my fags round. Laugh, I thought I'd shit myself! LAUGH? I THOUGHT WE'D NEVER START! Wayne couldn't carry on with his speech for laughing... man, such a party was going on, when we roll, WE ROLL BIG! They are all such cads, I jest yee not!!!! hahahahahaHAHAHAHAAAAAAARGHYABASTARDS!

... note my sarcasm?

And here's one for all the Circus Boyos!

STOPLAUGHINGNOTFUNNYSHIT! Well, it was funnyish but not deserving of the milking it got in my HUMBLE opinion.

We have a massive long drive back to Wales now. Phil travels to Sutton Coldfield in the Minibus with the rest of the cast and he's already texted me with his angst! Ah, bless his cotton socks but it was his choosing, so suck that shit up!

So we have a day off, then it's back up to Blackpool, that shitty tower (but it's OUR shitty tower) tacky kiss me quick hats, foreign bar staff with better English than the locals and most significantly, PLAYING TO NO BUGGER! I canny wait!

Until then....

1 comment:

Mike, Jacqui and Ieuan Mackrill said...

Ah, the romance of the road! The thrill of cheering audiences!

A Marvin (Paranoid Android) would say...

Sounds Ghastly!!