South Sheilds part 2

Build up South Sheilds

So after hours and hours of endless roads, we arrive as at South Shields. After a quick set up and soundcheck I went off to Asda to get something to eat. The others opted to go to the pub right across from the stage door.

After a few chicken wings and some wendslydale cheese with black current and apple (it's better than it sounds I swear even if does sound like a negative of a turd with load of undigested peanuts in it)
I headed back to the pub where I saw this sign:




Perhaps a Gay club, Sperm bank or jizz ostacle course? You decide.
I then saw this sign on a pub wall:


Showen? I'm sure it's meant to be "showing" But this is to do with the local dialect. But in Wales, we wouldn't have a sign saying "ow mush, ewe can watch ewe sports ere init?" illiterate!!!! Sort it out England, it is your language after all. You're very quick to poke fun at foreigners that don't quite speak the Queen's English, no less us Welsh for our "isn't it?" "look now!" "in a minute now" and our "who's coat is that jacket hanging up on the floor after now in a minute... Now...look!" but somewhat more introvert when it comes to yourselves speaking your mother tongue.

I got back to the pub and was to learn that we had a reasonable turn out. After being gutted for having another pulled show, it came as some comfort to actually play to an audience. Much like a box of porn mags would be if you were in strangeways on a life sentence. Or a finding a can of Shandy Bass if your were a piss head on the Lost Island. I could go on but you get the idea.

I got back to the theatre and for the first time on this leg tour there were a load of Harley's outside the theatre.



See? Harley's outside the theatre, told you!!!




The customs house theatre - south sheilds


The show went, really well. Awesome in fact. No fuck ups whatsoever. No siree, we ALL played perfect. Toto wouldn't have done it better.... Honest! Don't look at me like that I'm serious!

Ok... I played like a twat! Happy???!! I dropped stick in the third song and because I didn't put any spares in my hihat holder, I had to play like Rick Allen (from Def Leppard) for the remainder of the song. I thought it wasn't noticed, if it was just down to the playing it wouldn't have been. But Clive made me from the wings and so had a rather derisery laugh at my expense. But I was to get him back later when he fucked up the words on the chorus of "sweet home Alabama" yeah, I got him back with interest.

You know how they say, "he who laughs last laughs the loudest"? He was to laugh last, longer and louder! In a unusual gap between Don't Want To Miss A Thing and the Tina Turner medley, I paniced and brought the fill in for Knocking On Heaven's Door which wasn't meant to happen until after the Tina medley. Jim and Ian followed me and after a bar and when I realised I'd made a Brontosaurus style of a fuck up, I stumbled to an embarrassing stop to sounds of giggling from either wings.

Humble pie is now served Mr Mackrill, hope you're hungry?
"(gulp).... Fucking starving!!!!"

After the show we had a drink at the pub again. News came through that Michael Jackson had died. Within minutes the jokes came flooding through from various sources. Out of respect, I'll not repeat them here. But my hand is forced.

We went for a Curry at a nearby Indian restaurant. I had steak and salad, the rest had a collection of hot untastful shit. I'm not a fan of Indian food. Wayne paid for it which was a lovely gesture. I feel bad now for taking the piss out of him. I'll swear to turn over a new leaf and give the guy fresh start.
I'm such a bastard.

Today we're off to Bonnie Scotland, as I type in fact. Meanwhile the lorry is still at Berwick on tweed as we couldn't get it started. The AA have been called so it looks like it will be a late get in and start. Who knows we might not even have a show.

Lets see!

-- Post From My iPhone