Exmouth Marine Training Base

The second of the Corprate shows was for a function at a Royal Marines Training base. I did a few bases in Germany in 1992 and they generally are awesome gigs. I was really hoping this would be no different.

My respect for these guys holds no bounds, so having to play for them in a show made me feel somewhat humbled. But I was determined to do a great show and hopefully entertain them.

After the security checks etc (that didn't even require us to show ID? WTF!?!) we drove to the tent where the gig was, unloaded and then took a look at the stage. We were warned it was going to be small and although it was plenty big enough for the band, the dancers were going to have a fucking nightmare; and boy did we find this out later when they arrived!!

We set up and waited for sound check. It was held back on the account of Nathan, Leona and Laura arriving late. So we soundchecked the band, Wayne and Clive. Nathan, Laura and Leona's mics were checked and hoped that the levels would be sufficient for them when it came to showtime.

We hung out in the band room allocated for us. Then Anna and Pheobe arrived:

They took one look at the stage and came into the band room and opened up the dialogue with "WHY THE FUCK ARE WE HERE?" I immediatly thought, "What's wrong, it's a nice sized room out of the way, quiet with food and some drinks, what else do you need???" - Me being not to sharp on the the uptake thought they were referring to the room they'd given us to hang before the show. It was only after the tirade of sentences starting with, "I am not being funny but..." that I was to realise it was actually about the size of the stage and how John had taken the gig under the guise of us doing the show AS IS regardless of the how's and why's. I totally sympathised with them. Pheobe had had a rough night before with some personal issues and being stuck the side of the motorway on her own most of the night when her car had broken down and so was not really in the right frame of mind to be told to do the show as best you can with literally feet not meters. They were both teary-eyed as they laid to bare their beefs to Wayne, he being company manager and all!

Nathan, Laura and Leona arrived shortly after and too were not in the best frame of mind to do this show. They were late thanks to a misunderstanding but were straight on the debating techniques known as "what the fucks" The mood was tense!

The show started and after 3 songs, ALL STOP!!! There was a power failure just as I played the intro fill for Livin On Prayer. So it all went dark with just the sounds of a drum kit being played alone but slowly stuttering to a stop. It was so Spinal Tap!

Dan and Jarvis were frantically powering up the mains only for it to trip again as the equipment was being powered up one by one. It was assessed that the Dj's gear that was pushing the generator to limit. So we unplugged him and powered up and banged out the remainder of the whole show with no break because of the time it took to reset everything.

The gig went great and I played well... I think.

I pulled the kit down in super time and headed to the bar with Clive and Ian as we were staying over. Everyone else fucked off from there super sharpish showing an air of angst still prominent from the heated exchanges that occurred prior to the show.

Clive, Ian and myself proceeded to get wasted with Her Majesty's Royal Marines, and we didn't pay for one drink on account of Clive's fame! A few didn't believe he was actually The Doctor from Doctor And The Medics!

It was weird talking to these guys, I felt so humbled by their presence. There they were part of a 7000 strong Elite fighting force, willing to lay life and limb for Queen and country in the name of duty and honour. Not only that but were the Instructors of such and Elite force! To coin a phrase, SUPER FUCKING HARD BASTARDS. And then there was me... a drummer, good for all but fuck all. Yeah, I felt like a mouse amongt Lions! And yet, they were as down to earth as anyone you'd meet. All of them were total gents and damn good laugh too! 'nuff Respect!!!

Then it was time for a Champagne breakfast before bed, eh? Isn't breakfast something that is supposed to happen after bed? Regardless, I wasn't going to question it as it was uber awesome!

Clive, Ian and myself rolled back to out Barracks at around 4 am and we all went to sleep after I told them about the time I shit myself REALLY BADLY whilst trying to hold in a turd while on the phone. Not complete enough, I then relayed the 30 minute nightmare I had cleaning my ass and balls from the squidge I hath made.

Goodnight guys, sweet (but smelly) dreams!

Western (not so) Super Mare

Unlike most gigs on the tour, this one was one of the few I didn't have to be up at prick o'clock being that Western Super Mare is only a few hours away. So after a nice lay in (I get one every day when I am not gigging!) I was off to meet Ian and Clive and put the drums from my car into Clive's.


In the last few days a few revelations had occurred. Katie was told she wasn't required for the November tour and after she'd put the phone down, had Stewed over it (her blokey is called Stewart and has his own gripes with the show) called back and said that she's wouldn't do anymore shows unless she was paid up for everything outstanding and was paid on the day. They refused presumably and so that spelt the end of Katie with this show; someone that was really instrumental in all aspects of it. So it's a sad day!

Laura was told the same but took a different tact; she agreed to do all the dates she was booked for and understood the reasons. So when we arrived the mood was quite odd as everyone was talking about it.


This is one of two corporate gigs so the venue wasn't a theatre but a typical function room you'd book for a wedding reception. There was just enough space to perform the show as is but the stage was floor level and the band were on a raised section.


I set the drums up and sound checked. It was just after this that we were told that despite only 20 tickets sold and 600 given out in an attempt to make up numbers and money from bar takings, they were expecting around 100 to turn up. After two great shows in Jersey the week before, it was business as usual on Route 66.


We hung out for a few hours discussing changes to the show because of the Leona and Laura combination. Ian and Phil amused themselves by having chair races, Ian was the DON!!!! He had this awesome technique were is skinny but powerful legs would buck like Kangaroo on Speed thrusting him across the room like the Road Runner.


If there was an Olympic Sport in Chair Racing, Ian would be as good as Gold Medalist!

Shortly, it was showtime. First set done, no problems. Break, Second Set, done!

The only difference with this show as opposed to the other theatre ones is because we were floor level and playing to a gathering, people were pissed and dancing instead of watching from their seats. This is a good and bad thing as we were to find out.

We were going down well but then some pissed cow decided to come on stage and have a chat to Clive about who-the-fuck-knows while we were in the middle of a tune and thus, a choreographed routine. Dan, the soundman left the monitor desk and tried to appeal to her good, but pissed up, nature to get to fuck off the stage. It didn't look like it was going to work and so it was moments away of her being forcibly removed. Which then could have led to a whole host of problems. Mainly if she, her friends or husband/boyfriend were to take hubridge. But thankfully she obliged and fucked off!

It was then just as Wayne was giving it his Oscar award speech (the part of the show were he thanks everyone and their dog) some people were standing directly in front with their backs to him posing for a photo, this really threw him and he said something along the lines of, "Yeah, very good lads, thank you, thank you!" in a sarcastic tone.

But apart from this, it was an okay show with more than expected in terms of a turn out but still a little shit.

We packed down and headed off to the digs which were a Holiday Inn Express near Taunton. On the way we stopped at a 24 hour Asda and picked up some food/piss for a potential piss up at the digs as it had a bar.

I decided to stay in the room and get some sleep. I fell asleep watching a re-run of some Jeremy Kyle Style Justice.

The following day Phil was to inform me that Jim called him while he was in the bar asking if anyone wanted anything at the Asda we'd just come from. An hour later, he was to walk in with a pile of stuff from the "Shite" section of Asda's food category listing. Bear in mind, the Asda was just a few minutes from the Holiday Inn. When questioned as to the time it took to pick up a few items, Jim's answer will go to my grave:

"You know what it's like when you're not sure what you want so you have to go down EVERY aisle?"

Er I have to say, Jim.... NOT FUCKING REALLY!!!

For those of you that know Jim, this will come as no shock. Seriously, the guy could hold up the queue to Heaven even if the first stop once you've entered was a cloud were you could fuck whoever you wanted whist taking as many of the best drugs you could imagine with no downsides.

The trip home from Jersey

As I wasn't aware if breakfast had been arranged for later Phil and I got up at 8:30 just incase. Katie was there before us. I thought that she'd had though the same but then realised that she was up more to do with catching her plane, that she's paid for on her own, back to UK.

As I explained in the previous post, the breakfast menu was "Full English" or "Nothing" Well, there was toast and cereal too. I had my full English AND some cereal figuring that it would be a while before I got free breakfasts away from home. Slowly everyone else appeared and had their fill of Fat, Protein and Red Meat.

The buck was being passed from pillar to post about "what time" "where" and "how" regarding us leaving for the ferry port. Weirdly enough, the person asking the questions but was to know least about anything was Company Manager Wayne, a clue in the job description there folks. This took most of us back a little but wasn't to come as a surprise. But this appeared to be more of a thing of 'I don't give a fuck aboutanything because I am still pouting about yesterday' "Yesterday" being his row with Katie and being pissed off at Bill for coming on stage wearing his John Denver Wig, Glasses and Hat. Though the obvious flaw in his logic is that if he indeed didn't give a fuck, then why be the one to ask all the questions?

It was Clive that took the role of organiser and so made arrangements to meet outside at 11:00 and then walk to the Ferry port if no transport was arranged for the 12:00 check in as it was a mere 10 minute walk from the Opera House.

I walked over to the Theatre and sure enough no transportation was arranged. Nathan decided to defecate Wayne's Van a bit with some electrical tape. This basically meant making a phallic shape which provided some much needed giggle treatment from him and me.

Nathan and I decided to take a stroll to the Ferry port. We got lost along the quay but made ground eventually. We was in awe of the boats and noticed one that needed a photo.

You probably cannot see in the photo but just above the engine is the boat's name, "LIQUID ASSETS" There is a long definition for the meaning of this term but it basically means MONEY. So to have a boat called that, is it not basically saying "Oh Be-jesuz, I am fakin loaded me!"? I wonder if he/she's planning on an upgrade to the boat to be called "RICH AS FUCK"? If you got it, flaunt it eh?

At the Ferry Port, a long wait was had before we were board. While here, Dan, Nathan and I had a rather humorous (and public) conversation about the game Soggy Biscuit. But "Sticky Biccy" was to become a more preferred term. For those of you not in the know, allow me to enlighten you:

According to Wikipedia here's what's to be said about Soggy Biscuit (Sticky Biccy, although a better name, wields no results)

Soggy biscuit is a purported male masturbation game in which the participants stand around a biscuit masturbating until ejaculating on to it; the last person to do so must eat the biscuit.^[1] The game is also known in Australia as soggy Sao after the SAO brand of biscuits popular there.^[2] The term "soggy biscuit" is thought to have originated in Australia sometime in the 1960s.^[1] Although the terminology may differ slightly, the notability of the game is such that variations on the theme are referred to in popular culture, examples including Stephen Fry's The Liar, the German movie Crazy,Adam Green's song "Mozzarella Swastikas", and Skinless's song "Scum Cookie". It was also referred to in a 2009 episode of Skins and the second episode of the first series of sketch show Horne and Corden and in a 2007 episode of the web show "Dorm Life"

[edit]See also

• Circle jerk
• Hazing

I don't think I need to elaborate on this further do I? I will point out though that I have never played this game nor ever will. Just the thought of it made me piss myself though. Shame the elderly couples and the school kids on the row of seats adjacent to us didn't see the funny side to this game. Still you can't please everyone!

So it was onto the Ferry and on to UK. The crossing was meant to have been rough, puke bags were handed out, Phil and his unfeasibly weak stomach rushed to the shop to stock up on "lil' Timmy's Dicky Tummy" pills-a childrens remedy for sea sickness, and we all braced ourselves for a rocky boat trip.

FUCKING NOTHING HAPPENED! I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED! I was hoping to get some great shots of folk being thrown about, cups of tea falling on sleeping pensioners, Kids Puking over thier parents... FUCK ALL.. NOTHING!

Here's boaty pics. I felt it wouldn't have been a proper trip if I didn't take any.

After a few hours, taking God and Politics, it was back on the mainland. The was an almighty queue to get out of the Ferry port because there was beach fun day and us leaving coincided with that finishing and a busy Weymouth closing for business on a Saturday.

We eventually got going, got to Atlantic audio, loaded up keys, drums and other luggage and fucked off back to Wales... hurraaah!

Jersey Show Two

Wayne arranged for a later breakfast than the 9pm finish with the Hotel so we could have an extra hour in bed. Which was just as well because when the alarm went Phil and I responded to it with a creaking moan that you'd expect to hear if you were give a pensioner a hefty kick in the bollocks. Yeah, I could have used a different metaphor but I liked the sound (and the image) of this one.

We were the first down but were met with others from the cast some moments later. I had my usual full English, as did the others which was no surprise. In fact I think apart from the cereals, it was a choice of "Full English" or "FUCK ALL!" as the menu didn't really boast too much of a range. We didn't complain as I think that it was exactly what we were all pining for, I certainly was.

(next bit is a little about Jersey. If this interests you not, skip past)

The Hotel itself was run by a lovely woman that was originally from Northern England but lives in Florida. She is married to a Portuguese man who was the chef at the hotel. The island of Jersey has a wide mix of folk, I couldn't identify a dominant group from my observation but according to Wikipedia 40% are of British Mainland decent with the other 40% being Jersey born. The remaining 20% would be migrant workers from Portugal, Poland, Latvia, Australia etc. Like the Isle of Man, Jersey is not part of the UK but is a UK Crown Dependency which in layman's terms is they get all the good shit (Wealth, Wealthy folk and UK protection) but none of the crap (Jeremy Kyle, the people that frequent it up to Gordon Brown) It wasn't just me but several of us noticed that a lot of such migrants working in the service industry were lacking in proper manners verging on being down right rude. This behaviour regardless of the origin of the person really makes my blood boil. But on all instances much like the pussy I am, I said nothing and continued about my day under my self aware veil of cowardice.

Phil, Dan and myself took a walk into St Hellier to find a music shop as Phil needed a new tremolo arm for his guitar. After a reasonable amount of fucking around and being fucked around, we found it. A wee store by the name of Island Music (Jersey residents are called "Islanders") I took a look at some drum equipment and contemplated buying a new snare head and some sticks. It then came to me that I am a tight ass. I have enough sticks for a while and the snare head will last a lot longer before I need to change it. "Need" meaning when it breaks, but it sounds like shit at the moment. It can wait until I get home as I get discount at the shop in Swansea.

While at the Music shop, Clive called and said that he'd found a decent bike hire place as we'd arranged to go on a cycle today. His aim was to check Neolithic sites around the Island, I thought he was being his usual daft self. It was only when he produced print outs of maps and routes that I realised he was serious about cycling, busting several bollocks in the pursuit of looking at a load of rocks. So off we went.

The cycle route we took

Jim was on "full pelt" mode. Whenever the route was determined, Jim would pedal off like a man possessed into the distance. We'd eventually would catch him up at a junction sitting calmly with an air of satisfaction akin to the Hare in The Hair and the Tortoise story we were told at school. He'd ask, "which way now?"

"Right Jim, then when you get to a Church, bear lef.."

ZOOOOOOOM!!!!

"... okay then, see ya then Jim!"

I could have kept up with him but felt it unsociable as it was meant to be a group ride after all. So I stayed behind Clive for the most part, which was entertainment itself. Imagine a 6 ft 6 bloke, frizzy long hair flailing in the wind, sitting well too low on a bike so his knees were coming up above his waist puffing and panting away like the fat kid at school whenever he attempts the smallest amount of exercise. Before you chastise me for that comment, I WAS that kid at school!

After a while we got to the harbour just east of St Martin, a place called Gorey. There we had something to eat and a drink and like I mentioned earlier, were taken back by the stone like manner of the staff.

Clive figured we wouldn't bother looking one of his at his "Hippy Playgrounds" but then when looked, we realised we were very close to one. And being that on the Radio interview that morning he said he would be "spending the day cycling visiting Neolithic sites" he felt it his duty to do just that. Jim and I agreed.

We got to the site known as La Pouquelaye De Faldouet which is French for "A poor man's Stone Henge" and Clive was in his element. He taught us all about the origins and the lifestyle of the people of the time. You have to marvel at the feat of moving a 24 ton stone half a mile up hill with no machinery like we know today. We are talking about 4000 - 3250 BC here. Of course, Jim took this as an opportunity to talk about Jesus and his faith an almighty power. They woke me up to leave, I am guessing about 30 minutes later.

But piss taking aside, I loved every minute of it and was really glad Clive suggested the idea. I only wished we'd gone for longer. The only downside was the rain on the way back. Fortunately it wasn't bad enough for us to get totally soaked.

Phil had gone shopping while we were on our bike ride. He's very open about his lack of dress sense and says Jay (his misses) normally picks out his clothes being a woman and by default being way better at it. But in her absence I guess he's figured that adopting the costume style of a 60's Sci Fi series character would indeed up his social appeal.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I gave you exhibit A.

Hey Phil, William Shatner called, he wants his Captain Kirk boots back. I tried to get a decent photo of Kirk and his footwear but I couldn't, but you all know what I mean!

I had a shower and went for something to eat before show time.

The show was great and for a change it was really well sold, by far the best numbers we did all tour. And considering this was meant to be the last of the tour, it was a fitting way to go. That said, we have another two shows next week and another two, two weeks after. So the tour doesn't really end, just sort of trundles along for a few months with a show here and a show there until another tour starts around November time.

The supposed last show didn't pass without some controversy though. Just as the show was starting, Wayne took something the girls were talking about completely out of context and flipped Anna the bird and told her to, "fuck off" Literally, this was AS the show was starting. Anna started bawling and Nathan walked off quite pissed off and told him to "Have a good fucking show!!!" Katie then followed Wayne, who then himself walked off, and told him to "Loose the attitude!!!" It was quite tense. I feel he'll have the last laugh of all this, quite unjustifiably too!

After the show, we went back to the hotel and had a few stiff drinks before bed. Nathan and Clive tried to get me and Phil to go round his room and continue to get fucked up. Clive thought that pulling off my duvet would work, it didn't and so he left and by all accounts burned the midnight oil until about 4 am.

Jersey show one

The day (if you can call it day) started okay despite having only 3 hours sleep, I was awake with little effort at 2 am. I resisted the urge to snooze for 10 minutes/an hour which I thought was quite commendable considering how tired I was feeling. I referred to it as 10 minutes/1 hour for good reason, if I had snoozed off for 10 minutes, I would have woken at least an hour later at 3 am and fucked everything up, it was not going to happen today!

I checked my todo list:

1. Clothes (check)

2. Wash-bag (check)

3. Passport ID (check)

4. Phone (check)

5. Wallet (check)

6. House Keys (check)

7. Cock (check)

8. Balls (check)

9. Dignity (rescheduled)

... jumped in the car and was off to Tredegar to meet Ian and Clive. It's quite sublime how quiet everything is at that time of the morning. In variably I am coming home at this time and with a whole day and a show behind me, I never stop to notice the tranquility. I don't think I saw any sign of life at all until at Ian's where I was greeted by street-lit Clive and Ian waiting for me. They had this appearance like they had been there for an hour and were quite pissed off. But I was merely 5 mins later than my planned arrival time and they weren't pissed off at all, at least I don't think so!?

The drive down to Weymouth flew past. Ian slept for a lot of the way, occasionally waking for a power-fag* whenever we stopped at a petrol station or services for fuel, coffee or just a small break. The quote for the day happened during the drive down. It is as follows:

"That (Charles) Dickens and (J. R. R.) Tolkein, what a pair of Cunts!" - Rev Dr. Clive Jackson

As we were a little early, we decided to call in at Phil's for a coffee before heading off to the Ferry port. The coffee didn't come! Jay, Phil's better half, was meant to take Wayne (who had stayed at Phil's) and Phil to the Ferry port at 8 am but as we had arrived, they jumped into Clive's vehicle and saved Jay the hassle so she could return to her slumber. I could hear her snoring as we left.

At the Ferry terminal we were ushered our boarding cards and before I knew it we were sailing to Jersey. At first, Phil, Clive, Ian and Andrew were sat at the kiddies area patiently waiting for the cartoons but were ushered out for a section 1 violation of the Children's Animated Entertainment Act 1983. Which was namely because we weren't kiddies and this was a kiddies cartoon area! Bah Humbug, Cartoons - DENIED!

Instead we decided to sit where we were supposed to and had some breakfast c/o John Mills. That said, I couldn't be arsed with the wait and bought my own, it was quite nice too and despite usually food on cross channel Ferries being well expensive, it was pretty reasonable so, BONUS!!!

On the crossing over, most of us elected to sleep, I didn't nor did a handful of the cast and decided to keep ourselves entertained with witty banter and piss taking galore.

Once at Jersey, we got to the hotel and checked in. Most decided to find a pub or restaurant but I decided to catch up on some sleep before the 4 p.m. build up time. I tried to sleep, perhaps succeeded for a bit but ultimately was much worse off when 4 p.m. came. Nathan helped with some "pick me the fuck up" pills he has; a concoction of caffeine, more caffeine and cocaine presumably!!! It worked I'll say but it gave me that weird feeling of still feeling seriously fucked but with a heart rate of 150 pm!

After build up and sound check, I went off to have something to eat. I chose a full roast chicken to myself and that's it, I felt like Asterix!

Then it was showtime. I was still feeling less than normal for the show but didn't think it would effect me, I was wrong. I generally played ok but wasn't feeling good. I was fucking up little things that I expect weren't noticed by the band or anyone else were really pissing me off. Other annoying things like the sticks not staying perfectly in my hands, so I had to keep adjusting my grip on them mid beat. It's like I want longer sticks so subconsciously I am holding them with the butt in my palm. Technically in drumming terms, this is referred to as "Totally Fucking Wrong!"

Then in the second half the click track was started too late. By which time Phil had already made an exec decision and counted the song in for us to play it live. With the track out of sync with the band, I tried to tell Dan to tell Greg out front to stop the click track. But he needed the track to keep playing for the video screens so I had to throw the cans off my head and have no monitors. Meanwhile, Wayne is trying to find his place where to sing, stopping then starting again while the track is changing behind us at different points of the song. Needless to say the result was likened to Zoo on fire!

There other fuck ups too, namely in Don't Wanna Miss A Thing and in The finale. Dan decided to play a practical joke and filled the Jack Daniel's bottle that is the source of the Shots for the show (usually filled with Apple Juice) with copious amounts of Salt and Pepper. Leading to Clive, Phil and Katie having rather humorous if not painful stage moments. All in all, I think it was the worst show technically we have done this year. BUT in complete contrast it went down a storm. In fact, it was probably the best received show we have done ever, quite Ironic!

After the show, as we didn't need to pull down, we left and went straight to the pub across the road from the hotel. I had one drink and went straight to bed.

*POW•ER FAG - noun

The act of consuming cigarette(s) after a anxious wait within quite a limited time frame. This is typical of the cheeks being sucked in upon inhalation and on many occasions the lit part of the cigarette tapering to a orange tip almost the length of the cigarette itself: a traffic cone.

Le Cirque Grande

Hello again my faithful flock!

Man, how self satisfying do I sound? Marks out of 10 please in the comments section 1 being "woe is me, I am shit" 10 being "I am Jesus Christ incarnate"

Route 66 "tour" is a funny term I have come to realise. It's now no more a tour than playing up the valleys' social club scene every Friday and Saturday (something I have done for yeaaaars) is a "tour" I'll have to bare that in mind:

Coming soon, THE ELECTRIX WINTER TOUR 2009/10

Friday 4th Dec - Bleangwynfi Social

Saturday 5th Dec - Merthyr Labour

Friday 11th Dec, Cwmfelin Social

Saturday 12 th Dec, Llandewibreffi Working Gay Men's club (private party)

Etc...

So, after a gig I find myself with two more days off. Again when days off far out weigh days ON it makes you wonder...

After Port Talbot show, Martin (who sometimes does R66 lights) was in the Grand Theatre this week with Le Cirque Grande and very kindly offered me some comps if I fancied seeing the show, I obliged!

I took my Mum and Dad, it would turn out to be the third show in a row this week, Cavern Beatles on Monday, Route 66 on Tuesday and now Le Cirque Grande on Wednesday, they've become a regular set of groupies!

After just getting back from my 3 hour bike ride which felt like Frodo's trek into Mordor, I return covered in mud and sweat and I had 10 mins to get ready to get to The Grand Theatre. I met Martin at the Foyer, got the tickets and proceeded into the bar for drink. Mum and Dad elected to sit in the stalls for 20 minutes. They were almost like the random folk that you'd see in a hospital waiting room, you know that vacant stare in expectancy of something traumatic? Well, they were displaying that!

Once the show got underway, with the quintessential Clown (a very good one at that!) it was curtains up and bam, the stage was alight with movement so frantic it was hard to decide what to look at. The thing that struck me most, was the lighting. Martin if you're reading this, the lights looked fucking awesome dude!

For the next two hours the show format went something like this:

Lots of crazy shit, demonstrations of feats of human strength and agility the like that would make your jaw drop..

Clown bit

More Crazy feats of strength, agility

Clown bit

Strength, agility

Bit more Clown

Lot more Strength, lots more agility

Interval - PUB!

The second half was much the same. Overall, it was a very entertaining show. Visually excellent and like I said, you cannot help but marvel at the strength and grace of the performers. In the Circus of Horrors we have a few folk that have similar skills, but these gave 30 + with all similar if not much better acrobatic skills.

But the Circus Of Horrors is not really to be compared, it's much more a shock and roll (their words not mine) spectacle so there's no point in comparing. That said, I'd seriously come to see the Circus Of Horrors. If traditional Circus is your thing, then you'd love Ksusha Vesloski if nothing else, that Girl is incredible... and HOT too!!! (below - Ksusha Vesloski from The Circus Of Horrors)

There's no band with Le Cirque Grande but the music was excellent. I was later to find out that the show is all on loops, who needs a band these days? The loops were so well synced that it does question whether the Circus Of Horrors needs a band and although with these modern programs, it's no way as Rock and Roll, so there's hope for us mere musicians still. But going back to Le Cirque Grand, I suggest you go and see it. It's better than sitting in the house, occasionally wanking to Hollyoaks and watching Eastenders if things have really hit a low!

Tomorrow we head off to Jersey for two shows. I think it's officially the end of the tour despite there being a few shows at the end of the month a the odd one or two in August. Being that Clive, Ian and I have to be at Weymouth Ferry Port for 8:00 for sail at 9:00, being that it;s 3 and half hours from Ian's house Wales and Ian's house is 45 minutes from mine. So in Yankee terms, "Do that Math!" (For fuck sake) That means, yes folks, I pretty much have to stay awake all fucking night! But hopefully I might get some kip in the car, but I doubt it.

See you in Jersey.

Port Toilet... I mean, I mean Port Talbot

A quick shout out to a new reader: Hello to you Becky Mahoney - Biker Chick, Take's No Shit and is as hardcore as a core... that is hard.. or something?!

I hope you like my shower of shit that is a tour blog in disguise!

Ah, again after a break I find myself back on the tour. This one being almost local to me as Port Talbot is merely 10 miles from Swansea. I did the normal thing of inviting as many friends as I could think of that would be able to come. Typically none of them even replied. Now, I am not bothered really, I mean, each to their own. But it's the same lot that give me hassle for not playing locally as they'd love to come as see me. This show in question would be the third time I have put a shout out that I am playing locally and yet.......(silence)

I got to the gig around 3 ish. Said hello to all the cast that were there. I decided to have a walk into the precinct with Phil and Ian. We grabbed a coffee and chatted about life and shit (the shit was to come later) Phil explained that he needed to take control of his work/life affairs and in doing so has quit smoking. Good for him!

Got back to the gig and started setting up the drums. While there I was discussing my last blog with Dan; he finds my accounting of Gay Pride 2009 very funny. I guess from a straight point of view referring to the folk that frequent such an event as "freaks" "attention seeking cunts" in acts of "look at me, I am GAAAY!" can be humorous. But from a Gay point of view, it's down right offensive and arguably complete untruth. It then occurred to me that Nathan reads this blog and I am in fact in danger of seriously offending him. Fuck now I have done it. I ramble on sometimes and my brain spouts out this shit. It's only then when someone takes offence does it mortify me, I never want to offend anyone ever. Especially people that I consider friends that I care about.

So what do I do? Do I delete it hoping that he's not read it yet? Do I explain to him that it's not really what I think even though he'd probably made his mind up or do I carry on and think "fuck it, it's what I think like it or leave it!" Honestly is the best course I find, so here goes.

It's not what I think. A have lots of gay friends of both gender. I think of them no different than anyone else, they are my friends, I love them and some of them I would die for if it would save their lives (Hi Mandie) Some of them I personally think play too much on the gay thing needlessly. That what I think; I don't go on about being straight so why go on about being Gay? But that said, I am not in an informed position to be absolute on this because I am not gay and have not gone through the life they have lead being gay. So free as I am to think this, it's an opinion best kept unless asked for.

My comments on Gay Pride was merely and instinctive rant based on my experience at the time: being late as fuck and in a major hurry and finding myself surrounded by such colourful characters. One of which nearly pierced my eardrums with his whistle. So upon reflection and finding it funny, I thought I'd mention it in the blog for merely the humour of it, not because it's exactly what I think, just my reaction at the time.

I am sorry if I offended you Nath, honestly! On to the gig.

After a long soundcheck rehearsing songs (Katie was being covered by Leona) it was off to the Pub with Clive, Aussie (Clive's son - no he's not from Australia) Clive's mate who's name escapes me, Ian, Phil, Andrew, Jarvis and Dan. It was Clive's birthday and I felt a shit for not getting him anything. I was planning to, it's the thought that counts anyway. I will get him something before we get to Jersey!

We got back to the gig and waited for the show. Backstage it was revealed one of us did a dirty big shit and it wouldn't flush. This is referred to in the Viz Prophanasaurus as several things: a Dreadnaught, Dead Otter, Fallen Log, A Waiting Croc, A Floater, Ali At Sea etc. Clive was the one to point it out so I was intent to get a photo of it.

You can see that it's got a GREEN tint to it. I did some checking up online about why a piece of botty chocolate could be green in colour, and this is what I found. If you're not interested, just skip past.

There can be many reasons why stool appears to be green. The first and most obvious reason is eating green foods. Green, leafy vegetables contain chlorophyll which could be coloring the stool green. Foods with dark purple coloring like Kool-Aid, popsicles, and gelatin (Jell-O) can also result in rainbow-colored stools. Iron supplements or even foods that are rich in iron can also give stool a green tinge.

Stool can also appear green for physical reasons, and not just from what you've been eating. We think of a healthy stool as being brown. Bile that is secreted in the first part of the small intestine is actually green. As stool is digested and passed through the large intestine it is turned into a darker brown color.

If stool is still green by the time it is excreted, it could mean that it went through the large intestine too fast to be changed in color. This is often called "rapid transit" or "decreased colonic transit time" and diarrhea that is green in color could be the result.

My mum and dad were coming tonight so that was cool. We only sold 50 tickets... er, that's not so cool! Another day on Route 66. They called to say they were here and had got the tickets ok. On with the show.

First half went fine and Leona did a great job doing Katie's bit. At half time I went out to speak to my mam and dad. They were very complimentary about the show, they were loving it. It came as some surprise as my mother is quite critical of things if it's less than what she calls perfect, but not in this case. In fact they both thought the band, the singers and the dancers were all excellent. It was mirrored by other folk there were there outside having a fag while the break was on. It goes to show, there's a decent product there, it just needs to be sold better than it is.

Second half went much like the first. Except while trying to spin the blastick in the 2 and 4 of a beat playing at 200 + bpm, I dropped it. Dan and Nathan found this very funny! I felt like a twat. Even more so when Nath walked past and called me a "stupid plonker" or something equally cutting. Needless to say, I felt just that

After the show, we packed down like it was any other gig. I didn't catch my mum and dad before they went back to Swansea but I knew I would see them later anyway. Everything done, I jumped in the car and went home.

Helmut's Stag Do in London, during Gay Pride!!!

Dear Folks,

Having three days off between shows (until recently that was unbeknown to me but let's not dwell on that) I figured that I could attend Hemut's stag do in London on Saturday 4th that I had been invited to but thought at the time I couldn't attend because I had Route 66 shows in Scotland (or so I thought, but let's not dwell on that) Firstly. this is Clem Hannibal Helmurto

Yeah, I know he looks a bit scary but believe me when I say he's the nicest person in the world (with exception to Chilo, she's the nicest person in the Galaxy!) He's from Munich - Gemany but currently resides on these noble shores. Most of the year he's a piercer in Camden Town but by night, ...DAH DAH DAAAAGHN!!! (like them old horror movies) he performs with The Circus Of Horrors. His act is very much shock and awe, never mind that Yankee-blow the shit up and let's hope all the poor brown people will love us for it-bollocks, this is the real deal. He does the typical circus stuff like swallowing swords (incredibly difficult that is too) but he actually skewers himself through the face 4 times per night. If that's not enough, his Pièce de résistance is skewering himself through the back with two meat hooks and hanging from a ceiling. This, he assures me, is extremely painful and is exactly how it is. Because of the frailty of the skin on the back, he's limited to do this every other day needing time for it to heal.

And here's the holes in his back... ouch!

Anyway, here's Asia (pronounced "asha")

No, not the dude on the left, the dudette on the right. She's Hemut's fiancé. She too is in the Circus Of Horrors, certainly more for the eye candy appeal rather than any artistic contribution but she does a wee bit of Circus esque theatre for good measure. Namely hanging by her neck from a sward also from the Ceiling (what is it with these guys and their ceilings eh?) but I digress. She's Polish but you'd not know from talking with her. She's spent so long, over here, taking our jobs, council houses, place in the Chemist Queue WOAH, RIGHT WING STEVE... DOWN BOY (WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!) DOWN BOY AND DON'T COME OUT UNTIL TEA TIME!!! (there's a piece on local news about Indians and arranged marriages at 5 p.m.... can't wait!!!) Er, yeah Asia spent so long over here that her accent has mutated. When I first met her in 2007 she sounded Scottish to me, so there you go.

These two lovely folk are tying the knot on the 10th. I was very honoured to be invited to what looks like will be an amazing wedding (in a Cave... I shit yee not!) but gutted that I couldn't due to Route 66 being in Jersey that day. Anyway, as the Dundee and Dunoon dates were pulled from me without me knowing (DON'T DWELL ON IT STEVE!!!) I figured the least I could do it show up at his Stag do on the Saturday prior. So I called Haze (he's the old letchy rocker dude in that picture) to announce my attendance. He was chuffed I could make it.

So with ticket booked @£69 return (ouch) off to The Smog I was. 3 hours later I had arrived. The Stag do was planned at Covent Garden which is walking distance from London Paddington but with the time I had to get there, I elected to get a tube.

At Covent Garden, I was shocked to find loads and loads of, for want of a better term, freaks! I couldn't figure out the occasion but it was a carnival or something. Then it hit me, it's Gay Pride 2009. Oh my god, what a load of pretentious twats, dressed up like the display screen of a fucked computer blowing whistles and banging pots, pans and anything annoying to the average straight guy in a panic to get somewhere.. i.e. ME!

I was checking a map for a tube station, quite deeply distracted by it to notice one of these "look at me, I'm GAAAAAY" twats coming to my right. "BEEEEEP!!!" with his whistle right by my ear. "FUCKING HELL!!" I shouted and jumped up, with the shock I pushed a little bit out. "You stupid twat!" I said to him/her/it/what-the-fuck-ever-it-was. He looked at me like I was shit on his shoe. I mean, Seriously, if I was gay and proud of it, I wouldn't come here!!! I have at least 4 friends that come every year, they tell me about it and I think, "Meh, live and let live" But I am going to do my utmost to stay "to fuck away" from anything like this again. Fucking attention seeking cunts!

That aside, there was come really cool stage acts, performers and arty type stuff going. I highly recommend it! Shame I was in a hurry and couldn't hang about to smell the flowers.... there were lots of 'em.

After being submersed in Queens galore, I headed off to Shaftsbury Avenue. There I met Haze, Helmut and Co. Helmut was overjoyed to see me, he didn't know I was coming so it was a big surprise for him. He was a little disappointed more of Circus cast couldn't come for one reason or other so with Mongy, Haze and myself we were to represent The Lollypop Guild.... or Circus Of Horrors to be more precise.

Part of the night was to see a show. I knew nothing of it but went along with the plan. The show was called Avenue Q. As the lights went down, I asked Haze what it's all about, "It's a Puppet show! hahaha!" I laughed, thinking it was a joke as it usually is with Haze. The fucker was telling the truth, it was a puppet show! A stag do, at a puppet show. Woah hold on to your panty-hoes, it's party time! these guys really know how to rock! I sat there thinking, "what the fuck have I agreed to?" But I will say, that it was very cleverly done with some good music, albeit typical musical theatre stuff. There were plenty of laughs too.

BUT...

it's essentially Sesame street but with swearing a little bit of shagging.

Sesame Street

Shagging!

After the show I went off to a pub called The Intrepid Fox. It's a total Biker/Heavy Metal/Got pub. Mongy was almost not allowed in for being too smart. For those who know him and the way he dresses, will no doubt find this very funny. In the pub, Haze and I tried our hardest to get Helmut pissed, man that guy can take some beer! Anyway, I had the pleasure of meeting his friend. This friend was a Transvestite.

Here's one! In case you were wondering what they are.

I can't remember his/her name but he introduced himself something like this, "Hello I am Roxy, but you call call me Bernard if you want!" Which was funny if not confusing. During our very brief conversation I was to discover 3 surprising facts about Roxy, I mean, Bernard.. whatever! He's a trumpet player, ok not so weird. He's got a gorgeous super model looking girlfriend of some sort, jammy bastard and HOW?!? But here's the kicker, he's a Brain Surgeon! Now, put all four together and you'd have to admit, that's remarkable.

1. Tranny

2. Hot Misses

3. Plays trumpet

4. Brain Surgeon.

Just 3 and 4 are enough, could you think of anything as far removed?

After this, we ended up having to catch a bus to a club somewhere. No idea where but it was close to Central Point. After several more hours, Mongy almost ending up in a punch up with some pissed twat as well as getting his tiny cock out to show us that it's indeed "forked" through a Circus Accident. Eventually it was time to get out of there as it was approaching 5 am. We got a taxi which cost £36, it's London after all = more expensive because its better than anywhere else.

I was to stay at Haze's house in Wimbledon. His home is awesome, he's got one of them "It's a book case, oh wait a minute, pull this book and it opens up a secret room...ooooOOOH!" Only that this secret room happens to be his kitchen.

We sat and chatted for a while about erectile disfunction before I was shown my sleeping quarters and went to bed at around 6 am. I and was out of there by 10:30 to get the train home. A very enjoyable, memorable evening was had by all. Best wishes go to Helmut for the future, I'll no doubt see him in October for the Circus tour. Unless of course something unexpected happens.

Back to Route 66 in Port Talbot on Tuesday. The only date that is likely ever to be close enough for my parents to come and see. I hope I don't play like a twat.