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.
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