Ahoy there shipmates!
Another weekend, another fine pair of evenings spent making a racket, jumping around like a twat, and generally having a marvellous time. Both Emma and I agreed that we can’t remember what normal people do for fun on a night out, ‘cos this is so much better.
Mind you, we also agreed that we should change the band name to “Pottymouth Infidel and the Conspicuous Ninjas”, so that gives you an idea of the kind of intellect you’re dealing with here.
Friday at the Packhorse was immense fun, and – thanks to it being one of the regular’s birthday, there was a large buffet arrayed on a table. It is codified in law that musicians are entitled to partake in any food which is displayed within 50 feet of them…so we did.