Tag Archives: yate

29-01-2019 – Disco Dave, Japan And The Power Slide

Hola homeys!

It’s always nice to see old friends, particularly when they bring you an ultra-cool pressie :-).

Saturday’s jaunt to the Albion House Club in Cheltenham was graced by the presence of my dear and long-standing friend Disco Dave, whom we haven’t seen for a couple of years on account of him working on the wrong side of the world.

And a very pleasant evening we all had, despite a somewhat worrying start…

Our lovely Em was arriving separately to the rest of us, and a little later, and so we duly rolled up, set up the kit, and waited. Start time came and went, and there is still no sign of our sparkly chanteuse. A quick call reveals that although she is quite close, but “the police have shut the road off” – and this being Cheltenham, and a one-way labyrinth at the best of times, it’s not easy to find another way in. READ MORE

21-01-2019 – Plankocasters And The Wig

Good grief, Charlie Brown…

That was an exciting week and no mistake!

For one thing, I had a birthday in the middle of it – for the curious amongst you, I can reveal that my age is now officially “not dead yet”.

And I was particularly delighted to be sent a large and luxurious custom birthday card from my favourite Pighillians, featuring a stunning Triumph Bonneville with a fetching blonde lady (actually somewhat reminiscent of my dear Dem in her younger years) astride it, and – this had to be pointed out to me – a rather handsome chap lurking in the background. READ MORE

15-01-2019 – Told You So Special

Yo homeys

Well, that’s back to normality (or what passes for normality, at any rate). Friday night at the Blue Lagoon was gratifyingly busy considering it’s early January, and I managed to wangle just enough stage space to be able to use my pointy guitar for a change; something which makes me rather happy.


If only because it gives me an excuse to show a picture of it… Ain’t she purty?

“Our clients” behaved just as expected, i.e. with much dancing around, spilling of drinks, and dropping of glasses. For entertainment value, Em and I mentally awarded the prize to a group of gyrating lads who had obviously had dancing described to them at some point, but had clearly never actually seen it done.

Saturday night, and a jaunt out to the very welcoming Golden Fleece in Bath, to wheel out some of the noisier side of the repertoire. And we had an absolute blast, with much messing about and tomfoolery going on. The crowd were lovely, and even the table of somewhat senior customers (and this is me saying that) right at the front seemed to being enjoying themselves. We were particularly impressed by the nice white-haired lady who was jigging around in her seat and singing along, pausing only occasionally to get up and hobble across to the bar to get herself another beer in. “I’m seventy nine next month”, she told me as she came past, “And I’m having a lovely time”. We’re considering adopting her as the band’s official mum.

Even a technical hitch, involving my lovely guitar sound disappearing and being replaced by an ominous rhythmic buzzing didn’t slow us down; Emma simply went out to harassed the “clients” individually, and sang some impromptu requests while I frantically tried to diagnose the problem, failed, dug out the necessary leads to plug in to my spare amp, set it up only to find the fault was still there, and only THEN eventually figured out the actual cause, disconnected the offending pedal and reconnected the main amp again before being rewarded with my beautiful restored guitar tone [Editor’s note: this was a told you so moment as yours truly said it was a pedal at the start of the problem]. Just in time to save Em from having to attempt an a capella version of the Oasis song she’d been requested to do.

So we were able to happily romp through the rest of the set, and play a couple of hugely fun encores, before slumping into a happy exhausted heap while we mustered the energy to pack everything up.

Hooray for rock & roll!

Coming up next weekend – two more rather fine outings…

Friday 18th – The Packhorse, Lawrence Hill
Lovely cosy and friendly biker’s pub. We played here a while before Christmas, and thoroughly enjoyed it. We think they did too, ‘cos they asked us back.

Sunday 20th – The Crown, Staple Hill
Next door to Ben’s gaffe, and a 6:30 start so we can all still be tucked up in beddy byes by ten*, ready for school in the morning. Rawk and roll, hey?

Right, that’ll do, I’m off to see the wizard, now.

The wonderful wizard of Beer…

Square on

*Contrary to popular belief, Angel Up Front do NOT in fact all sleep together in an oversized bed, each wearing a set of blue and white striped pyjamas and a nightcap. #thetruth.

07-01-2019 – Ice Say, It’s The End Of The Year

Well, a Merry New Year to all our readers, and possibly even our reindeers, come to think of it.

Sorry we didn’t manage to get one of these out last week – I nipped away for a few days; in fact, I’ve been to the land of the ice and snow (of the midnight sun where the hot springs flow), and mighty good fun it was, too – and only just got back.

We hope you all had a splendiferous festive season – I think we did, it was all a bit of a blur, really. I do recall that I had some very strange technical issues at the Farmhouse in Yate, in that my rig made a horrendous loud buzzing noise, but only when I stood in front of it – the noise went away completely if I stood to one side facing the wall; and since we could find no other solution, that’s exactly what had to do for most of the gig. So – apologies to anybody that was there, who just assumed I was being aloof and moody all night; I wasn’t (at least, not more than usual) – it was down to technical necessity.

Christmas Eve at the Sandringham in Downend featured no such technical difficulties, and a mighty fine audience of under-sevens, who thoroughly enjoyed themselves and made the most of playing with the various finger lights, tambourines, and inflatable guitars to be found in our toybox. We appear to have morphed into some kind of rock’n’roll daycare organisation – a situation not helped by Ben, the Uncle Chuckle-Trousers Of Rock, singing Sharp Dressed Man whilst sporting a woolly hat with elf ears and a full set of beard baubles.

If you have seen Angel Up Front’s credibility, please contact us via the website. A small reward is available.

A night at the Queen Vic up in Stroud didn’t disappoint either. Although it was lovely to see some old chums there again, once again our Ben seemed to be the centre of attention. During one particularly crunchy number, I found myself alone and unnoticed on one side of the stage, playing an intricate (and, I thought, rather artful) solo. Meanwhile, over on stage left, Ben is surrounded by an appreciative coterie of whooping and hollering middle-aged ladies who are transfixed by his “waving his long hair about” technique.

Emma and I have decided to get some business cards printed off to hand out on future occasions, bearing the legend, “Ben Brook – Entertainer Of Ladies – bass-player, vocalist, and mane-tosser”, with his phone number.

That should keep him busy for a while.

New Year’s Eve up at the Royal Oak in Chipping Sodbury was an unmitigated delight, we saw out 2018 with a pub-full jumping up and down to Blitzkrieg Bop, and a few minutes later brought 2019 in with Tenacious D’s “Tribute” – because we can. I mean, it’s not the greatest song in the world…. Except when sometimes it is.

Right then, coming up this weekend, a couple more doozies…

Friday 11th – Blue Lagoon, Bristol
You may not know (I didn’t) that Blue Lagoon is also the name of a famous outdoor geothermal spar pool in Iceland, where indeed I spent most of last Friday, neck deep in toasty warm water, clutching a cold beer and watching the sun set at 2pm over the mountains. That was nice. This one is also nice, but in a completely different way.

Saturday 12th – Golden Fleece, Bath
Lovely little bikery pub, but everyone’s welcome. Think we’ll probably dust off some of the rockier numbers for this one.

Right, that’s your lot for now, I have many real life things to try and catch up on. If anybody remembers real life, do stop by and feel free to give me a few hints…

Square on

18-12-2018 – Last Blast For This Year With Stairs

Ho, ho, and, indeed, ho.

And a warm welcome to this festive, and almost certainly last edition this year, of our regular-ish gig blog.

I didn’t manage to put one of these out last week, which I shall blame on time constraints, as “incompetence” is such an ugly word, isn’t it? I can, however, dimly recall a few snippets of the last couple of gigs…

It turns out that the Packhorse in Lawrence Hill is indeed still run by the Angels, and a mighty friendly bunch they were, we all had a jolly fine time, and will be back there again next year. As I write this, it’s only just occurred to me that possibly one reason we were so popular was that – due to driving constraints – we didn’t take too much advantage of their mighty fine   “free beer for musos” policy (one which, as regular readers will know, I have been a staunch supporter of for many years).

The following night, a corporate Christmas party in a posh bistro right in the centre of swanky Cheltenham, had a rather different vibe.

We arrived, and, miraculously found two parking spaces right outside the back of the venue. Hurrah! Then upon gaining entry to the place, we find that we are to be playing in a function room up two flights of stairs. Boo!

Ben pales visibly at the thought of exercise. I decide we must invoke what is known in the band as “Rum Bar protocol” (named after a venue for which access is gained only via three flights of rickety iron outdoor fire escape), which basically means all spare and not-absolutely-necessary equipment is sifted out and left locked in the van at Base Camp, so that no backup amps or speaker cabs, leads, etc need be manhauled up to higher altitudes. Spare batteries are grudgingly permitted, as is the muttered refrain “I wish I’d learned the $%^ing piccolo”.

After a prolonged period of stumping up and down, we decide there is just enough kit up there, and slowly moods improve as we set up.

Once we start, it turns out that the crowd are very much up for it; we particularly enjoyed one very serious-looking lady (think “senior librarian”) who, immediately we started, began dancing in a most extravagant and enthusiastic fashion – we suspect she doesn’t get out that much. After a while, everybody else joins in. Finally the very pleasant staff are begging us to stop playing so that they can pack up and go home.

Having packed up, and taken full advantage of their expensive-looking buffet to give us the necessary strength, we have just enough energy to haul all the kit back down to ground level and bully it back into the vehicles before shambling off into the night.

Right then, coming up next – here’s our full Festive Season Itinererererary, for your delectation and delight: –

Saturday 22nd – Farmhouse, Yate
Not played here for quite some time, and what with it being the official drinking season, should be rather lively. And there are no stairs involved.

Monday 24th – The Sandringham, Downend
Christmas Eve at the Sandy (as I am pretty sure absolutely nobody calls it), we did this one last year and had a very fine time. So we’re expecting to do the same again, frankly. And there are no stairs involved.

Saturday 29th – Queen Vic, Stroud
Ooh, I’d actually totally forgotten about this gig until I looked at the list to write this. Marvellous! One of our favourite regular gigs, I’m actually beginning to get excited already. With a bit of luck, I might be able to get my beloved Dem along as well, just to scare the locals a bit. And there are no stairs involved.

Monday 31st – Royal Oak, Chipping Sodbury
New Year’s Eve, a nice lively little pub, and us. What’s not to like? And – now here’s a thing – there are no stairs involved.

And, that’ll be about it for this year; I’d like to say thanks to all the lovely and entertaining people we’ve met along the way, we’ve had a blast – and I like to think that maybe on the odd occasion we’ve actually managed to entertain some people along the way (in addition to ourselves).

Finally, I have to say huge thanks to my bandidos Stuart, Emma, and Ben, who make the whole enterprise such a joy and a delight – despite the occasional stairs, I really don’t know what I’d do without the opportunity to regularly prance about making a dreadful noise with a bunch of like-minded idiots.

Very much looking forward to doing it all over again next year….

Square on

19-06-2017 – The Twat In A Hat And Other Stories

Greetings, my little summer breezes.

Well, that was a mighty busy weekend – 3 gigs, we haven’t done one of those for ages.

We were most looking forward to Friday’s trip up to a bike rally up near Tewkesbury, a roomy hall, with a nice big stage, and – if Thursday’s rehearsal was anything to go by, we are indeed a talented and capable group of musos. And, as you can see, somewhat the model of sartorial elegance…

Twat in a hat

Well, the hall was indeed roomy – perhaps a little too much so at the beginning, given the somewhat limited size of the audience when it came to be time to start playing. (If you’re reading this – Hi, Paul!).

Something about the shape of the room made the acoustics particularly diabolical – from the onstage standpoint, at any rate – thus we were struggling to hear ourselves, let alone each other; and my beautiful stack of high-quality speakers and boutique valve amplification managed to sound exactly like a £5 practice amp (albeit, to be fair, massively louder).

The stage was indeed big. It was also unnecessarily flexible, and much given to sagging if you jumped around – or, it transpired, breathed too hard. The consequences of this became apparent on the third song in, when Ben’s bass suddenly went extremely quiet. We looked around, to see that his amp has toppled over, nosediving on to the stage, ripping all the cables out on the way down. A brief interlude for swearing is followed by reassembly of the once-mighty Tower Of Bass, and – to our relief and surprise – it still seems to be working.

Nonetheless, the incident rather spooked us, so over the course of the next few songs Emma managed a complete forgot-the-lyrics meltdown, whilst I struck a complete mental blank in one song, knowing what it should sound like but unable to remember where my fingers should go to create the desired effect – so I just guessed. I guessed wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. Most the punters didn’t even notice, but I received an icy glare from Stuart so severe that I still have the blisters.

Somehow we got to the end of the night with a happy crowd, and – after a momentary collapse-in-a-heap and a sigh of relief, we loaded up and skulked away into the night.

Saturday afternoon, and after a nice long lie in I feel ready to try again. Poor Ben has had to work today, so the moment he finishes he hotfoots it round to mine, we set off and – remarkably – arrive in good time for our set at the New Crown Inn’s summer festival in Bath.

And then we wait, as they are (inevitably) running late. Finally it’s our turn, we throw our kit onstage, plug in, and start playing. Remarkably, despite being outdoors, with only half the amps set up to save time, and no soundcheck, it all sounds rather good, and we are able to get through the set without disasters. Then, we’re done – a quick encore, followed by frantic packing up, as we have only half an hour to get to the next gig. Whilst three of us are charging about winding up cables, packing cymbals away, etc, Emma is briefly surplus to requirements.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.

“Scrounge food”, I tell her.

Two minutes later, as Ben and I scurry past laden with guitar cases and a bags of cables, a juicy burger is thrust into each of our hands. I love that woman.

Everything into the van, a squeal of tires, and we are away, zipping off up the A4 towards Kingswood for our date with destiny at the Jolly Cobblers, and dribbling onions along the way.

Thanks to some slightly illegal driving, and Ben’s satnav Theresa (she doesn’t know where she’s going, and keeps making u-turns), we get there just in time, set everything very efficiently up, and start playing. This time we have all our kit set up as usual, none of it falls over, and it all sounds lovely again – after Friday, I was beginning to worry – and, thanks to some audience participation from the affable local “Jesus”, who bullies his mates (or “disciples” as we dub them) into having fun, it’s a very jolly evening. Poor Ben is absolutely hanging with exhaustion by the end, but is persuaded by the rather excellent jukebox to stay and have an unwind pint.

And so to bed – well, after a cheeky beer or two at home, anyways – reflecting on how nice it is that we seem to be back on form again. All I have to do now is remember how the songs go.

Coming up – a rest for the next couple of weeks – but we’ll be back soon, we have a bunch more tunes lined up to learn (plus, of course the ones that we currently play – we’ll be needing to learn them, too, I suppose…).

In the meantime, here are some philosophical words of wisdom from a well-known sage and one-time governor of California, a certain Mr A Schwarzenegger…

“Having more money doesn’t make you happier. I have $50 million, but I’m just as happy as when I only had $48 million.”

If you have any spare cash you don’t need, please send it to us by return email. We’re planning an important socioeconomic experiment to see if Mr Schwarzenegger’s theory is correct…

Square on

13-06-2017 – Whiteboard Affection

Well hello there, my little inflatables…

And I’m glad to report that we’re now finally up to full strength, and what passes for normality around these parts can be resumed.

As Friday, and Emma’s debut gig with us, loomed large, it was almost inevitable that she’d contract a nasty coldy flu-y chest-infectiony thing, spending most the week poorly off from work, and turning up at rehearsal on Thursday (yes, we do actually rehearse this stuff sometimes, thank you very much) distinctly croaky, and delivering the vocals for some of the more demanding numbers via the medium of interpretive dance…

Friday, happily, saw her feeling “rather better”, and in fact she sang an absolutely belting set to the gathered celebrants at the Tern Inn, up in exotic Yate. So charming was her performance, that one chap in the audience took advantage attempted to seduce her as she sang, by means of messages written on a whiteboard. Look, he even left his phone number there. If you can manage to decipher it, I trust you’ll have the discretion and good taste not to call him…

Love board

By the end of the night, there was some extremely spirited dancing going from the Eastern European contingent – we were pretty sure somebody was going to break a limb – and reluctantly we finally packed it in after a couple of encores, as we had run out of songs we could remember.

Saturday night, and the Locomotive beckons us, from its lair buried deep in the labyrinthine one-way system that is the centre of Swindon. Completely by chance, we found it first time, hauled all the kit in and set up. Swindon is quiet tonight. Very quiet. Poor Ben has to wait ages between groups of scantily-clad young ladies tottering past.

There’s not too many people in the pub, either; although at the half-time break, they all seem to have been enjoying it. The second set sees a few of the pensioners in the crowd trundle off homewards – “It’s past our bedtime, you see” – but the evening is saved once again by the East Europeans, a group of whom in the corner are very thoroughly enjoying themselves, and have to be told off by security for dancing on the tables.

So, we’re most definitely back under full steam again; coming up next, a proper three-gig weekend. Haven’t done one of those in ages – it’s all rather exciting…

Friday 16th – VRA Bike rally, Lower Lode Inn, Tewkesbury
Oh, we love playing bike rallies. This one we did a few years ago, there’s a nice big stage, indoors, and a lovely bunch to play. There’s also, as I recall, some very fine beer available. I wonder if they’ll let me take any of it home…?

Saturday 17th – New Crown Inn Summer Festival, Bath
One of our regular gigging venues, having a mad, grand day of music out in the garden. We’ll be on at 5:30, assuming everything goes to plan; there’ll be a bunch of other bands on before and after us, but ideally not at the same time. After all, we don’t want to show them up, do we…?

Saturday 17th – Jolly Cobbler, Kingswood
And rounding it off with a “normal” gig, this one is a slightly early 8:30 start, to keep the grumpy neighbours at bay. Our pal Mike the landlord won’t tell us which is the grumpy neighbour who complains about bands, and since we can’t afford the petrol to torch the whole street, we’ll just have to start – and finish – half an hour early. Usually gigs here are enlivened by the presence of eighty-year old table-dancing air guitarist Mad Eddie, and his extremely tolerant other half.

And then, I think I might just go and lie down somewhere quiet for a bit.

If I can’t find a suitable bit, I’ll probably give up and go home.

Square on

05-06-2017 – New Amp Optimism With Added Singer

Hola homeys…

Apologies that I didn’t get around to sending one of these out last week, I’ve been feeling a bit poorly. Gifts of flowers, cards, sympathy, and particularly cash, will all be welcome.

I’ve not, however, been as poorly as my equipment, which seems to be taking great delight in letting me down at gigs*, whilst nonchalantly behaving itself at practices and during prolonged fault-finding engineering investigations. Nonetheless, having gone through absolutely every item in the signal chain between my guitar strings and the victim’s ear holes, and replaced a whole bunch of components – connectors, leads, jack sockets, etc, I think that actually I may be on top of things again.

Particularly since one of the components I’m replacing is an entire amplifier… 🙂

As a quick catch-up, for those of you that weren’t paying attention last time, we played over in Bath the other week with not one but two singers, tag-team stylee – Lily taking care of the first set, and then drinking rapidly while Emma sang the second. And a marvellous job they both made of it, too.

The following night, we played our last gig with Lily at the mic, up at the Swan in Thornbury; to mark the occasion, Dem and the boys came along, plus her folks, to cheer her on. Awww. Quite fitting really, as we were just round the corner from where Lily played her first ever gig – not that many years ago – at the tender age of eleven. Of course, that time she didn’t have the handicap of a bunch of buffoons as a backing band.

Lil had done a fantastic job over the last few months filling in for us, and we’re so grateful that we have offered to take her out for a slap-up feed (once we’ve saved up a bit more, anyways…).

So; now we are on the brink of launching Emma full-tilt into rock’n’roll stardom – at least, a suitably tawdry low-key version thereof, anyway.

Friday 9th – The Tern, Yate
Seems to have become our regular venue for singer debuts – both Rosa and Lily played their first gigs with us here, and now it’s Emma’s turn. We’re rather excited about this; so much so that we have actually been throwing in extra rehearsals; although admittedly last night’s one turned into more of a beer-fuelled giggling fest. Friday should be a hoot.

Saturday 10th – Locomotive, Swindon
The Locomotive – “Swindon’s premier gay bar”, they proudly proclaim. So, we’ll be spending the evening entertaining Swindon’s premier gays, then. Usually it’s pretty lively in here – I’ve never seen so many inflatable willies in one place before. However, just in case there’s a shortage, feel free to bring your own.

And that, I think, is about that for now.

Square on

*Admittedly, when my kit is playing up at gigs, it does seem to send me into mild panic mode, which makes it even more difficult to sort out what’s going on. Hence Ben’s question last Saturday, based on the previous night’s debacle, as to whether he should have a spare cable ready for me “for next time you turn your volume off**…”

**The editors would like to point out that Alan received three years funding from the UK government in order to obtain a degree in electrical engineering. Steps are currently being taken to retrieve this funding.

06-03-2017 – Strappy Man

Hola, homeys and honeys!

Another weekend of pub rawk jollity; starting with a rather lively night at the Trout in Keynsham; somewhat enlivened by the presence of my old boss, King Howard, and his retinue of alcohol-fuelled relatives. I am introduced to his brother-in-law with the words, “This is Martin, I apologise in advance”. Apparently Martin, when he has been over zealously applying alcoholic beverages to his metabolism, can sometimes become rather demonstratively affectionate, “in a homoerotic way”. My look of puzzlement prompts further clarification. “Last week, he tried to bum me”, explains Howard. We leave Martin to talk to Stuart, who we figure will be glad of the attention, should the need arise.

The gig itself is made a little difficult for me, as this is the night that my strap locks decide to collapse. For the uninitiated, a strap lock is – as the name may suggest – a small metal device, designed to lock your precious expensive guitar to its strap, thereby ensuring it remains securely attached round your neck throughout any amount of nancificatious on-stage prancing.

However, if you’ve been rash enough to buy cheap sub-standard ones, they can suddenly become a means for your beloved axe to repeatedly try to hurl itself to the floor, unless you stand very still… Massive thanks therefore to Lily, who spent most of the second set reattaching the damned thing to me whilst she was singing, while I tried to continue playing with my axe balanced precariously on my leg. Foot on monitor, for all the wrong reasons.

Saturday’s outing to Devizes was rather more sedate, but – armed with a shiny new pair of expensive proper Schaller straplocks – beware of cheap imitations, folks! – we seemed to go down well enough with the punters that were there; particularly hipster “Jordan”, who sang along on a couple of songs with us. Well, fair enough.

Right then, hopefully with everything functioning normally, coming up this week…

Friday 10th – The Tern, Yate
Last time we played here, just before Christmas, was Lily’s first outing with us. This will be another one. Next time we play here, it probably won’t be with Lil. Er – as you can probably tell, I’m struggling to think of something to say about this one. It’s a gig. Something weird will happen, we just don’t know what. You’ll have to wait for next week’s exciting instalment.

Or, you could come along and find out yourself. Who knows, if you play your cards right, you might even be the weird thing that happens.

Square on

05-01-2017 – Another Noo Year

Happy New  Year, folks!

We hope you all had a spanktastic festive season, we certainly did…

Gig reports (as far as I can remember them) are suitably cheery – just before Christmas we played the Farmhouse in Yate, which turned out to be a rather better night than anticipated, thanks to a fairly solid cohort of slightly bonkers locals – including one fine lady, whose name alas I have forgotten, who was something of an urban hairdresser – a “street stylist”, if you will – she spent much of the evening unaccountably weaving plaits into the hair of various other members of the clientèle, and when she spotted Ben’s flowing tresses, her face lit up with an evil grin.

“Ooh, I’m gonna plait you like a fish!” she pronounces.

Ben wilfully (and only slightly nervously) subjects to this treatment, not least because it means he doesn’t have to help with a lot of the loading out of heavy equipment. Besides, I think he rather likes the attention.

Noo Years Eve at the dear ol’ Queen Vic in Stroud was a blast; I brought along my beloved Dem, and we were particularly delighted to find her drinking buddies John & Adam there when we arrived, accompanied by their saintly duty driver Anne – as inevitably happens on these occasions, it got a little bit slurred by the end of the night.

“I was trying to pace myself”, Dem explains later, “by having a pint of water to go with every pint of beer I drunk… but I’d turn around, and the water would have disappeared and been replaced by a shot of Jagermeister, or whisky, or something like that…”

I have a pretty shrewd idea how that happened. Naughty boys. Still, she had an absolutely lovely time, as did pretty much everybody else who was there. All in all, a delightful end to the year.

Right then, back in action for January…

Friday 7th – Rolleston Arms, Swindon
Last time we were here was a jolly fine night, and in Swindon they don’t normally seem to suffer a post-Christmas slump – either because Swindon is permanently slumped, or because the drinking classes simply don’t slow down for anything – anyroadup, this should be a good start to the year…

And finally – contents of crackers, you have been warned…

What do you call a kid who doesn’t believe in Santa?
A rebel without a Claus.

Why is Christmas just like your job?
You do all the work and the fat guy with the suit gets all the credit.

Why are Christmas trees so fond of the past?
Because the present’s beneath them.

What do you get if you eat Christmas decorations?

Why is Santa so jolly?
Because he knows where all the naughty girls live.

Why is Bob Dylan’s sleigh so quiet?
Because it has Nobel.

I can’t get to the chocolates in my advent calendar.
Foiled again.

You’re welcome.

Square on