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The Hope and Anchor, Bridport - Sat 28-Feb-2004
The best anaolgy i could come up with for Saturday’s gig in
Bridport, was like you were in the middle of a really good shag.
One you’ve been looking forward to all week.
You’re quite close to the vinegar stroke, but you know it’s far enough in the future to mean you can still enjoy yourself a bit more yet.
Then, all of a sudden, a nasty, mean, killjoy of a person, breaks the door down, heaves you off your fuckee, and turfs you out on the street, the sweat still glistening on your back.

Bummer huh?

Like i said, it’s an analogy, but it works.
See, that low life piece of shit that lives opposite the Hope and Anchor in Bridport was up to his old tricks again, and decided to moan about the noise, so we had to stop, about half an hour from the end.
I’ve spoke of that prick before on here, doing so again won’t get me anywhere, even though it feels good to vent spleen.
The sad truth is, he won’t be reading my remarks, and is obviously inconsiderate to the way in which others have fun, so what’s the point?
It was disappointing for a number of reasons, not least because it was our first gig for the new owners down there, but also because after a week of bullshit, and weathering it all on autopilot, the only thing that can keep me sane sometimes is beating on a guitar for two
hours. Now some twisted old prune is out to put the mockers on it.
Once we find out his exact address, i predict a hate campaign the likes of which has never been seen before.
Dog turds throught the letter box? Pah! Child’s play mate, i’m bringing out the big guns....well, i’ll borrow Badger’s rifles anyways.
He can moan, he can whinge, but he won’t win. We’ll be back at the Hope, and maybe we’ll write a song just for him.

Aside from that it was all going very well. The nutters were out in force, which always makes for a good gig, Mad Mick was there ( dude! ), and some other large gentleman, and some really small guy who wanted us to play a Cult song....he was funny......not when he was slurring and
drooling at me at half eleven that night, but when we were playing, yeah, he made me laugh.

Badger had fun for his birthday, we even had an acoustic guitar sesh after everyone had been kicked out....the less said about that the better.
Hope no one was bootlegging it, my rendition of Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Poison was not my finest hour.....vocally or otherwise.
Hangovers the next day, and a bleary eyed early morning drive home to get the hire van back, since the Beast is undergoing some minor surgery to get her through the MOT.....she’ll be back, firing on all 3.

And also, whoever put that turd down the toilet in the Hope on Saturday night, YOU sir, have a problem.
You musta sold your ass to the devil. Go to the doctors for fucks sake, and also, learn to aim...it’s a big basin, the rim had a large circumference, i dont care how pissed you were, sort it out.
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