WASTED.
I'M WASTED TODAY, WHAT A WASTE OF A DAY
AQUAPLANING, BODY COMPLAINING,
LAST NIGHT WAS SO FINE, ALL THE BEER AND WINE
WALKING THE WALK TALKING THE TALK
AT LEAST I THINK I WAS.
I'M WASTED TODAY WHAT A WASTE OF A DAY
COUNTING THE COST OF THE BRAIN CELLS I LOST,
GOT A HEAD LIKE A BRICK, DID I GIVE IT SOME STICK
THE ALL SEEING EYE TALKING PIE IN THE SKY
FULL OF IT.
I'M WASTED TODAY WHAT A WASTE OF A DAY
I KNOW I'M A DUMMY, I DONE ALL MY MONEY
I MUST BE MAD I PAID TO FEEL THIS BAD
THAT'S IT FOR ME THEN, NEVER AGAIN
YEAH RIGHT.
THE END
(Anonce)
There you have it. That's how I feel. The first poem I have wrote in quite a while, I feel so shite, however that is nothing to how number 2 on the baggage tags has been feeling, but he's come through it-just.
Right, great billy, sound, Brentford FC, I did this and that, and now here's some great pittures. I'm getting to it... I write this log as a hobby, it's quite time consuming and I do it to keep y'all in touch, up to a point with how things are etc. because if I was a fan of a band I'd be quite keen to know how it is the other side of the curtain, so...I got a bit fed up when I read the message board the other day someone wrote and said I'm repetitive, always same stuff and only looks to see the photos. Try the Beano, it's probably more up your street. Probably better written too... Don't tune in if you don't want to watch the programme.
Denmark. The land of the Polesen, which is the national dish, I believe. We in the UK call it a Hot Dog. You never have seen so many Hot Dog stands, they are everywhere you go. I actually had to move one out of my hotel room in Aarhus. OK, joke, there were actually 2 of them. Denmark. The land where smoking is the national pastime. Maybe it's because I have now given up smoking for 3 months 3 days 17 hours and 48 minutes ( who's counting?) but I couldn't believe how many people smirk (Geordie for smoke). Other side of coin, what a great country, such lovely people, on a very small list I can tell ya. List being Places I Could Live.
By the way, and before I get down to the boring bit, YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! TWFMBFC beat the Hartlepool 1 to nothing the other day, and tomorrow (Sat) are playing away to Southampton, of the Premiership in the FA cup 5th round. I'm sure y'all will join me in prayer good folks: "Almighty gaad, graynt the brave hearts of the parsh of Brentford the curge and lurk to stuff the heathens of the South coast, and smite them from their temple of sein and deprivaytion, ironically known as Saint Mary's." Coat....
Copenhagen. Got there morning of show, shite hotel, when you get a bad bed it's a real pain, literally. KB Hallen, for those of you what read the Classic Rock special, it's where Lars Ulrich, drummer of Metallica, who also wrote the foreword to the mag used to go and see the band in the seventies. All sold out, f****** loud and sweaty, everything a rock gig should be. Thank you to a bloke called Jens for a rather generous donation of red wine, actually drinking a bit as we communicate, I'm a rocker, feel like a bag o' shite, but I keep remembering that the liver is evil and must be punished. Maureen and her friend were there, as were the lovely Cyndy and the lovely Heidi, who was doing her 100th Quo gig that night, well done!
Mittelfart next, sports hall, not bad, we got a really good opening act, Midnight Blues, worked with them before, the bass player was watching us from the side. I'm not saying he looks menacing (I wouldn't dare), but if he'd said "Mind if I jam for a few numbers?) it would have been like "be my guest, can I get you a drink or anything while you're on sir?" Thoroughly decent bloke by the way, as were all of them.
Viborg, packed, not bad, can't remember too much to be honest, one of those nights, on to Aarhus, where, sorry to go on about what I done, (check out the Beano-it's riveting) but I went to the Kunsthaus, (think that's how you spell it) art gallery to us, and saw an exhibition of photography by a German filmmaker called Wim Wenders, fantastic, so all of you get to Aarhus IMMEDIATELY!!! Best gig of the tour, and we were staying in town, so got to go straight back to the hotel for a early night, after a swift drink at the bar. Right...
Numbers 2 and 4 a tad on the hammered side next morning. 3 hour drive, 17 hour ferry, number 2 still, in fact, by now more than a tad on the hammered side, arrived in Bergen, a seaport in the land of the Nogbad tha bad (gangster description), V.nice. Me and number 3 went up the local funicular during the day, loads of snowball fighting etc as befits 2 men with a combined age of 110, gig bizarre to say the least. We couldn't get the gear in until late, as there was an orchestra rehearsal going on, that kind of place, home of the Bergen Philharmonic, great acoustics, but not that rock and roll.
Did Caroline, and it was like oh shit, we're at the wrong show, this lot have come to see Roger Whittaker. They really did look like stuffed dummies, actually reminded me of the Muppet show, But the GOMORR was having none of it. He worked his ass off, even more than normal, and we beat them 7-0, after a half time score of 0-0. He was wicked.
Same in Stavanger, Oslo was a bit more rocking. There was a gorgeous girl kept looking at me, so I smiled at her. She just looked at me and gave me the finger. Takk baby...Norway. Don't know what to say about it as I didn't see any of it really, but they don't smoke like the Danes, oh no sir...
Going to go to bedybyes now, nightily nightxxxx
The noo (in Scotland you see)
PS. Norway has Primula, obviously a more developed country than the land of the hunnens nosser. Keep up will you?
PPS. YOU REDDDSSSS!!!!!
Images from top:
Rhino Portrait by Alex Connock
Headsdown by Patrick Cusse
KB Hallen Poster by Gert Ohlsson
Gerdundula in Oslo by Patrick Cusse