The Answer Tour: Part 2

Hello everybody!

Some of you may be surprised to see part 2 of this blog appear so soon after the first one, especially those of you who have read previous entries and know that there can be a wait of about 6 months between updates. However, as part of my new regime of ‘pulling my bloody finger out’ I’ve decided to crack on and try and keep things moving like a well-oiled narrative machine. I hope you all bloody appreciate it.

Now where were we? Oh yes – we had just spent a day of aimless wandering, flamboyant drinking and fully-clothed sleeping in Bristol hadn’t we? Well the following day was the actual Bristol gig so we were up with the lark as usual (about 11.55 ready for being kicked out of the Travelodge at 12) whereupon Atko, Adam B and I indulged ourselves by attending a local Bristol fitness centre which had the benefit of having a sauna and steam room. As you may know, Gentlemans Pistols are devotees of the general ‘good living’ principle and have been known to find ourselves in all kinds of exotic places across Europe, sweating in tiny wooden boxes without any trunks on. Fortunately or unfortunately the Bristolian spa that we found ourselves in was very much of the ‘trunks on’ school and as such everybody’s modesty remained intact – at least until some of the later dates on the tour, but we’ll come to that.

Emerging from the sauna like new-borns squinting at their first sunrise, bodies cleansed and wellness throughout, we set about the by now fairly standard task of finding somewhere to have a nice big drink. The gig that night was on a boat which fortunately enough was to remain static while we played. Having performed on a boat before I had bad memories of starting a fill just as the vessel keeled and nearly finding myself on the floor by the time I’d got to the end of my flamboyant paradiddle. However as I mentioned the boat for that particular evening was to remain moored and any instability would be solely due to the addition of ‘rum’ to ‘coke’. As it turns out we had a thoroughly nice evening as always, chatted affably with several inhabitants of the local environs, and headed back to the Travelodge for more Black Velvets and other ill-advised combinations of drinks.

The following day was the former mining town of Ebbw Vale in Wales so off we set to see our spiritual and geographical cousins in Cymru. Getting to the venue maddeningly early we managed to collar a young ‘mosher’ who directed us to the local Wetherspoons where gentlemanly drinking commenced. Atko was furtively abused from afar by a chap who called him ‘Charlie Manson’ or ‘Jesus’ or something equally cutting-edge, only for said chap to be rather taken aback (he shat himself) when the fellow he had previously compared to a homicidal maniac turned round and started coming towards him. Needless to say his bravado shrivelled as quickly as his extremities. Eventually it was time for soundcheck and showtime and we thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Whilst talking to some chaps I was introduced to a girl as the drummer from Send More Paramedics which caused a certain inflation of my already tumescent ego when she promptly burst into tears and hugged me almost uncontrollably. Later on in the evening I acted as Cilla for a young chap who professed his admiration for said young lady by signing a £5 note for him, complete with the assertion that this fellow was really very nice and every opportunity should be taken by the girl in question to blow his legs off forthwith. I hope it worked.

We got to the Travelodge later on having stopped off at Merthyr Tydfil Tescos for supplies (Pot Noodles and hot sauce) and bedded down for the evening. The next day Atko informed me that the previous night had been a quiet one for everyone, which came as some surprise as later that morning I ended up puking in the toilets of the very same Tesco in Merthyr Tydfil that we had attended the evening before. Even more aggravating was that the very thing I was bringing up happened to be the Alka Seltzer I had taken with the express intention of averting such a scenario. Anyhow, off we went to Sheffield for the final date of the first third of the tour. No sooner had we got to the venue than rum and gingers were prepared, although I couldn’t help but notice that Dougie’s division of ‘rum’ to ‘ginger’ was about 50/50, which was certainly a lot higher than mine was. Also, with only 40 minutes until stage time he had suggested to me that we drink the entirety of the 24-can crate of Tuborg before we played. I only realised that ‘Mr Ze Boogie’ may have been on a drinking mission when, back at his house once the night was over, he disturbed me while I was relieving myself by bursting into the toilet and throwing up in the general direction of the same receptacle into which I was pissing. I narrowly missed giving my old chum an impromptu golden shower, fortunately. Earlier on in the evening the gig had been thoroughly entertaining, marred only by the fact that Bill’s head blew up midway through the first song. Undeterred we took the opportunity as always to become the sweatiest men in the history of the universe and thoroughly enjoyed the experience, thank you very much. After that all that was necessary was a brief journey back to Leeds in time for Dougie nearly to be sick all over my male area.

And so the first part of the tour was over. However, there were still two weeks left and much much more excitement and adventure to come. In the next gripping installment our heroes will experience nearly having a chip-induced heart attack and receive gushing praise from a member of Puddleof Mudd. Stay tuned!

Published in: on November 5, 2011 at 7:25 pm  Leave a Comment  

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