Thank you Swindon

20111109-023537.jpgWe rolled into Swindon loaded for action like a bunch of characters from a Sam Peckinpah film. We were ready for business and I was thrilled to see there was a fine shower upstairs in the club. I love it when the club has a shower with hot water that works. The staff at The Vic were spectacular and had a fine selection of teas upstairs. Dave was a great host. By the time I took the stage I had transformed from a dirty filthy hobo to a somewhat respectable guitar player with a checkered past reminiscent of a stained tablecloth from a French bistro in Paris at closing time. The Swindonians greeted me with mild applause and curious stares. They slowly warmed up to me and things started unfolding as nature took its course. By the end of the show I was hanging from the ceiling held up only with fish hooks in my ears connected to a spider web. I pulled out a machete and cut myself free and landed on a plastic horse with flowers growing out of her ears and sparklers sparkling fiery sparks out of her ass. It was transcendent. One of my ears caught on fire and a cool girl serving drinks sprayed tonic water at my head at g force speed and I escaped with only a flesh wound. Then Glenn Tilbrook came on stage and killed. He's so fun to watch every night. Now I'm back in Stroud sipping hot chocolate in Miles' pub The Prince Albert. Miles is resting and his gal Lotte made us cheese toasties and Simon and the rest of us are listening to Tom Waits' new record. It's 3am and I must go to sleep. We have another show tomorrow which is already today so I know I don't have far to go because the show is in Stroud and I'm already here. The show is at Landsdowne Hall. Zzzzzz Sleep is winning I'm Fading Over And Ouuuut Thanks again Swindon! Steve