Torrrrrrrrrrington (Great)

20111104-183905.jpgJust sitting backstage in Great Torrington at The Plough Arts Centre working on music and wishing there was a shower. Oh well, there's always the ever present rain. Things are good and we stopped at another country pub today for a great lunch. I'm a fat and happy cat allergic to myself but ready to curl up by a warm fire and take a cat nap. Literally. I do know that there's a pretty church to take a picture of. Hang on while I go outside. Ok here it is

20111104-193534.jpg Ok. I must change my guitar strings and change socks. I think I'll change my socks into a family of four on a vacation through the Swiss Alps on Sea-Biscuit clones galloping as fast as their freakish Island of Dr Moreau legs will take them. Yes, my socks are a fun mixed race family on crazy horses carrying swans in wicker baskets to be released at a later date like parolees finally breathing the air of other wayfaring creatures. It's fun to watch my socks slowly morph into leaving breathing organisms. They grow legs and arms and start talking to me in nursery rhymes. I love this little family and I hate to let them go to The Alps. "Please stay with me" I say. "No! Your feet stink!" they say. "But the world is a cold and cruel place" I say. "And at least Glenn Tilbrook will feed you. And his feet seem clean." But then, poof! They're gone. Their horses may be clones but they have 3 ears and 2 tails and a stable full of bad attitudes. Shit, I loved those socks. Goodbye little things. Go be free but be careful. Science may backfire on you one day. Must play Torrington. Repeat after me I'm a nutter I'm a nutter SjjP