Friday January 11th 2019

This week, Jeff was admitted to hospital after being shot in the head, presumably by a music lover; fortunately the bullet missed his brain by several inches. You were much missed last night, Jeff – hope you’ll be up and running soon. Brian opened with THREE on concertina, leaving many in need of psychiatric care.

Mike did the first song of the night to feature Virginia, after a guitar solo (the voice mic wasn’t working).

With a tenuous link to the Japanese resumption of commercial whaling, I sneakily knocked out 2 for one by combining “Last Leviathan” with “Bonny Ship the Diamond”. The transition between the two was seamless (in my head). I also had another go at “Crossing the Bar”, in case there are any funerals coming up.


Geoff Durno was back with his black cardboard guitar (click on the image to enlarge it if you don’t believe me). His first was another Virginia song (green rolling hills thereof) before he lost the rhyming, timing and eventually the will to live. We didn’t get anything from Geoff in the second half as he was called out in his role as Emergency Marriage Guidance Counsellor.

The wannabee Rachel Riley sitting next to me, scoffing vegan sausage rolls worked out that 449 men had died in Adrian’s first song, “Bold (bald?) Benjamin, but the clock had gone way over 30 seconds. (If you’re not a Countdown viewer this will mean nothing to you).

Alun had nicked and reworked a Welsh song about The Mimosa, which took people from Wales over to Argentina for twelve quid each – a bargain when you see what they’re charging nowadays just to cross the Channel in an inflatable.

A couple from our newly found chum from the Punjab, Gorrupta Singh, took us to the break; his Glaswegian cousin Cannae Singh said that, like me, he had no musical talent, and didn’t perform. Perhaps it’s time I put this one to bed.

Tony Davies wasn’t there to win the £40 Snowball so it rolls over next week. Despite Jeff’s weekly contribution to the raffle being absent, we still plumbed the depths as someone had brought in a pack of “Marshmallow Boobs”. Who won ’em? For f***s sake!  I never win anything, why did it have to be this? I can’t even feed ’em to my hens, they’ll stick their beaks together.

T Gwyn opened the second half with Kipling’s geographically grossly inaccurate “Mandalay” – I suspect Kipling never went anywhere near Burma (or a map).

I think we should have a whip round for the price of a haircut for Rick. A song featuring jug band music really needed subtitles for non Texans.

John Killion’s set was “a game of 2 halves”, sort of. First we had Marriott Edgar’s brilliant “Goalkeeper Joe”, superbly delivered, but leading to difficulties for EmCee and his inability to pronounce “Todmorden”. Incidentally if you Google “Todmorden”, number 1 on the list of things to do there is “Top Yourself”; if you’ve never been, it’s that sort of place. This was followed by “The rattlin’ bog” which we thought would never end. It’s no doubt popular in Todmorden.

There was time for one each, although I nearly missed my slot as I was engrossed by my new found pink breasts.

AWR has Geoff this week, just sound as he was also doing the desk in Jeff’s absence.



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