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Bit of a swingamajig and an apology

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I feel I ought to apologise to the ‘Electric Swing Circus’. They seem like nice people but tonight they dared to “step a little bit closer to the edge”.


My daughter has talked about them for a few years now. I saw them for the first time last year at Boomtown Fair in the absolute pissing rain. Then a couple of times at Shambala Festival and then again this year when the girls wanted me to take them to Swingamajig
festival that they organise and run in Birmingham.  

I recently saw on Instagram that amongst their recent tour dates, they were scheduled to play locally as part of the ‘Bradford festival’ and a free gig to boot.  Not sure how they managed to pull that short straw whilst the equally cool ‘Dutty Moonshine Band’ are a few miles up the road at Beatherder.
Anyway, never one to look a free gift gig horse in the mouth, off we went after I’d got in from work.

 

 

We felt that we should go and support them, as I feared for what sights might greet them in the craphole that is Sadford Town on a Saturday night. Centenary Square on a stage in front of Wetherspoons, where most locals’ idea of music is gangster wannabees in balaclavas, riding gypsy horse carts through streets, singing “I don’t fink so” on Youtube.

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The bands’ instagram feed has showed them in lovely places around Europe with bouncy crowds of smiley happy hipster people.  I feel like they may have looked out over the motley bunch tonight and mistakenly thought that it was a homeless spice tramp convention, or like that scene in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest when they sneak hookers in for a party.

 

A man in a Pink Floyd tee shirt who looked as if he had been drinking all week cheered them on as they warmed up, applauding the sound check and shouting for one more tune.       A small man in a running vest, also the worse for wear for something and reeking of Lynx, sidled up to me at the barrier at the front and tried to rub himself against me.  I booty-bounced him away from me and the Childerbeast and gave him a look that strongly said, “Back the hell away from me and my kids”

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I love that you’re here… but why?

The childerbeast kept their dancing and jumping to a minimum with the self-consciousness of being teenagers who are out locally and might see a teacher or someone from school.  My friend, asked if they were the type of band who did the old selfie with themselves and the crowd at the end of the gig.  I said, “Sometimes, but I suspect, not tonight”  They probably didn’t want to alarm their parents into thinking their musical offspring were playing gigs at a jobseekers festival for the pharmaceutically addicted and criminally insane, on the island of Doctor Moreau.

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Good to see the security fully on top of the old unattended backpack situation at the barrier right infront of the stage aswell. 

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See it. Say it. Sort it.

I was convinced I’d seen a one-armed security person at one point – quite possibly due to a previous unattended bag scenario.

Poor crowd turnout aside – the band played a cracking gig, giving it 110% regardless. Not quite the glamorous speakeasy of Shambala Festival or a gazebo in my back garden (the offer still stands guys).  If they’ve any sense they will be already on site at Beatherder sharing tequila shots with Dutty Moonshine.  I was astounded they did an encore TBH. If it had been me I would have been back in the van quick smart, shouting “Leave the equipment, we’ll get more. Just put your foot down and get the hell out of dodge FFS!”

So well done ESC.  I look forward to no doubt seeing you again at Shambala next month.  I’ll get Rhona to bring her mini pan pipes so she can play along.  That’s providing we’re still alive living round here, where the rules of the road do not apply. We all had to run to cross the road when heading back to the car park. The green man was still lit when some tosser flew down the road through the lights at about 80mph, not even attempting to slow down!

Asshole!

Welcome to Bradford. You may never leave. (Although you really should!)

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How looooooong has this been going on?

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Anyone else wondering if it all might go a bit ‘Game of Thrones’ or ‘Threads’ once we / if we eventually leave the EU? 
Failure of the national grid? Walls of ice separating north and south? Fights to the death over lettuces in Aldi?  Children burnt at the stake to appease non-existent gods?
Forget dope and crack – the dealers will be cashing in, selling insulin and ibuprofen under cover of darkness.  Mothers bartering sexual favours in doorways in exchange for rats in a basket to feed their kids because we can’t get cans of beans anymore? 

It almost went that way yesterday when Whatsapp, FB and Insta all went down at the same time and the entire nation had to make conversation with their loved ones rather than communicating via memes.  Thousands of posed & heavily filtered photos remained unposted. People around the country were denied the knowledge of what their old school friends, not seen for 25 years, had eaten for their tea!  

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What a catastrophic clusterfuck of ineptitude our government is at the moment?  When are we changing the national anthem to the Benny Hill theme tune?  We must be a laughing stock to the rest of Europe.  FFS!
I didn’t vote to leave but I respect anyone’s decision who did, providing they voted as best they could with the scant information I felt we’d been given.  I’m not sure anyone actually knew what was going to happen. Although if you were one of those people who voted to leave because you thought anyone not born and raised within the sound of the Bow Bells would be immediately deported, then you, my friend are a bellend and I do not respect your decision.
  I used to be in charge of School Council when I worked in a school (this one time…) and a bunch of primary school children seemed more capable of sorting their shit out than our current lot in charge.

*sigh*

Meanwhile, I have got some new sneakers and they are super comfortable and feel very bouncy – I may even be tempted on my walk to work to break into a light jog – who knows.

🙂

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Am also slightingly disturbed that in the last few days when I log on to FB on the laptop, I am getting pop up ads for viagra and sites which encourage random sexual encounters!  One of which depicted a cartoon image of a woman astride a man who was sat upon a washing machine – the heading read, “Are you having a dry spell?”  WTF Facebook?

😀

Ciao Ciao MoFos.  I’m off to stockpile like an end of days prepper and watch people yelling at one another on Question Time  Xx

Baby, I’m your man!

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I took a photo of myself today on my new witchcraft mobile to use as a profile pic for Instagram.

WTF?

Trust me, I am not fishing for platitudes, but holy moley I looked like bloody shit no matter what angle I took the fucker from!   Crow’s Feet?   It was like Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’ out there round the old eye regions (and I had make-up on). 

I thought I looked pretty decent circa 2006 – I seemed to come into my own and embrace my mid to late 30’s.  Now the façade has started to crumble and the plasterboard & MDF is beginning to show through.  I might try some of that Nanoblur cream (or maybe just a pair of 10 denier tights over the lens of my camera)

not the eyes, not the eyes!

Have I always looked like a man & just not been able to admit the truth to myself? 

I’ve sadly lacked in the lovin’ department over the years, not exactly fighting the fellas off with a stick, & most of the decent offers I did get, I knocked back because I’m an asshole (who had, & still has, body inferiority issues).   

My youngest even said last week while I was mooching for clothes in Chester and asked their opinion on a frock.  “Mum, sorry but dresses and you… well they just don’t match”

Think my sister got the looks and I just got the mannish chin and the moles from the paternal side of the Fam.

Unlucky.

I like to think that perhaps I appear better in the flesh, as it were, and just don’t take a pretty picture.   Bman knows the truth.  He’s been describing me to his work colleagues as ‘Benny Hill in a wig’ for years.  To be fair, he’s still around, which speaks volumes, although I’m not sure of what?

Vogue will be calling any time soon (for their drag edition)

I’ve used a picture of one of the childerbeast’s eyes instead & thrown a cloth over the bathroom mirror…

 Xx