"No Rest For The Wicked" is the best album ever.

It's a crying shame to think that one day Brunch and I won't live together.

Rachel played this gig in Bristol which was a soundtrack that Bang wrote for a graphic novel. They warmed up sans-costumes.

For the performance itself it was like watching Necros Christos or Black Witchery as they all had black hoods on.

Unfortunately she took the make up off before I had chance to get her home.


Then we went to meet Damo and Charlotte who had Bruce and Smithy visiting for a late Damo's-birthday celebration.




Next morning we drove to Goathurst (!) to check out our wedding venue for next year. This field on the way had wheelie bins painted to look like cows and caused a 2 mile tailback from people rubber-necking.


The farm where we're having the wedding was amazing and the lady that runs it was super cool. They've got a stone circle where we can hold a black mass and sacrifice a goat. Ahem! I mean, hold a beautiful wedding ceremony.

That night Rach had to play a gig so I went with the crew to the pub that could be our new local in Burzle if we get the flat we want. It's open as late as it takes for the red-nosed landlord to remember the pub is in a country with laws, sells this murky looking cider with bits floating in it for 1.80 a pint and the regulars are all annhilated. Basically, heaven.



As ever the locals loved Bruce.




Gavin and Bang joined us after a while and were on about horse riding or something.








The next day Rach and just about everyone else in Bristol were playing this free gig down at Lloyd's. The first casualty was Rachel's shoe.

The only gentlemanly thing to do was give her one of mine. And dance like idiot dads at a wedding.









Nina joined us for dinner.


She got some new tattoos.



And last night French, Kloakius and I went to see the devil himself play at Wembley. I cut my finger before the gig and gave myself some facial decoration. Unfortunately it came off in the shower






Video? The black mass begins and War Pigs.


Ozzy was fucking unbelievable and anyone who wasn't there is a total bum-lord that doesn't like metal.



These two homos passed out in front of the Bark At The Moon tour video at the end of the night.

"I don't care dude..."

OK, here's the story. In New York last autumn I spent a couple of nights with my friends Fiske and Vey when they came down from Boston. We got suitably drunk and rowdy and shredded around NYC a bit. So, there we are getting ready to go out round this friend of their's called Tia's place and having a few drinks. Vey tells us this story about how he once got a hand job from a girl with a mutant hand which I soon realise is pure gold so I start to film it with my digital camera (hence the dark picture) and manage to get most of it. The rest of the night was a blur and we ended up back at Tia's in the small hours with him being sick on the pavement outside.
Back in 'Blighty I whacked the clip up on youtube so Fiske could see it and to embarass Vey. After the initial chuckles from both sides of the atlantic I didn't think any more of it. Until a few days ago.

Vey hit's me up on AIM and tells me that his family - Mum, dad, aunts, uncles and GRANDMOTHER - were all at a family get-together and decided to look him up on the internet. Guess what they found?! By all accounts they were none too impressed and in his words "are so bummed on me, they think I'm chock full of disease".

So, I'm sorry mate - I've yet to completely remove it but I have changed the tags so if you search for his name on youtube it should no longer come up. For those who can appreciate it in it's new notorious context and may not have seen it the first time around here is it below.

Sorry to the Vey's - I guess the family innocence has been spoiled. I'm a bad person.

Raw I'm a give it to ya, with no trivia, raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia.

Bilko's stag day/night/thing.



Guess which alpha male won the clay pigeon shooting?

And guess who came last? (No prizes for a correct answer)

It's not my fault - when we booked it I genuinely thought he'd be good at it.





Ian's post-lapdance euphoria. Ok, it doesn't really show in this photo.




Laughing at these girl's moves kept us amused for a song or two.












When we got outside the club at the end of the night the bouncers were all crying with laughter as they watched this couple over the road getting intimate without a care in the world. The dude had his hand in his lass's knickers for all the world to see. It was educational.