Sunday, September 17, 2006

The King Arthur, Glastonbury

Yes, the very same pub in which King Arthur burned the cakes he was baking for Joseph of Arimathea. Or something.
...well, this pub was a new one on me, and They said that space was at a premium; suffice to say, if we'd been any closer together last night we would now all be legally betrothed in at least 47 states, and up on charges in four of them.
Despite spatial limitations so severe that Nick had to remove his hi-hat just to reach the bar (yup, every bit as painful as it sounds), we managed to get through the whole first set without serious injury.
The second set saw the appearance of the Pub Nutter.
Now, this particular beast appears in Many Forms, and moves in Mysterious Ways, but some things are always predictable:

He (and it always is a He) works alone - I wonder why?
He sports an unusual haircut (in this instance no hair at all)
He dances like a Kangaroo on Acid.
He will not go away. Ever.This one, bless him, had a twist! Just when you thought you had the Measure of the Man, he vanishes into the car park & reappears with a length of UPVC drainpipe, incorporating several elbow joints. With these unlikely Dark Materials he manages to fashion a range of obscenely contorted shapes, several of which slide dangerously into regions of non-Euclidean Geometry hitherto merely hinted at in the Forbidden Necronomicon of the Mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred...

Several punters disappeared into realms of unnameable nightmare without even waiting for last orders, but the survivors that retained their sanity pronounced it "a bloody good night out", and who are we to argue?

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