Kings Arms, Bath

Last time I came here was in the band's previous incarnation about 3 years ago, and I'm happy to report that coming back is much like putting on a comfy pair of slippers. Probably some old tartan ones that the dog has chewed a bit.
All the familiar old fixtures and fittings are there, including several punters who never move from their places at the bar - they are in fact fully plumbed in, with their own connections to the beer pumps and the sewage system. At the end of the night, the landlady drapes beer towels over their heads and they instantly fall asleep. Actually, some of them don't last that long.
We used to play here on a Sunday night, when the place always had a slightly desperate atmosphere as everyone tried to forget they had to work in the morning - Friday night seems a lot busier, and we even managed to perform a miracle: Lo! The lame threw away their crutches and danced! Well, one of 'em anyway - I hope there was no-one from the Social there, or her disability benefit'll be stopped on Monday...

King William, Glastonbury

Ah, Glastonbury. Great place to go if you're feeling a bit short of crystals or in need of a holistic massage, but as one local put it, if you want a pint of milk & some fishfingers you're screwed.
Funny place the King William... nothing seems to have changed from the last time we played here including the punters, who range from toothless local farmers who'd win first prize in a gurning contest to tooth-grinding acid casualties who'd give 'em a good run for their money.
Nice friendly place though, and we even managed to negotiate the air-con being turned on, in exchange for turning down a bit... can't take it, eh? Too much for you eh?

I blame the Council!

This government have a lot to answer for, not least the pernicious liberalisation of our ancient & noble drinking laws. Because of this heinous piece of legislation, I didn't leave the Old Fox until 1.30 on Sunday morning, having consumed more pints of Dublin's finest than I originally intended...
My old mate Alan must also shoulder part of the blame, as I'd gone out to see his band Angel Up Front who were as loud and cheesetastic as ever (I hope me & Patsy didn't put him off his stride by showing each other pictures of our kids - not very Rock'n'Roll I'm afraid!)
Still, at least I proved I can still headbang, even if whilst sitting down...
All this excess took it's toll however, and thus it was in the early hours of Sunday morning that irate motorists driving through Old Market would have seen a huge swath of roadcones blocking off half the road with, apparently, nothing happening.
Some hours later, a stooped, shambling figure in a hi-vis jacket appeared, and with a heavy heart (and even heavier head) I started the work I'd completely forgotten about...