Yes, I'm back. With any luck, much like riding a bicycle and masturbation (not always at the same time), I won't have lost too much of my touch due to an extended absence. Wow! All kinds of innuendo there!
Apologies to my devoted and devout following. I'm sure all 8 of you missed me tremendously, although you probably saw more than enough of my ugly mug outside of the interwebnets. I decided to shelve the irreverence and the snarky remarks and the insidious insights for a while, feeling that I owed someone very special the respect. It just didn't feel right to jump right back into it. Sue me.
Anyway, I have so much to catch up on, I have no clue where to start. I could tell you about the hot water cylinder in my house causing late night (early morning) trips up and down a ladder accompanied by vast amounts of swearing that would make Amber Rayne's parents commit suicide. It was like Dame Edna on tik - with Tourettes. I could tell you about the delightful gentleman who, failing to correctly interpret very basic road signs or to even see my 1073kg car already occupying the space at which he was pointing his lorry, is still professing his innocence. I could go on and on about wine tasting and doing some Fred Astaire in dog pooh. But instead, as usual, I will resort to 2 of my favourite things:
Music...
...and me.
Specifically the music I make.
It was a balmy Friday in the Mother City as AXXON bestrode the stage of Mercury Live once again. Thanks to our cohorts - the terrific Terminatryx - the place was packed, buzzing, and had just been given a right royal going over. Barely allowed enough breathing space in which to recover, we assaulted them with our very own barrage of belligerent beats and rode roughshod over them with our trademark riffing and combination of clean/scream vocals. It seemed to go down a treat. The whole place went berserk, spurring us on to greater heights, gratefully feeding off a clearly energised crowd. Thanks to one and all - I thoroughly enjoyed the brief stay of execution from my fast-fading aspirations of rock stardom. I'm going to need a beer holster and an onstage neck masseuse soon...
Then there is the considerably awesome constellation of stars on display in December... Oh December is going to be a special month in local music. Not only will you get to experience the long awaited follow up to the gloomy glory that was the first Symphonaire Infernus show, but you will (finally) get to hear and see what all the fuss has been about and why I answer the question "Plans for tonight?" with the ever regular "Band practice..."
Since being ousted from my last serious involvement in a band, the almighty Revellus, I have been doing what I do best. Collaborating with ridiculously talented people, my trusty glass of wine as constant companion, and my jaundiced view of the world as inspiration. And graciously laughing at all the exceptionally witty permutations of anything and everything the new band could choose as a name. Not to mention no short measure of personal anguish. (If I whinge any harder, I'm going to have to concede that we should have called ourselves Megadeth, if it wasn't taken already...) It's been a long, long, LONG journey, but I am very excited to announce that I can almost announce our great big fat launch show. Keep your eyes peeled and the 11th - 13th December open, folks. You do not want to miss this most auspicious of occasions.
Another show you dare not miss is the very sad last show of the wonderful Sabretooth. I am sure that it will be with a heavy heart that we will say a fond farewell to a firm favourite and a hugely respected band. May your future exploits bring us as much joy and enjoyment as your years as the Sabretooth family did, guys.
Now that I have managed to pique your interest, I shall once again resort to the banal bollocks you no doubt expect of me (it occurred to me I have some more things I may want to tell you about). Let's see... I decided to become a wine farmer. Inquiries into the cultivar, characteristics, yield and price of single vines is about to commence. My ol' mum will be so proud - finally something those worthless pieces of paper can be used for. Also, I ended up at Caprice in an unprecedented venture into pop-up-collar-land one Sunday and got swindled by the bar-oke. I'm surprised they don't just have a weekly organised arm-wrestling competition. And a form the ladies have to fill in (before being granted access) that states they are willing to be subjected to arbitrary grading and that they are willing to go home with whoever wins the bicep contest. No wonder that guy making those spoofs is so popular.
For the life of me, I cannot think of any of the other things that happened. I think my mind is just in a state of shock at this sudden fervent bout of writing. So, to all the people that have so kindly been part of my life over the last few weeks (for the good times and the bad), my sincerest gratitude.
NGDG: Dilly dallying with dad, mocking the ridiculous R900 price tag on a pair of Lacoste moccasins in a shop window when mum destroys them like Russell Brand with this gem: "ah! Crocs."
Spread The Love. Get In Deep. Between The Folds...
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