the snitch
New Member
godddammm!
looking forward to teenage fan club in the ambassador for an age now. have seen them about 8 times over the last 11 years. always a pleasure. especially to watch ickle gerry love, bless. anyway, what's the story with the ambassador? firstly i arrive at 9.30 and the chaps on the door go all shirty on me. they're not sure about letting me in yadda yadda. then they insist on checking my bag 'for explosives' the chap chortles. so he shines his torch into the deep, filled with snotty hankies, unwound tapes, spare jocks and all that jazz. i'm happy for him. then they want me to shell out extra bucks to put my coat and bag in the cloakroom. i get in and the sound is muddier than the banks of the tolka. no matter where i move - beside the sound desk, up front, down back...then i get sandwiched between three drunken ninnies who want us all to know they know the words, and in front of me shuffles the tallest man in the world. the ninnies keep screeching 'fear of flying' even though the set list is on the sound desk for all to see. and the crowd seems hell bent on buying over priced beer at the bar to spill all over me. but the fanclub are on stage administering musical prozac. the sun fills the ambassador. little fluffy yabbits hop about and yellow birdies tweet tweet tweet. teddy bears sit having a picnic and sleepy town wakes up. and for a moment gerry love smiles at me.
looking forward to teenage fan club in the ambassador for an age now. have seen them about 8 times over the last 11 years. always a pleasure. especially to watch ickle gerry love, bless. anyway, what's the story with the ambassador? firstly i arrive at 9.30 and the chaps on the door go all shirty on me. they're not sure about letting me in yadda yadda. then they insist on checking my bag 'for explosives' the chap chortles. so he shines his torch into the deep, filled with snotty hankies, unwound tapes, spare jocks and all that jazz. i'm happy for him. then they want me to shell out extra bucks to put my coat and bag in the cloakroom. i get in and the sound is muddier than the banks of the tolka. no matter where i move - beside the sound desk, up front, down back...then i get sandwiched between three drunken ninnies who want us all to know they know the words, and in front of me shuffles the tallest man in the world. the ninnies keep screeching 'fear of flying' even though the set list is on the sound desk for all to see. and the crowd seems hell bent on buying over priced beer at the bar to spill all over me. but the fanclub are on stage administering musical prozac. the sun fills the ambassador. little fluffy yabbits hop about and yellow birdies tweet tweet tweet. teddy bears sit having a picnic and sleepy town wakes up. and for a moment gerry love smiles at me.