Mach, Leicester, a fucking yurt, Aldershot.
We now know two things about Birmingham; 1. it has an Aldi, 2. it can drum up a proper delightful audience. If we had to come up with a third thing it would probably be that it's still very hard to drive in. It goes, in descending order of awful places to drive: Birmingham, Leeds, London. Oh, and a fourth thing would be it was very hot OR we were ill. We're erring on the side of it being hot though because we aren't being sick any more than usual.
This has been the best and only tour of our lives (Kath insists she's been on a tour of the Louvre, but contradicts that by insisting she's never been to Paris) so a big shout out goes to the duo who came back to see the show again! (They came back to see Ed's penis because they missed it the first time. A huge insult.)
Maidenhead was an incredibly posh treat. Like tea at Raffles or a Ferrero Roche. Norden Farm is, by far and away, our favourite venue, without a shadow of a doubt, because when we asked for a mop to clean up all the blood and milk they said "don't worry about it". Don't worry about it. Like it was nothing. "Nah, don't even worry about it mates, we'll clean up your milk and blood for you, you just pick your clothes up" was what they were thinking. Insane. That's what money does to you, it makes you mad. Money makes the world go around, but it's already spinning. We tried to fit in by taking a renaissance style photo but we fucked up the Fibonacci sequence, so it looks dog.
"What about Darlington?!" we hear ourselves mutter. You fucking know all about Darlington mate, the gig was as much of a treat as their parmos are. If you are from the south and therefore have no idea what anything is outside the M25, a parmo is like a pizza, but instead of stupid old boring idiot dough as a base, you get breaded chicken. So it's an absolute dream. It's the first time we were out in the audience as they were coming in so it was a nice opportunity to apologise before the gig rather than after.
If you've fumbled in any of our pants over the last month you will have noticed the boners we're wielding, that's because we get to perform at Mach Fest on the 29th. We're staying in a caravan with some boys near some sheep.
After that luxury break, we'll be heading to our spiritual home; Maryland Chicken in Leicester to get as many chicky-chicky nug-nugs as we can fit in the car. The proviso for this is that we have to perform the show at their little theatre. We're pretty dubious about that name after the Chorley Little Theatre debacle, but this time we get chicken so it's a risk we're willing to take.
Kath says she once "met a guy" in Leicester so we aren't allowed to stay over there. We're also not allowed to ask what she means by "met a guy" but Jim asked if it was sexual and now he has a black eye. Ed ordered a book on meditation over the weekend and is now demanding we stay in a yurt between Leicester and Aldershot, and, unbelievably, he has managed to find one.
After a night of Ed humming and leafing through his book we'll go to Aldershot, Google isn't coming up with anything for Aldershot at all, it just asks "did you mean 'oldershit'", maybe Jim has broken Google. Either way it's made us very scared. Maybe we won't do that one. We'll say Ed got ill from meditating.
Remember, we're always watching you ( . ( . )
We wish Gein's Family Giftshop all the best with their yurt adventure. Find out more about the group and where they'll be visiting later in their tour see www.geinsfamilygiftshop.co.uk