Part One ♪ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory ♪ Pee-Wee's Big Adventure ♪ Beetlejuice ♪ Sleepy Hollow ♪ Mars Attacks ♪ Big Fish ♪ Batman ♪ Batman Returns Part 2 ♪ Planet of the Apes ♪ Corpse Bride ♪ Dark Shadows ♪ Frankenweenie ♪ Edward Scissorhands ♪ Nightmare Before Christmas (with Danny Elfman as Jack Skellington) Encore ♪ Alice In Wonderland ♪ Oogie-Boogie's Song (with Danny Elfman as Oogie-Boogie) Danny Elfman's music form the films of Tim Burton, Royal Alber Hall, Londinium, 12th December
Main set: ♪ Shroud ♪ Straight to the Light ♪ Preacher Man ♪ The Watchman ♪ For Her Light ♪ At the Gates of Silent Memory ♪ (Paradise Regained) ♪ Zoon [part 3][wake world] ♪ Dawnrazor ♪ Earthbound ♪ Prophecy ♪ Moonchild ♪ Last Exit for the Lost Encore: ♪ Psychonaut ♪ Mourning Sun
Fields of the Nephilim, 30th Anniversary Shows, Shepherd's Bush Empire, 5-6 December 2014. Support by H.I.M. and Dolomite Minor
Main set: ♪ Harmonica Man ♪ Endemoniada ♪ Preacher Man ♪ Love Under Will ♪ For Her Light ♪ At the Gates of Silent Memory ♪ Zoon [part 3][wake world] ♪ Dawnrazor ♪ Equinox ♪ Prophecy ♪ Moonchild ♪ Last Exit for the Lost Encore: ♪ Psychonaut Fields of the Nephilim, 30th Anniversary Shows, Shepherd's Bush Empire, 5-6 December 2014. Support by H.I.M. and Dolomite Minor Video of Equinox/Prophecy taken on the night by Cee Tee
Main Set ♪ Sun Ray ♪ Freesia ♪ Static ♪ Lazy Eye ♪ Island ♪ Dripping Trees ♪ Mississippi ♪ Milan ♪ Glass Cats ♪ You Cage ♪ Red Shoes ♪ Devil's Roof ♪ Green ♪ Flying Encore ♪ Say Goodbye ♪ Shark
♪ Bright Yellow Gun ♪ Pearl Encore #2 ♪ Bea Throwing Muses, The Whatacunt, Norwich, 21st September, support by Tanya Donelly: ♪ Mass Ave ♪ Meteor Shower ♪ Swoon ♪ Red ♪ Snow Goose And Me ♪ Medley ♪ Honeychain ♪ Slow Dawg
Remind me again why I bother... Oh yes, because I am an awesome, caring, chivalrous top bloke... For last night's escapades involved shouting women hoping to cop off with Teh Xym, Not doing herself any favours though. But whilst endearing herself to me by screeching all harpy-like at her mother, she passed out whilst sat on the table. Toppled to the floor. And smacked her bonce on the concrete. But we step in to help... ...but helping two tonne Tessie to get all upright is not an easy task. Especially when one finds oneself somehow trapped in a corner compressed by comatose women. Even worse when it briefly comes to, trying to punch everyone's lights out in a flurry of fists, before squishing me once more, and forcing my supportive embrace into inappropriate areas! Do I: a) Let her slide down until it appears I'm massaging her mammaries; or b) Let her fall to the floor before accidental palm fillage with dirtypillow. Ah, c) Lay it on the floor before iminent boob contact, sexual harassment charge or tongue chokage (NOT MINE, I MIGHT ADD!), and let them there bouncers deal with it!
So, last week we had Cameo codpieces on Friday, Rawkus ribaldry on Sat, and drunkenly coming 4th in the pop quiz. So what better way to recover than by doing it all again with added gayness! Begin Fri at The Owl Sanctuary, down a couple, on to The WhatACunt for Joykiller and Liqueur, and persuaded to stay for 90s night, where Xymon is a dancer, he's a source of magic... ..who likes to move it, move it. Then last night... Picked up for pre-club Hulkage. Down The Owl for more, with the Jukebox and the Pool. Off to The WhatACunt once more for Britpop,,, ,,,and somehow, at the end of the night, ended up down The Loft where all the gayers go to be gat in their gayness. Surely, Xym, a gaybar is just the same as any other bar! So I would have thought. But when a gayer is campingly mincing in stereotypical queenery upon his exit announcing it was too gay, then there must be something worryingly wrong for a gayer to be outgayed by a gay bar. or something. Anyhoo, in we went... Well, obvs Xym in all his finery got a lot of attention, and discovered that a Gayers hands wander MUCH more than Pretties down The WhatACunt in the plume of smoke machines. And there was a triplicity of Pretties dancing near Xym, and "giving him the eye", and that barmaid from The Raving Queens Of Icini down Riverside... at least, one hopes they were Pretties, and I've not turned all tranny-fancier. Urgh! But apart from the same-sex snoggage, and the bloatyman wrestling on the dancefloor, you'd never know it was a poofters palace. Even the music didn't give it away.
Erasure? Bronski Beat? No crass campyfied crooners here! Oh no, it's the manly butch anthems of Cher, S-Club 7, The Vengaboys, The Weathergirls and Abba. And no-one spiked our cider with champagne, lager and Rohypnol. Although my sister was bullied by the bouncers into putting her shoes on. Apparently, women aren't allowed to dance barefoot in The Loft. I believe their Victorian repressed beliefs are of the inclination that the sight of a bared woman's foot would ruin their hunger for cock, and instantly turn them into vagetarians. Either that, or it's PC Health & Safety gone mad, and they can't have you getting The Gay Aids off a broken glass covered in HIV spunk on the dancefloor. Next time, we're gonna wear flip flops to fit in as we flounce. But not crocs. NEVER crocs.
Main Set ♪ Burn ♪ Fascination Street ♪ Pictures Of You ♪ Lullaby ♪ Primary ♪ High ♪ A Night Like This ♪ Friday I'm In Love ♪ Just Like Heaven ♪ Inbetween Days ♪ Wrong Number ♪ Never Enough ♪ Want ♪ Disintegration ♪ Sinking Encore ♪ Boys Don't Cry ♪ The Walk ♪ Close To Me ♪ Lovecats ♪ A Forest Liqueur - A Tribute to The Cure, The Whatacunt, Norwich, 12th September, support by Joykiller. Poster and revamped liqueur logo by The Xym! Ooooooh!
...in fruit stimulated orgasm. or something. See, we wuz out (again!) last night, and it came to the usual End Of The Night Taxi converse.
Pretties (allegedly) Taking An Interest in an oblivious Xym
Pretties Xym was Taking An Interest In
Pretties Xym WOULD be Taking An Interest In if they were there
Obvious Campanologist taking an interest in Xym's bells (Well, Campanologist as in Camp, and more interested in Xym's balls rather than bells. Creepily, dreamingly ogling me up on the dance floor and following me everywhere like a lovestruck puppy. I could understand the Gay Iconage last night, as per yesterday's blog, but I was in me normal getup - what is it that makes Pretties flee and gayboys gather?).
The name of Xym's autobiography (Xym: A Disabstraction Of The Easily Distra... Ooooh Pretty!) ; and
Why do I associate Fifers with potatoes?
When we taxi back, we go by Fifers Lane, drop me off, then t'others go on to Sprowston. Now, when we said Fifers Lane, It occurred to me. Potatoes. Why Potatoes? My Sis & Taxi drivers agreed. Fifers = Potatoes. Why? We can't remember! Googleage! Yeah. Not simple. Pipery flutey stuffs with the odd sprinking of Fifers Lane itself, and the occasional mention of muskets, drums, and a nudie soldier* refusing to cop off with some woman coz he has no clothes to put on (said woman having to do something with her chest, not getting a response and tarting him up in her very very best vest. or something. Cross dressing tranny soldiers indeed!) Anyhoo, talk transgressed from transgender to Trinidadian fruitery (or wherever bananas come from. The Banana Republic probably. or Sainsburys.), and how they might be Fifers. With a little blue label. And how you peel that label off the banana before peeling the peel off the banana, and it being a pointless exercise, because no-one eats banana peel, so why peel the peelable label off the peel in the first place, when you could just peel the peel off the banana replete with sticker, and lob the lot in the bin! Preferably with the banana. Anyhoo, it turns out than in Essex, it is a popular passtime to peel a banana and plaster it on your face. Much like the facehugger in Ridley Scott's Alien franchise. Perhaps that's all that Aliens is. An analogy for Essex. Ridley was on a trip to Essex, and saw these drunken rowdy folks comatose in gutters with facehugging banana skins raping their drooling mouths, and wondered if the plantain penetrators were insemminating the inebriated revellers by spunking seeds down their throat and into their belly. See, people say H.R. Geiger-Counter's design is very phallic, and the head of the Alien is just a massive cock. With teeth. Phallus Dentata, if you will. Bollocks! It's just a dirty great big fuck-off banana! Remember that TV show - Bananas In Pjamas? Two men in costume? I think not - they're real and are the result of some ungodly hyrid that burst out of an Essex belly thanks to a rapey banana peel on a drunken Saturday night out! * Y'AAAARRGGH! FLASHBACKS TO LAST NIGHT'S END OF PROPER GANDERAGE, AND THE BUNCH OF SLOW-WITTED FOLK WITH THE GINGER CAPERING-IN-CIRCLES DWARF WHO, UPON THE CONCLUSION OF THE SONG "I GOT SOUL, BUT I'M, NOT A SOLDIER" REFUSED TO LEAVE THE VENUE, PREFERRING TO STAND IN FRONT OF THE DJ CHANTING "I GOT SOUL, BUT I'M, NOT A SOLDIER" AD INFINITUM. ANNOYINGLY SO. MORE ANNOYINGLY BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING ANNOYING PHRASE "I GOT SOUL, BUT I'M, NOT A SOLDIER". FUCK OFF! FUCK RIGHT OFF! LIKE THAT DUMB GINGER DWARF THICKO - IT'S NOT BIG AND IT'S NOT CLEVER. MIGHT A WELL SAY I GOT TOAST, BUT I'M NOT A TOASTER! I GOT FIRE, BUT I'M NOT A FIREPLACE. I GOT HEART, BUT I'M NOT A HEART RATE MONITOR. SOUL AND SOLDIER LYRICS MY BEST HAT! THAT SAID, ONE SUPPOSED ONE SHOULD FORGIVE THE "STRAWBERRY BLONDE" PERSON OF DIMINUTIVE STATURE, FOR AS THAT FAMOUS YOUTUBE ANGRY GINGER RANTER SAID: "GINGERS HAVE SOULS TOO!" BUT HE'S OBVIOUSLY NOT A SOLDIER, BEING TOO SMALL TO MEET THE BURLY SOLDIERMAN TYPE. UNLESS THERE IS AN ELITE MILITIA OF MIDGET MUNCHKINS PUTTING THE WIND UP THE TERRORISTS BY PERFORMING WILLY WANKER AND HIS CHOCOLATE STARFISH OOMPA-LOOMPA SONGS BEFORE SLIPPING UP A JYHADDYWADDY DJBELLA AND BITING A BEHEADERS BELLEND OFF.
