Circus folk

So the lovely DHG came to the Crown on Wednesday. And he bought some of his showbiz buddies. Now I have met Dan before & he’s a tall bloke. But on Wednesday he was a giant. frighteningly so. Possibly because he was standing next to a dancing midget. Who was a bit camp in the way that Hitler was a bit racist. And a couple of attractive girls of dubious sexual preference who were, as Alice might say, ‘passing strange’ completed his entourage. I, on the other hand, was accompanied by the usual collection of Steve’s. And a certain amount of drinking took place. And the gay dancer turned out to be truly offensive. It was a joy. See, Wednesday the acoustic club meet in the back room of the crown to torture selected instruments and sing ‘leaving on a jet plane’ endlessly. And periodically we shout abuse at them and threaten to perform minor, but very intrusive, surgery on the penny whistle player. Its not open hostility, more of an uneasy detent. But on Wednesday we sent in the unpleasant runt. Suffice to say, Kiki finally had to ask him to leave. And then let him back in, in order to save him from a beating from the irate (and large) pizzeria boys next door. Fuller failed to organise a threesome with the two passing strange ladies and we all staggered off, well past my bed time and drunker than a whole bucket of skunks.

And what are DHG and Co in the delightful town of Telford for. Why, working with primary school children. Hmm.

Anyway, last night we gathered in the Crown again. And, as occasionally happens, it had all the atmosphere of a morgue. Still, we awaited the cabaret with a certain anticipation. But Dan, now shrunk back to human size, was unaccompanied. Ah well, you can have too much of a good thing.