Hi Honeys - we're home! Our time at the Tones Bootcamp in Montego Bay is over. We're back - leaner, fitter and less lucid than before. It's the fault of the special Daiquiri Mojitos they do at El Cabron's place. The guy is a legend. It also explains three resolutely pasty Devon complexions - it was only Turner who saw the light of day. But hey - we're back now, the glasses are empty and it's time to go to work. If you can call it work...
Our first appointment was to get the newlywed Angells off to a flying start in Chagford! And we did! We spilled a few new tunes, sloshed some classics all over the joint, struck a Jazz Chord at half time then re-wrote the second set entirely from the ground floor up.
Having duly rocked the place during the Eighties section, we took to taking requests, and wisely, taking advice on what not to play. In retrospect, not playing Whole Lotta Rosie at ear splitting volumes to some bemused septegenarians was probably the right course of action. We'll save that for next time...
Our set aside, there was more food than you could shake even a sizeable stick at, and on the groom's advice Bunting came away with approximately a yard of Pasties. Bernie is still on a cholesterol comedown after rising to the challenge of 3 kilos of Devon Blue. Yes, it turns out that even Mr Samuel has limits.
So as we reflected on a job well done to the funk of DJ Pink, our minds could only turn to next week's conquest - The Twyford! And finally, the chance to say an emphatic YES! to a request for some AC/DC.
We love what we do. And we do what we love. And we love you. And Cheese.
Love you Byeeeeee!
XXX
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