This evening we turned up as usual for our Wednesday rehearsal up Johns back alley, only to find we'd been usurped by a triple booking of us, the show committee and the British Legion. And you know who's going to come off worse in a square up between some octogenarian fundraisers, the great and the good of the village and four modwardian snotrags.
That's right, we had to wait it out in the car park and practice our swearing. Having had more downtime of late than a Natwest cash point, we really needed to get our musical ends away. So when we finally got in, we had but an hour to polish ourselves up for our next engagement. But what an hour! It was like Flashman in a Parisian brothel, good stuff just kept coming and coming, beauty after little beauty.
Saturday at the bowling Green is going to be awesome! See you there!
Love you byeeeee!
X
- posted from a wireless telegraph
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