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What a caring bunch we are.
I actually think there is some kind of addiction involved with this place.
I mean what did people do before the interweb? With the amount of time people spend here and all the threads about TV, films, games, facecake and other sites some people must spend half there lives behind a screen.
I can really feel like crap when I spend too much time on here.
I, on the other hand, am baaaack! Anyone miss me? No? Ah we'll, feck the lotta ya...
I've taken a month sabbatical twice now. Both times when I was being more of an asshole than usual. I built more toy planes played a tiny bit more guitar, cooked and spent more time on other forums. No real change from not being here.
The only thing that stops me inhabiting forums is a new GF when you are in the rush of discovering a new person.
Give us your gaffa tape, we don't want your guitars.
Hello possums! I'm back!
Having read all the kind comments, I'm relieved to see that nothing's changed since my self-imposed sabbatical. You're all still full of shit (lucky poo producers less so), still moaning about politics, religion, and anything else that takes your fancy. It's like slipping on an old pair of slippers, warm and comfortable until you realise that the cat's pissed on them.
So, what's been happening? Well, the New Years Eve gig rehearsals have proved to be a complete failure. Our outgoing singer has joined our drummer in the "implausible excuses to get out of rehearsing at absolutely the last minute" club, by claiming she had an emergency appointment at the hospital due to a miscarriage. The aforementioned appointment was scheduled for 2 hours prior to rehearsals, 24 hours later. Emergency? Hmmmmm.
The drummer, already being depped for the occasion, has been replaced by a nice chap who did the same for us last year following the pussy-chasing incident. When we got to the rehearsal room,, he produced a copy of the setlist we did exactly one year ago, and confessed he hadn't been near a kit since then.
Needless to say the rehearsal, with the bassist "singing", didn't exactly go too well. On a brighter note, he and I stopped off at at the pub off the road afterwards, and had a stonking pint of some cherry winter warmer ale, while we discussed what the bloody hell we were going to to do.
Someone remind me why I'd do this?
To feel the love.
He who laughs last ... is still using a slow modem
Our drummer is happier to go out on NYE to get slaughtered, on the year's biggest payday, thereby costing himself a shed load of cash, and, given his track record of injuries, will either end up in A&E, or simply take a few years off the life of his already battered liver.
Personally, I'd rather stand up in front of a load of pissy pub-goers for a couple of hours doing something I enjoy and get paid for the pleasure. NYE holds no particular magic for me otherwise.