Not In Newquay

At around 5.30am this morning, I met the Mighty Boosh at Heathrow Airport.


(Apologies for poor photography)

I took this on the second attempt. Stood out the front of Terminal 5 smoking, I saw a poncho-ed man getting out of a car. They haven't taken off in the same way that Electro has. Moments after, a tall man with long hair and a scraggly beard appeared. 'That's the Boosh,' I explained to my girlfriend.

Approaching both Barrett and Fielding (perhaps I should've just asked Noir), I asked for a photo: 'Not at half five in the morning mate.' Replied Barrett, expectantly.

I let them enter the Terminal unbothered by my prodding. A few minutes later, I saw them again, with Bollo (Dave Brown) and Naboo (Mike Fielding); as well as some unrecognised chap. 'Go on, you're famous, it's your job,' I goaded Fielding as he stood still for half a second for me to get a shit picture.

Bollo then explained where they were off to, 'We're going to New York for our annual holiday. We always go somewhere together, every year.'

Perhaps they'll come back for a commission for a US edition.

Yeah. Bye.

Anyone reading this shit? Thought not.

If ever a town was deserving the efforts of someone to spare their own time to make it sound somewhat bearable, it sure as hell wasn't going to be mine.

To borrow a term from the great Charlie Brooker, this 'cunthive' needs a lot more than some jaded aspiring writer and a wankstained hand of shitstained flyers to get it out of its self defeating arsehole that it finds itself in.

Cheery bye one and all. Let's see if I can find some more entertaining words elsewhere. It might just happen.

Kernow Unter Alles!

All sorts of shit going on

Whoop, yeah! Run To The Sun!



Having yet to devise a way of making sarcasm legible in text, I'll just point out its appearance in the previous sentence.

Yes, this weekend is the Whitsun Bank Holiday weekend that all of us local types love to hate. If there was ever a global dickhead convention, this would be it. What started off many years ago as a Volkswagen convention, has turned into the town's first major scale gathering of alcohol and hormonally fueled wankers.

Anywho...

There's loads of shit going on in bars and clubs. There's even a new club Pure, which is located on the Indian burial grounds that used to be Tall Trees. Best of luck to them in trying to keep it open for more than five minutes.

All you have to do to find out what's going on where, is walk down the high street. You'll be bombarded by reps from pubs, clubs and bizarre pub crawl/promotions companies. Really, how hard is it to organise a pub crawl in Newquay yourself? Oh yeah, I forgot whom we're talking about. By around 10pm I'm sure the streets will be covered by a layer of multicoloured flyers; as well as vomit and fast food.

What I'd go and check out, if I could: not a lot.

The Koola has the Utah Saints playing a DJ set. Bit before my time really. On Sunday they've got Radio 1's Jaguar Skills and my favourite Hong Kong Ping Pong. Also on Sunday, hopefully a little earlier, Belushi's have got Black Friday who'll be playing some crazy ass folk-punk. I'm gutted that I'm going to miss them again. They played a stormer last time they came to town.

Tonight, tomorrow and last night

Oi oi, you lucky people.

Tonight we've got something new for Newquay. I'm doing Open Mic down The Chy from 10pm. Those good folks are putting on all you can eat ribs for £10, up in the restaurant. I hope when you've filled up you'll come downstairs and see me and my friends providing sweet sounds. Even if you're not my friend, I'm sure you'll be all right to get up and play. That's not to say many people in this town aren't my friends. There'll be a drink for everyone who gets up and plays, as well as some promos for you less musically able people.

After that (I don't know what time we'll be going on til yet), there's quid bottles over at On The Rocks, where there will probably be a band of spotty teenagers attempting to play whatever it is they play. I also know it's a few peoples' birthdays, so there's going to be a lot of pound bottles put away tonight.

Tomorrow is Thursday, which means Belushi's has its Open Mic. This week and next it'll be hosted by myself. Adam is off on tour (like the Rock n Roll legend he is). We all wish him the best of luck.

If last night was anything to go by, we shouldn't have to. Adam played a blinder at the Walkabout Open Mic (props to Ben and Foxy), and there was some sweet tunes by some less familiar faces. (Good work from the dude who played the right-hander left-handed. I'll have to find your name out so I can credit you properly.)

Speaking of last night, I don't think I've eaten since then. It's probably time to stuff something down my face. I've got work to get to.

Plug for my Unplugged Night

Seeing as I've been busy working, sleeping or walking around in a daze in between the two; I haven't had much to write. So here's a plug for my new night at The Chy Bar.

This Wednesday brings the greatest combination since Lennon & McCartney, Cheese & Onion and Nuts & Gum...

Open Mic & Endless Ribs

For just ten English pounds you can stuff your face with as many ribs as you can handle. And at the same time enjoy Newquay's finest musical talents, hosted by the human jukebox, me: Tim.

On top of that we've got some saucy drinks promos, as well as a free one for everyone that gets up and plays/sings.

Bring your empty bellies and guitars for the start of something very special. Wednesdays will never be the same!

"You're from Newquay...?"

"Do you surf?" Is probably the most commonly asked question/follow-up question I'm asked. The resulting answer depends on what mood I'm in. Usually, I give the honest answers: "Yeah, but I don't surf," which is the biggest pain in the arse, as I have to explain why I don't surf. It's quite a long one. I'll leave it for now. Or I blatantly lie, "Yeah, I like to get in quite a bit." This is the easiest option, if the conversation goes any further (which it invariably doesn't) I can use my years of knowledge to blag my way out of a situation.

Now, as I type this, my arms are aching to buggery. No, I haven't just had a four hour online power wank. I've been for a surf. For the first time in years. This is what happened the last time I went for a surf:



I'm second in, for you stalkers out there

Luckily my reaction was more positive this time. And going by the claims I've been making all winter, ("I'm going to get back into it this summer,") I'm hoping I can stick to them. It'll make the conversations a lot shorter.

* * * *

It's typical that I'm writing another post on a Thursday. By scrolling down, you can see that it's Belushi's Open Mic tonight. Don't have to say anymore on that front. I meant to write last night, but Reservoir Dogs and the Chelsea/Barcelona game (ha!) were on television. In the interests of my personal health, I decided to take the night off from drinking.

Had I gone out, I would have gone to On The Rocks for their Wednesday night quid bottles and local band. I'm a big fan of paying a quid for a beer, but considering last week's act sounded like Scouting For Girls, I thought I'd give it a miss. I've yet to hear what last night's band sounded like, so in the interest of fair reportage I'll leave the focus on the cheap beer. Quids in. Back of the net!

Insert musical pun here

I could've gone with Last Nite, the Strokes, or Sunday, Bloody Sunday, U2. I'm sure there are more. I digress. It's 06:22, I'm stoned, it's a short one:

Well blow me, that was a good night.

It wasn't as packed as the herd of Monday night Local's Night, but this Bank Holiday Sunday has come up with a sweet ass night all the same.

(Which is more the benefit of the poor souls who fill you with alcohol.)

The music was sublime, from Falmouth's Hong Kong Ping Pong to Australia's own, here to fill in for A-Skills, in the country for three dates, Nick Thayer. The man was fucking sick, to the extent that I took a considerable amount out of my tip jar and made him a bad ass drink for his performance. OTFH. A ripping two hour set, went in a minute.

Tonight didn't provide any of the usual toilet unclogging, spill mopping, jackass customers, dumbass questions ('Snakebite and black please,' pour the drink, 'hold the black.'). This one has been a pleasure to service.

I'll let you know when the next one is.