ComEnts

"Crazy May" is thrusting furiously towards its climactic explosion this weekend as White Sunday play at the Face Bar, Reading on Sat night (The old Club Tropicana/TUC on Chatham St.) before hitting the stage at Newbury Fringe festival on Sunday. Some "developments" are starting to unfold behind the scenes as well, so hopefully we can head out on tour with *insert name of amazing band currently on world tour* before too long. There are people out there - good people - all over the world who will need us to play loud rock music for them. It's a global mental-health initiative, that's what it is. Just imagine, somewhere in an exotic part of the world there will be someone who is having a rough time of it, and their mate will say to them "Hey man, screw all that, let's go to the rock gig tonight, get drunk, get laid, listen to some music and forget about it for a while, if not forever." That's where we step in. It's a public service we offer.

Still no text from Sir Clive, I'm sure he would have called me by now if he had really wanted me to cover the hooking berth, so I'm really close to giving up on the whole idea. I'll give him until 5 mins before the last test before I give up completely, but it's not looking good.

Still waiting for the White Sunday CD's to be delivered.. *taps foot impatiently* - we used a company called CD Mule to get them done - and they've been great - www.thecdmule.co.uk - so now I reckon we're just waiting for DHL or some other delivery co. to get a wriggle on a drop the box off at chez Kaupa. Very frustrating.. Lots of people waiting for us to get them a copy, lots of fans waiting to be able to buy a copy, and still they are nowhere to be seen! Grrr! Speaking of CD's, must chase up the Müf CD artwork so we can get that sent off to be printed up. My mate Lydia said she really liked the Müf CD (I lent her a rough copy), she seemed genuinely surprised - I think she was expecting a home-made recording of crap tunes from a local pub band, and not the crafted tunesmanship that the four of us managed to come up with and have had made into a gloriously great-sounding slice of aural sophistication like what Rob B has lovingly prepared. She doesn’t believe that it was me singing though, apparently it sounds nothing like me. I think that's a good thing, never let them see you coming (and other Al Pacino-inspired existentialist ruminations).

I see all the fit women have come out of hibernation now the weather has turned for the better - I think they must all live in a big underground cave during the winter months, and only emerge once the sun has put his hat on. Hip hip hip hooray! How much longer must I petition the government to introduce national "Under 30's Bikini Day"?