When time stood still at The Electric Palace
This weekend I changed my Blogger profile picture:
(I'll explain later).
Now if I'd been wearing it at last night's Mr Scruff gig, no-one would have batted an eyelid.
Girls in bear hats, boys in crocheted hats, pork pie hats and baseball caps, an old man in shades with a wispy Salvador Dail-style moustache and goatee, Mr Grigg in a Wobble Control tee-shirt and a white bearded steward who looked like he could quite easily have done the James Robertson Justice voiceover in the surreal track, Fish.
And still the Electric Palace clock said five past nine.
My blog characters, all bar Pelly and Anakin Sheepwash, decided to give the evening a miss. I can't think why.
And still the Electric Palace clock said five past nine.
Several cups of chilli and mint tea later, getting down with the young, the funky and just plain freaky, we were ready for home. We sneaked out at a quarter to one, The Enchanted Village taxi driver, Dermot, waiting for us just up the road, his twin 'for hire' signs winking at us from under a Bridport street light.
We climbed into the taxi to Lionel Richie singing Three Times A Lady on Wessex FM.
Back at the Electric Palace, the clock still said five past nine.
The stars blazed in the night sky as Taxi Dermot, who once lived next door to The Angry Brigade in Stoke Newington, drove us up into the hills.
I had a thought - maybe Mr Scruff could be our DJ when we celebrate the Queen's diamond jubilee in the streets next year. But then I remembered the time when I was almost lynched for introducing a musical round at the annual quiz. That was the time when the hall clock went backwards at breakneck speed.
I think the church clock actually struck thirteen.
So maybe not. Keep away from the trout.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
Now if I'd been wearing it at last night's Mr Scruff gig, no-one would have batted an eyelid.
Girls in bear hats, boys in crocheted hats, pork pie hats and baseball caps, an old man in shades with a wispy Salvador Dail-style moustache and goatee, Mr Grigg in a Wobble Control tee-shirt and a white bearded steward who looked like he could quite easily have done the James Robertson Justice voiceover in the surreal track, Fish.
Trout are freshwater fish and have underwater weapons
Trout are very valuable and immensely powerful
Keep away from the trout
Trout are very valuable and immensely powerful
Keep away from the trout
Mr Scruff himself, with headphones atop his smooth head like a Roman emperor wearing a crown of laurel leaves. His adoring public whooped and hollered to pulsating beats and Latin rhythms.
And still the Electric Palace clock said five past nine.
My blog characters, all bar Pelly and Anakin Sheepwash, decided to give the evening a miss. I can't think why.
And still the Electric Palace clock said five past nine.
Several cups of chilli and mint tea later, getting down with the young, the funky and just plain freaky, we were ready for home. We sneaked out at a quarter to one, The Enchanted Village taxi driver, Dermot, waiting for us just up the road, his twin 'for hire' signs winking at us from under a Bridport street light.
We climbed into the taxi to Lionel Richie singing Three Times A Lady on Wessex FM.
Back at the Electric Palace, the clock still said five past nine.
The stars blazed in the night sky as Taxi Dermot, who once lived next door to The Angry Brigade in Stoke Newington, drove us up into the hills.
I had a thought - maybe Mr Scruff could be our DJ when we celebrate the Queen's diamond jubilee in the streets next year. But then I remembered the time when I was almost lynched for introducing a musical round at the annual quiz. That was the time when the hall clock went backwards at breakneck speed.
I think the church clock actually struck thirteen.
So maybe not. Keep away from the trout.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
Oh, go ahead and make the arrangements - they'll all be disappointed if you don't.
ReplyDeletePS Love the dress and shoes.