Rockin’ gigs this week start with...  Dutch Tilders at the Whitmore Hotel , Morphett Street, Adelaide, on Friday August 27.

Nobody told me they had gigs on Saturday August 28 so I guess everybody will be sittin’ at home watching porn on the interweb.  If so… check out my boxes of tissues for sale on the hEbay. Some have hardly been used at all.

Sunday,  August 29,  Paul Robert Burton swiped the Cat’s Pyjamas gig at the Wine Underground, Pirie Street, the City. Paul Robert is taking time out of his busy schedule in Sydney to pinch gigs of local Adelaide bands. While here he prefers to perform with Andrew Toner (inkjet or laser printer – colour and B&W available in standard and extra capacity) and I believe that, while not being the cat’s pyjamas, they are perhaps, the bees knees.  For blurb go to http://www.paulrobertburton.com/AIM/PRB_Band.html  .  The duo is to perform at the Wine Underground, 121 Pirie St  this Sunday arvo, 29/8, from 5-8 pm

Monday, August 30, SWEET BABY JAMES & ROB EYERS will be rockin’ the Exeter on Rundle with their Double Voodoo magic.

Friday, September 3, swing like granny’s tits at a nudist colony leapfrog exhibition with THE BLUES AVENUE TRIO  at the Whitmore Hotel, Morphett Street, Adelaide.

Saturday September 4, you can catch The Steve Brown band at the Bacchus Bar, Henley Square.Brownie will be there with Rhodesey, Algra-ey and Surmoney to put some smoking blues and soul to the match, to fan the smoulderin' embers of classic torch songs to white hot flame and burn ya fukkin' buns orf! I was getting a bit fed up with that Promo shit blurb. But seriously, folks,take my wife.... ah, fuk. somebody did. Try again... but seriously folks and folkesses, come along the the bacchus bar and listen to the Steve Brown Band while drinking copiously till you trip over the foldback wedges and smash yer fukkin' brains out on the base of the mike stand. Vomit off the veranda railing and piss yer duds. Why not...?  You do it every other fukken' time we're there.

Sorry, everyone. My apologies for that outburst.

 Now... On Sunday, September 5, SWEET BABY JAMES & ROB EYERS will be doin’ the Whitmore Hotel at 2pm by themselfs.

Fuk 'em, i say. They can do it by themselfs, if they want to. Anyway, I will be  with ........

Walking the Line – AUSTRALIA’S NUMBER ONE JOHNNY CASH SHOW on Sunday September 5 and I will be trashing the room at the Middlebrook Winery with an axe. And some small electric-powered hand tools.  It's on Father's day so if you have a father - or even know of one - bring him along. he'll love it.

Gig and booking details will follow.

Later – I will post those details some other day. In the meantime, you have this to go on with….

While enjoying a counter lunch my attention to the fat sausages and gravy was diverted once too often by the goings on in the galoot standing next to me chugging double rums. He was white as Tony Abbot’s Ostraya policy and shaking like 6-foot mains powered dildo.  “Get the tap jockey to chuck a bit of cow juice in your glass and you’ll have a rum milkshake in half a minute,” I sez. “You’re as white as a fairy’s fib and shaking like you’ve got the Eveready bunny up yer arse!”
“That’s because I’m... I’m fukken  scared mate. I’m in a horror story of me own making.”
“Gettin’ married, eh?”
“Worse. A vagillion times worse.”
I mopped up the last of the delicious onion gravy, got a new pint and said: “Spill your guts, dad, it’ll only cost you a rum chaser for me to listen.”
Without a second’s delay he ponied up a platter of rum shots, inhaled one and said: “It started two  years ago when I brought a baby mud crab back from Darwin....”
A dark cloud came in to the pub with an icy wind behind it, blotting out the lights and laying a moist chill on the room. I shivered and peered into the gloom as he went on with his terrifying tale.
“He was so small when I got him... I called him Dinky because he was so cute. I was gonna feed him up and have mud crab sandwiches for Christmas dinner so I drove him all the way down here and made a little swamp for him out where the septic tank overflows into the garden. The little fella loved it there; he thrived. He got bigger and bigger, much quicker than I thought he would.
“Living on your poowater, eh? Must be powerful stuff; what do you eat?”
“Same as everybody else at the nuclear storage dump cafeteria... pies, pasties, fission chips.  Come the first Christmas he looked like a pretty good feed but I thought I might hold him over for Good Friday. Make a tray of sandwiches. But four months later Dinky wasn’t so fukken dinky. He was fukken huge... I went to grab him and he snipped orf me finger...”
The guy held up a hand that was one finger short of a Mason’s handshake.
“And he was strong, too. The next day his cracked a hole in the side of the septic tank and moved in there. And  then he got bigger... and bigger. I used to lift orf the inspection plate to talk to him but over the past year he has become silent. He doesn’t burble out his crabby little responses any more, he just stares back at me. And I didn’t like the look in his eyes, neither... the stalks would slowly extend till they almost reached me and they’d give me a sort of ... hungry look. it put the fukken’ wind up me, I’m telling yer. And big?? I could hear his legs scraping both sides of the tank and I started to worry that he might be strong enough to break out.
Then... last night... I was dropping off a pollie at the white house when I felt something weird tickle my arse. Then the tip of a giant crab feeler pokes up outer the bowl and waggles between me legs. I jumped up and there, staring up at me from the bottom of the bowl was....was  a huge crab’s eye. It winked at me and I screamed, Mate... I screamed like a fukken sheila... and got the fuk out of there. I was here at sparrow’s fart this morning and here’s where I’ll stay, mate. I’m too scared to go back. What Am I gonna do? Dink’s gonna break out and eat me”
I Hummmed and hemmed for a minute. “You still wanna eat him, though?”
“Spose so...  He’s pretty big, but...“
“Pretty big. Ha! I used to knock around Hindley Street in me early days and caught crabs that were so big it looked like you had a council bus running round in your duds.
“Give us your address and meet me at your joint in an hour or so. Bring a coupla dozen loaves of bread and a box of butter. And a few mates... “
“ To help fight Dink?”
“Nah...  to help you eat all the crab sandwiches.”
Piece of piss,  really. It’s not often a muddie is presented to you already locked in the cooking pot.  I just covered the septic tank with kindling and a tonne of mallee roots, tipped on a bottle of metho to make it go whoosh when I tossed on the lighted match and sat back to wait till it came to the boil. The bloke and his mates turned up as directed... the fire had got away from me a bit and burned up the back of his house. He was a bit snaky about the damage but I pointed out that he was about to eat Dink and not the other way round and he took himself in hand. We used a sledge hammer to crack the top of the septic tank and a jack hammer to crack Dink open. I didn’t stay for tea... I’m a bit funny about eating stuff out of other people’s septic tanks.

Broadband - Gidday Ostrayans, I’ve already started my takeover by grabbing this prime errr... interweb space. First, I need to explain why I fumbled the ‘Broadband’  questions. You see, I reckon it was a commo union worker's tricky question that made be forget that I really did know about broadbands. Heck... my favourite broadband is the Bangles! They’re great aren’t they? I especially liked that catchy tune that poked gentle fun at the way those sand-dwelling Egyptoid foreigners walked. I still do that dance around the office whenever I need to get a laugh out of my bloke mates.  So I do know about broadbands. Gee... I was lucky enough to grow up with some great music by another of my favourite broadbands - Josie and the PussyCats.  They were great and I still love that song of theirs that goes  ‘Doo Doo dumm,  dee dee dee dats, we are Josie and the PussyCats!’  It’s all right, that song, I reckon.  I mean, we all know bloke bands are much better but I’ve always had a soft spot for broadbands because they have ladies in them but then, I’m somewhat prejudiced because, well, my own daughters are girl-ladies. True!

Now I’ll let you know about some other music shows going on this week but I will give you a warning... some of these so-called entertainers will be communists who write and perform their own tunes. Look,  there are enough good tunes already written and we can always get more from America if we need to. Any Ostrayan  who starts writing their own songs  is a communist.  But don’t let that stop you from having a lovely evening out. Cripes, you might even ask the so-called musicians if they know how to play Walk Like an Egyptian and you can do the crazy dance for them.

Now... Wednesday night at the Whitmore has the Shady Blues Band. They’re marvellous... even though they sometimes have a lady singing with them.

Friday night is going to be great. Before I win any election I like nothing more than some good old rock and roll and this Friday August 20 the Cat’s Pyjamas and the Rockin  FJ’s will be performing for Legends Rock and Roll Club at the Slovenian Club, Brompton… oh dear, that club at Brompton sounds sort of foreign, doesn’t it.  Oh well, It should be all right.

Also on Friday night August 20 Sweet Baby James and Rob Eyers will be at the Rob Roy Hotel from 6 pm toll 9 pm. Everything good there, all good white anglo-saxon names. Just go to the loo if you don't know one or two of the songs thay play. Listeneing to new songs can also make you a communist.

Saturday Night you can watch my bloodbath victory in the comfort of the front bar of the Daniel O’Connell Hotel in North Adelaide as you jig along to the great pop vibe ( I know a lot more hip words and phrases like that) the snazzy sounds (see) of pan!c, something every unionist is going to do when I get control of the gun cupboard. PANIC you dirty commo scum. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha etc.

Sunday at the Wine Underground will feature Hoy-Hoy!! Playing Texas Blues as it should be played – very nicely. The band will start their first bracket (see, I even know musical stuff as well)...  their first bracket at 5 pm.

On Sunday I will be humbly thanking God for crushing and killing my enemies. If you want to hear my hit song again go to Wingnut .