I went to a hypnotist to see if I could get rid of a dirty habit that was set to cost me a lot of money in the future, thanks to increases in tax.  I have been freely nugget mining in my nostrils for many years now, enjoying the spoils in as many ways as you can imagine including wiping them on ATM keypads, but with the mining tax looming I’m afraid I have to quit, send the fingers to the dole office. Not so for the pinky, it still gets to do the ear wax but it’s not quite the same as a nugget mining expedition after a day working in the dusty yard or in the shed with the sander. Anyhow, it’s hard to drop a habit, said the hypnotist, it’s best to change it into something  useful, but, to be honest I wouldn’t have a fukken clue what a useful habit was so he got me to chuck a dart at a “useful habits” selection board and I hit “be a helpful companion”.

I don’t know what went wrong but I trotted out of the hypnotist’s chambers on all fours and got run down by the council sweeping machine when I stopped in the middle of the footpath to nip my itchy scrotum.  However, I have a positive disposition and realised that my subsequent hospitalisation was proof of the effectiveness of hypnotism. So I am going to hypnotise you into going to some gigs this weekend. Now.... make yourself comfortable and begin to relax.... let all the stresses and worries run out of you like a pee in a toilet dream after a big night on the turps.  Ye-e-e-e-s-s-s-s.  Now you are feeling much relieved and relaxing deeper. Listen to my gentle clacking of words on the keyboard   while you stare at the swinging pocket watch.... listening to the rhythmic tick-tocking: and :

You are deeply relaxed, you love a rockin’ band, you love a good rockin’ band and you love a kilo of buffalo wings while listening to the good rockin' bluesy sounds of Sweet Baby James and Rob Eyers as they work their Double Voodoo magic at the Gilbert Street Hotel on Thursday night, June 17.

Keep your eye on the watch .... and :

Listen to my soothing keyboard words....

You see yourself going to the Semaphore Workers Club on Friday night, June 18, to rock out with your gender defining appendage out to the swooney sounds of the Steve Brown Band... feel the groove, there is love in the room and you know where to find it...it’s under the pool table.

and :

Now, you see a road in front of you... it’s the road that leads to Gawler... hang on a bit, erase that... it’s the road that leads to Goolwa where you will go on Saturday Night,  June 19, down the liquorice brick road to the Gawler Steam Exchange wherever that is to see the Steve Brown Band. I know you’ve already seen them on Friday at the Workers’ Club  but you haven’t seen them at the Steam Exchange.... for Christ's sake wake up to yourself will you! ...NO, don't wake up... go back to sleep and relax and go back to the Gawler - ah fuck it!  -- the Goolwa Steam Exchange and when you get there send me a text on how to find the place.... Relax, let yourself go deeper and deeper... see the fob watch in your mind’s eye..... .  You see it really clearly because your mind’s eye is not as blind as your football eyes.... you fukken one-eyed, lame-brained Cats supporter.... relax, relax....

It’s now Sunday June 20 and you know that the famous songwriter Robby is performing at the Promethean with The Preacher Denis Surmon on double bass and Jeff articled Clarke on drums... be there for the afternoon one-off show at 5 pm. Pay at the door or Book at Bass, tickets are going as fast your pay on Friday night at the pub..... relax, relax...

Now I want you to really relax because this is the trickiest part: just down the road at the Wine Underground, Pirie Street, at around 5 pm, the Preacher is supposed to be onstage with the Steve Brown Band featuring Gini from the Groove at roughly the same time he will be at the  Promethean. Yes... I know it sounds like a complete fuck-up but I want you to relax and see the whole thing as a master stroke of meticulous planning and execution... the fuck-up did not happen – it did not happen .. All is well...Sweet Baby James and Rob Eyers materialised out of the ectoplasmic ether to cover the fuckwitt’s fuck-up for the first hour. So now you can relax, relax, don’t do it, when you want to go through it, relax, don’t do it, when you want to c-u-u-u-u-u-um-m-m-m-m-m-m.

I beg your pardon...I did not molest you while you were under hypnosis. No! I did not... I had nothing to do with the mess in your duds! No! Wait... don’t call the police... I couldn’t go through all that again...  I ... I can let you have this session for free if you promise not to say anything about it. Ok? Good.