MASSIVE STOCK-TAKING CLEARANCE this Friday July 3 when The Grouse opens their guitar and drum cases and takes stock of the situation before bashing and flanging a bunch of songs into end-of-the-financial-year oblivion. Tax, Tax and more Tax as The Grouse strains your audio sensory appendages to the limit and opens a spreadsheet for you to have a lie-down on.  ALL SONGS MUST GO in this F-Whopping (that's my new abbreviation for fukken whopping) whorehouse clearance to make way for whatever's next. And where will you get all these bargains???? At the Norwood Hotel. Right on the edge of the Parade, at Norwood. Sets open at 9.00 pm.... Don't be late... you might miss some great tunes at knockdown deliveries from Stu "Designer" Day on geetar, Rob "Ripp-off" Boundy on the bongoes and Denis "Dis-count" Surmon on the plank.  Take advantage of the hu-freakin'-mungus sell-out before July 3 turns into July 4.  Cripes, I'm knackered now. These end-of-the-freakin'-financial-year sales take it right out of me these days.

But, after a cup of tea and a couple of buttered Yo-Yos we're ready to be up and at 'em on Saturday - yes, that day with a poo right in its middle. By then  I will be fighting fit for a ripping evening of fun and semi-naked frolicking with pan!c at the Daniel O'Connell Hotel, North Adelaide, July 4! Yes, July 4. The Fouth of July... a big (BIG) day for the Seppos. According to my atomic siderially-offset and astral parsec-compensated wristwatch clock, July the Fourth  will .76 of a second longer than July the Thirdth. Oh! Hang on... shoot! the battery's flat. Well... whatever. I was just goin', like, you know, Aww, Gee-willikers. Gosh-durn it. Dang. Shucks. Look out !!!! - he's got a gun!!!!

I'm a bit sorry if I scared you with that last bit. But not completely sorry. It's pretty funny to see and hear people screaming and diving for cover.  Oh, Christ... he has got a gun !! Pow! Pow! Puwheeeee (that was a bullet ricocheting offa the steel plate in muh head). Click, Click, click!. He's outa ammo! Git him!  We jumps him and wrassles him to the ground. Now...  shout this in his ear: "Go to the Wine Underground on Pirie Street Sunday afternoon, July the Fifth (a day that might be a bit shorter than July the Fourth, a point Ah could verify if Ah can git mah A-tomic sideways pascalated wristwatch doohickey working properly ) Shoot... where was I?  July 5, Rhumboogie will be a-rockin'  and a-stompin at the Pirie Street Wine Underground from 5 o'clock pm, and...and.... and  ... "  Lawks-a-Lordy me, I need to have  lie down. I'm all in after that. Somebody stood on the back of my neck in the fight and I'm not feeling so good now.