Dave says,
Well, I’m a little late this time around due to complications with cosmetic hippocampus surgery,but not to worry, the voices have all gone, like a pile of popcorn by my feet, eaten by unseen pigeons. Also, the lineup hadn’t been solidified till now, so let the nailbiting cease!
Let’s welcome back Ms. Mari Martin and her oversized vocal pipes to our musical carousel of a stage this week. I know, I know, she just played here last Saturday with her rootin-tootin band of musical outlaws, but this time around we’re really mixing it up.
First, throw Mr. Mike DiBari, glitarist deluxe, a veteran ack-ack gunner, into a large pot. Then add the pulsations and random cacklings of that tonsorially-challenged timekeeper; Mr. Steevee Chaggaris. Fold in two quarts of vodka-infused bass by yours truly, then pour in 180 pounds of fatback organisms and keyboard stylings of the prolific Mr. Mark Retallack. Beat well. Strain through a felt hat. Insert large funnel into trepanned hole in skull.Pour. Ahhh…. Honey, I’m home……
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