Possibly turning Japanese !

The End of an Earhole . .

Go to hell and t' roadie,

Go t' Elland Roadie,

Go tell Aunt Rhodie

That the Old Grey Git is gone.

(Anon)

Gaudete ! . . . The old Git is gone !

No grey in the band anymore.

No disgusting belly in the band anymore.

No wittering about volume levels.

(Probably hardly any wittering at all, but you can't be too sure . . )

No slip-sliding in after all the gear's been set up.

No slip-sliding out to the toilet every ten minutes.

Fresh air for Timmy at the back and, with more oxygen, perhaps 'The Eleven' at long last . . ? - Empathy !

He's also no mean drummer, will give you a song well sung and, as far as harmonies go, he's equally at home with high, low or in between . . . he'll even model your frocks if the moon is full and the wind is warm and South Easterly . . . cute butt, too (allegedly) !

Needless to say, his CV is equally impressive. A well travelled Troubadour, he's been on tour with Mr. Sting, amongst others, played at major festivals and he played in the Titanic ! . . . AND he comes to The Bones on a Bosman !

He's just what The Bones needed as, (at the time of bringing you this Good News), the World trembles and quakes at the prospect of Dubya's finger on the button . . . can The Bones save the World ?

(Keen observers have already started noticing the difference after recent gigs at MacRory's, especially the November one. Just read the GuestBook . . . first Richard GBH, then Kai, then Juke Joint, now Sean. All making their mark in 'The Zone'.)

O U T with Misery - I N with F U N !

Just watch those Bones go, driven on to new heights by a re-energised Riddim Section that can now fire on all cylinders, one that can cruise at altitude long enough to sustain a flight of unbridled fancy and re-fuel itself in the process in mid-flight, instead of having to stay on Terra Firma so that the old git was never too far from a bog !

That was the only zone he was ever comfortable in !

O U T with the stiff, stale, hard unyielding stool of Yesterday's Constipation and the constant drip, drip, drip of transmission fluid and/or coolant and/or essential oils all over the set lists. Away with him to the ex-Bone-yard ! - He shoulda seen the Dick Doctor years ago . . and as for being in a band with 'Laffin' in its name, well . . . talk about a fish out o' water . . . old ' T ' was a stickleback in the Sahara.

I N with the frighteningly fast, free-fingered fluidity of four-on-the-floor flexibility, and a sensational set of fully-functioning faculties, windproof, waterproof, galvanised, and with a ten year anti-corrosion warranty thrown in at no extra charge.

This Deal was too good to pass up . . . . . so

The T-shirts were his idea, of course. (Get it now ?)

Fancy trying to shift WHITE T-shirts ?? . . . Did PigPen ever wear white ? - I ask you. ('T' can always use 'em as nappies in his doitage.) Still, the posters were canny. It was a surprise that so few were sold ! - Timmy could've got a replacement stick or two if only . . . Ah well, that's life !

There's loads left . . . . serves him right. Took a bath ! - What a stupid old Tosser he was.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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It's Landlord Ian's Birthday. He might even sing !

("Yodel - aye - ee - tee, Lads 'n' Lasses !")

And another thing . . .

And you also get a Bones Poster

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and lastly,