But What About the Benders?????

It may have occurred to the regular subscribers of this ongoing journal, that the last few weeks have seen a distinct lack of "Bendering" occurring. This couldn't be further from the truth. As we speak El Grande Queso is giving it large ones in our old haunt Amsterdam. Only this Friday, whilst The King of the Pixies, The Mercenary and Skidley were celebrating the arrival of a Prince, myself, Queso and Maffy were getting down and dirty in Old Bingley Town. Wankered for 9 o'clock, we proceeded to disco dance our way round the "hot" spots of said town, eventually arriving at Bingleys answer to the Ministry of Sound, Porkys!!!(Or whatever its called now). Unfortunately hear my tale ends. A light fitting fell upon my bonce. As i came to terms with this strange occurrence, I was roughly manhandled to the door, and accused of vandalism! In Porkys! for those of you unfamiliar with this ancient Pleasure Dome, the dance floor is more warped than the funky messiah, and held together with piss and vinegar. My protestations of innocence fell on deaf ears as I was rudely shown the door. I would normally at this point organise a boycott of this shed, but hey I reckon I am the only one stupid enough to go there in the first place.

Alas this left me too hungover for the planned bender the following evening round the backwaters of Wilsden. But Crespo, Funky and Shouty were more than willing to take up the slack. Unfortunately they also chose unwisely, ending up in the frontier town of Kieghley. Again, for those unfamiliar with the social mores of the aforementioned town, its poshest restaurant is probably a MaccyD's, and is one of the the only places in the world (with Wigan and Barnsley), that the people of Bradford can look down their noses at. As far as I can make out, the Messiah is still in the doghouse, Crespo is still traumatised, and Shouty ended up sleeping on his kitchen floor after pissing in his shoes.

The future is truly bright.