The End of the year
Well, we’ve nearly made it through another year of Brexit related bollocks to finally arrive at the December – I think it’s still called that .
Even in the office they’ve joined in the political correctness madness and instead of the Xmas (X is in the place of Christ!) piss-up, we are now attending the ‘years end party’. The result is still the same, everyone trying to avoid drinking the ‘Zirbenschnaps’ that the boss is trying to press on everyone. It really does smell like some kind of urinal cleaner. Probably tastes like it too.
Midlife Crisis are also kicking out the jams with festive fun and are meeting up to plan our conquest of Europe (excluding Britain, of course who have decided to strike trade deals with the outer Aleutian islands instead – a much better prospect).All this needs to be minutely planned. Starting off in the lower palatinate and spreading like an itchy rash over the state of Bavaria finally arriving back at the same table next year to plan our conquest of Europe before a large part of the band decide to retire to the island of saint Martinique with the accumulated millions that have been earned from 30 years of slogging around the pubs and clubs. Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like. It’s not all sex and drugs and rock’ n roll you know. Actually there’s only one third of that saying left over. I’ll leave it to you to work out which bit.
It’s been a good year. We started in Schwarzenfeld (see blog) and finished at a wedding, with various ports of call in between. I’ve enjoyed each and every gig this year, each one had its own character and that’s why a years end review and party is useful to put things in perspective, look back and contemplate that things aren’t as bad as they seem – we can survive anything – even Trump!
Merry Christmas, may your god go with you and we’ll see you all again in 2019!