The Chapman Family onstage
OXFORD HAS NO PUBS! What’s with you Oxford?! Shit. We arrived in Oxford at lunchtime feeling rather ravenous, world weary and saddle sore. My only wish was to sit in a sun-drenched beer garden with a delicious pint of ale and a big fat helping of good old gastro pub cooking. Images of sausages and mash and steak and ale pie were dancing around behind my eyelids, arousing my food gland with promise of gravy soaked delectability.
After walking up and down the same shitty bit of high-street for what seemed like three days, I realised my hopes and dreams were going to be dashed like brittle bones on the jagged rocks of real life. There was one pub – one! – and it didn’t start serving food till 8pm. What pub on planet earth doesn’t serve a traditional pub lunch? It was fucking dead as well, so my advice to you, The Hobgoblin Pub in Oxford, is to start doing lunch immediately and you won’t be spunking cash on staff sitting around picking their arses and yawning all fucking day. You’ll actually be MAKING some money like a real business.
Hopefully today we’re getting some dancing lessons from Heartbreak’s Travolta-esque frontman, Sebastian [Muravchix]. He’s pretty much the best frontman since Freddie Mercury. Hymens were erupting all over Wrexham during their set last night from the raw sexual power exploding off the stage. I’m pretty sure that I’m pregnant after watching him for three nights on the trot.
If you haven’t seen them yet, then you should find out when they’re playing near you, buy a ticket, book the next day off work and buy yourself some rubber undies for when you cream your jeans during their opening number.
Heard a song by Frankmusik on the radio today………yep.