6.05pm were in the mill clutching 1 litre of beam and, for some reason that only mel can explain, 20 cans of lion brown.
6.35pm. several strong drinks in quick succession and the arrival of the lesser spotted yak of doom signals chrome practice.
pick up snuff and and make full steam for the battle ship king street.
enough bourbon to fill the nile delta and a brazilian rainforest of dope later and our glorious and benevolent leader is treated to a for mels eyes only punk rock showcase.
which would be fucking awesome if we were ac/dc.
a couple of hours of blah blah gibber gibber, wheres dwayne, no you're a cunt later our merciful and all knowing president and her loyal, grimey tank commander find themselves back at castle blitzer with 2 computers, 2 rca leads, one amp input, an aircraft carriers worth of mp3's and the attitude that if i don't play it its shit
match abandoned, mp3 play count ..0
saturday. 6.15. leap out of hammock and scurry to the poop deck, gonna be late for work, bladder the size of glorious roman empire
wrong day moron, its saturday...oh well, up now
coffee and cigarettes while i make some coffee and roll some cigarettes.
7.15am
start the day several jugend sized measures of vodka and redbull
7.20 frantic yet successful scramble to the poop deck
8.15am
figure maybe fortified enough to attempt toast
8.16am
pour another drink, email bono and tell him that i have 2 slices of toast bread that i want to give to charity and does he know any africans that will get more out of them than me
9.23
eat one slice of toast and send a another note to bono explaining that due to the rise in administration costs, starving black child now only gets one slice.
10,30am
all knowing,all seeing, radiant death goddess arises, i have a drink to celebrate and weep tears of pure joy.
noon.
order my my personal honor guard, the lesbian doomkorps vixens, to set up a sliding defensive perimeter in wanganui.
12.30
celebrate my military genius with a very large vodka and tonic, a new garden shed and a blunt to make willy nelson proud.
humbly kneel before my president as she assimilates my impeccable music taste onto her hard drive of despair
the greater spotted slavic plaited yak arrives in the coastal defense cruiser.
we load in the munitions for the evenings assault.
aotearoa jugend has many allies and this is proved as im greeted by a platoon of the undead, my old friend and trusted warrior von toxic proving once again that a great army is nothing without a great hat.
12 metres of yellow twine, 4 pink clothes pegs and a man sized dollop of camo netting and the flagship of the jugend wolfpack, the u-666, is to the untrained eye, nothing more than a pub with some plastic camo netting hanging from the wall....genius.
back on battle ship king i leave andy to watch for ice bergs and gather my most trusted generals around me. the overlord scowls, the trendwhore mutters irritably.....we hate the kids, we hate their silly clothes.
we discuss tactics and pour over the maps. betty, resplendent in her makos battle armor gets a tea towel.
i hurriedly quench my thirst and inhale deeply, war doesn't wait for the lazy or the tardy.
there is barely time to wonder why the charts now resemble a red hot pussy liquor cd and several healthy rails of cheap biker crank before its time for WAR
Wall of Silents improve with every outing and they have always been good.
they are unfuckable
thundering
nice turnout of denim warriors, scum, freaks and swamp mutants lap it up.
some people can look fucking stupid in a sailors hat, trendwhore isn't one of them.
now that j has throttled the liberator back to a manageable 500 watts their crushing war hammer swings with a headroom straight from the swirling heat of hades itself.
Horror Story
ive been stumbling, hallucinating, heckling, vomiting and above all else shaking my ass to various toxic incarnations for over half my life now.
Flesh d-vice aside ,when i think of new zealand rock n roll(the real stuff) a high percentage of it invariably comes from new plymouth.
one of lifes little pleasures is throwing your goat in the air, spilling beer over someone infront of you and yelling mister monster as loud as possible.
i dont care what other people think, yelling at bands is FUN
and like most things in life consistency pays dividends
they played angelique, one of the greatest songs ever
toxic jnr fucked up the key change, was promptly fired, then rehired later at what i hope was a lower rate
classy.
BC
black chrome choir
gave a 120% from the get go
ensured that although i was crap i had a fucking good time
and how could i not
trendwhore nailed denim demon
Dick Dynamite and the Dopplegangers
rounded off the evening brilliantly
i danced, i yelled, i bounced, i spilt more beer on people
i whooped and hollered as he stood on his bass
i screamed and gibbered as they did pet cemetery
fucking perfect
what a hell of an evening
it was a game of two halves
a good hard fight
and rock n roll was the winner on the day
having fun is...fun
a 21 howitzer u-666 salute to everyone of you misfits and miscreants that put in an effort to fly, hire cars, hitch, turn off the tv and the stove and came along to take one for the team
the lion brown mvp award - tyrone..good work, gave it everything
arnotts soggy biscuit shield - mutante...just excellent
couldnt do it without you..can i pay you on payday cup - andy, jamaine, ben and betty...thank you
fucking hell its matt barnes medal - matt barnes
i couldnt give a shit what you think cos my president could beat the crap out of you and still give me shit at the same time ribbon of valor - melanie
- Wolfgang Blitzer
**photos and video by Maleficient.
