As we drove up the main road to Livingstones, a car came flying out of a side street bang into a car coming toward us, if we'd have been 10 seconds earlier, it would have been us.
The young lad driving looked as though this was his 1st incident but we all kinda got the feeling he'd borrowed his Mothers car - without her knowing - and was scooting his mates all over town in it, you could see by his expression somehow.
Anyways, Livingstones: "Fekin 'ell it's full in 'ere!" It was, absolutley jam packed.
There was a lot going on, a bucking bull ride included.
Gig was OK but as is often the case in pubs when we go on late and everone is pished, not everyone wants to see a set of silly bastards fukin about, so they opt to stand close to the front just glowering at us and gesticulating things, wanker usually.
Not surprising that they're Rambo types who don't like people paying us more attention than them.
"Whassamatta mate? Wanna see more tit? Go look in the fukin mirror"
Anyway, fuk 'em!
We're being payed to do it and so just concentrate on getting pished and the people who are watching more involved.
It was the general concensus that we were all glad to get out, that place was SO LOUD my ears were still ringing when I got to bed.
Good do, we always like playing Barnsley more than anywhere else but we were on too late.
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