Jumping into a sea of hands.

Last night was amazing. I can remember it clearly. People that know me (stalkers are not taken out of this equation if I have any stalkers) I live in Derby at the moment because I go to the university. There is a place in Derby called the Old Bell that regularly has band nights. I went to one of these band nights...obviously. I went to see the band Gama Bomb. I had never heard of these fellahs before but from what I had heard of them they seemed good. My friend had bought tickets and I went with him. So off we toddled and entered into the arms of the Old Bell.
It seemed that their were a few bands on before the main act came on. In fact it seems that the drummer/vocalist of the first band added me on facebook, which is good. I then saw about two more acts after them (who were equally amazing) before we got to Gama Bomb.
Guess what I did during one of the performances? For the first time in my life I stage dived. My friend also stage dived and so did a few others......and yes we were all responsible stage divers.
Oh to the folly of youth.
All I can say the night was full of good songs, my ears are still ringing and it's about three o'clock in the afternoon.
I forgot to write this small story at the beginning. My friend and myself were about two minutes away from the Old Bell when someone walked past in the street. He turned to us and said something that went along the lines of,
"You both look like your going to the Gama Bomb gig."

"Yes we are" said I and my friend in unison (We may not have both said yes but who cares...this is my narrative dammit.

He replied thusly, "Oh man I need to shake your hand" He then shook our hands and walked off.


First of all, it is very nice of him for shaking our hands because we have an amazing taste in music (joke.....actually I wasn't joking ha ha.....that wasn't funny.) It would also seem that we 'look' like we were going to the gig. This either shows that both my friend and I both have appropriate style for whatever situation we are in or that person was psychic.
Any whoozle. Tis time to end this small entry into the story of my life.

I can't think of anything interesting or witty to type here........I went to Ed's blog and I didn't even get a lousy t- shirt. (Was that I funny joke?
Bye bye
Ciao.
Over and Out
Ed.

P.S---I may edit this post, as I always write blogs quickly. I should stop writing apologies for bad spelling, punctuation and so forth at the end of my blogs. I'm pretty sure that most people get the picture by now. See you in the next blog.