So here I am. This is me. Just as I was born, allbeit a lot bigger now, weighing much more and having a bit more hair. I have more teeth too. Oh, and love hairs, ah, the love hairs. Hmmm. Clearly I’m fairly different from the way I was born as it happens. But, I’m still me. So tough.

I’m in this band too. This one you’ve clicked on here. Or maybe you found us whilst looking for a chiropadist in Melton Mowbray who’s called Adam butcher, and your spelling has gone a little awry cos it’s Wednesday, and you’re wishing it was Friday. Well, it’s not. So focus. Cos we AINT cutting your toenails. No sireee. (NB, we might)

We would, however, come play a gig for you. And if you’re paying well we could convince Adam to change his second name to butcher, just for the one night.

So if you found us by accident, or you came here on purpose, check us out. We could come and rock the moobs off your venue, or come and offend your family at a christening. Or perhaps proper mess up your kid at his barmitzvah. Your choice. We don’t discriminate, unless your ugly and want to be our wife. Then we discriminate heavily and with much badness. You’ve been warned.

By the way, all the songs are Adam’s. It’s his screwed up youth you’re hearing about, his old girlfriends, past bands, small penis, bad teeth, soft hands and crap cars. I’m just the bass player, so those low frequency smooth nice bits, with the odd fuck up you can hear, that’s me. Not the moany stuff, that’s Adam. The Bangy clangy bashy stuff, that’s Steve. More from him later.

Note to self, next album title idea ‘We’re not chiropodist butchers” (must remember to tell Adam, he’ll love it)

You can go away now.

Bye!