Fira B! Sweet Poo Smell – Grumpy Old Bastard

Today, Sonic Breakfast starts again in earnest. The long, wet summer is nearly done. 

 It was a noble aim to cut back on reviewing British festivals but those spare weekends at home twiddling my thumbs became so dull – thus, pretty much every weekend this summer was consumed under canvas. In time, I’ll link back to those reviews for EFestivals.

 The number of unread Sonic Breakfast E-mails rose. I hope nobody thinks I’ve been rude. I did spot one particularly interesting mail though. 

 ‘Dear Sean‘, it probably didn’t say. ‘We’d love you to come to Palma-Mallorca to watch some bands. We’ll put you up in a hotel on the edge of town that you’ll struggle to find at night after a few too many beers. We’d love it if you had lunch on us as well.’

 I would have been foolish to turn down such an appealing offer from the Balearic Islands’ cultural ministry. I was able to get some annual leave from my day job and I now write this whilst sipping a cocktail at the side of a pool. (Some of these words are not true.)

(Click on page 2 to read about last night)

 

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