I was at the pub tonight with a good friend, the girlfriend and my cousin who was working the bar one last night before heading back to Uni. A lot of fun tinged with a touch of sadness. Even though he is only up the road and pops down every month I still miss him. I guess you I kind of get used to his almost daily visits from over the wall.
Anyway, tonight was good. That’s what’s important. I won the pool competition, had a few drinks, and played some cracking cheesy tunes on the jokebox – a must for a night out in The Farmers. Thanks to this jukebox and my cousin’s open mindedness of old tunes, especially more cheesy ones, my musical mind has been ripped apart and opened up to the wonders that it beholds.
Now I rush to the jukebox, pound coin in hand, ready to slam in some Prince, George Micheal, old Reggae and these two songs below. The Mighty Phil, but not the Cadbury Monkey Phil.
I love this song but never ever remember it when I’m sover and at home. It’s a pub/post-pub-Youtube classic. And then there’s this one, largely inspired by the wordly minded Scot.
What a tune. The lyrics are horrible. The tune is largely horrible. But it just works so well. You have to some up to the Borders and watch my cousin strut behind the bar to this song, it’s becoming a tourist attraction. Honest.
I should probably finish this beer and head to bed. Today and has been unplanned but I’ve enjoyed it. Much to do tomorrow, though. Including an earlier oneaday.