Well I got here at the appointed hour and gave LL the mahoosive box of chocolates I had brought for her, advising her to hide them from BM. This she swiftly did.
BM gave me some Lidl beer, put his going out shirt on, LL bossed him about a bit and then we went to the concert. Ackchooly, we went to the village pub, which is evidently a hot bed of illicit affairs, local politics and feuds, much like the rest of the village.
After more beer we got into the amfitheatre thing and BM produced more Lidl beer and enough sausage rolls to feed Somalia. We tucked in miserably
The cream of Pissouri society was there, many looking like criminals, extras from East Enders or both.
We successfully ignored some dodgy DJ and then a fat bird dressed on the front half of a zebra costume appeared, introduced herself as Dusky Springfield
and quickly massacred two songs.
At last the Beakles arrived (I had never noticed that Ringo was Japanese) and began to play. LL commented on how short Ringo was (she is obsessed with tallness) but I pointed out that he was sitting down
The wigs were less convincing than BM's, John and Paul didn't look like them and George stood at the back mainly and wore sunglasses. Miss D may have some of the concert on her answering machine
At some point people started dancing and the arthritic jerkings of the locals in the half light looked exactly like the set of a zombie film. One wumman danced like a chicken, a ginger bloke could only dance with his elbows and a bloke in a pink shirt moved about in an uncoordinated manner. We did not join in
2 or 3 times the Beakles performed something that approximated a Beatles song as heard through a dodgy transistor on Medium Wave. Then the Mexican Waves started
More sausage rolls were enjoyed. BM screamed appreciatively from time to time. LL gave him looks.
While they played Yellow Submarine as an encore the stadium emptied rapidy, which may have been their plan.
More beer followed (not Lidl and not BM's) and then LL told us it was bedtime
Will find pics later
