#brass rail pub 2

[sinceileftyoublog]

St. Lenox Interview: Good Waterpark Design

Photo by Aaron Cansler

BY JORDAN MAINZER

You may think you have very little in common with a PhD holder and lawyer who also happens to be a brilliant singer-songwriter. But Andrew Choi, who records as St. Lenox, continues to cull from his experiences, whether they've happened to him or others, to tell tales that transcend background, let alone educational level or salary. His studio albums have followed the same format: ten songs centering around a theme, often presented as a gift to others, sometimes as a gift to himself. They've covered Choi's own experiences with life and love, his father's immigration to the United States, and our collective existence during periods of political upheaval. And though his latest, Ten Modern American Work Songs, out today via Don Giovanni and Anyway, technically strays from the pattern (it has an introductory track for a total of 11), it sports everything you love about a St. Lenox record, from Choi's powerhouse vocals and diaristic lyrics to underratedly complex arrangements of chintzy chamber pop and hearty indie rock.

Written as a (facetiously non-financial) 10-year reunion contribution to the NYU Law Class of 2014, Ten Modern American Work Songs is notably filled with regret, the songs' protagonists often struggling to reconcile their current status symbols with the familial warmth they've left behind. But it also imbues a universal hope, for things as tangible as fairer wages and better work-life balance and as abstract as gaining or maintaining happiness. "Victory!" shouts Choi on "Courtesan", the album's first proper song after its introductory vignette. "After seven years of agony, I get to be a courtesan this year." Atop a swirling synth arpeggio and steady, marching drums, the anthemic chorus is both a shout of moral panic and a weight lifted off of the protagonist's shoulders: He can finally make some money. The tone is sarcastic on "Lust for Life", rife with organ, harmonic synths, and toy-like mallet percussion; though the protagonist is happy that he's going to be part of unionization efforts, he recognizes the fact that his job is thankless, that "Everyone comes running back to us when the hour is dire or they are near death."

A lesser songwriter would make songs about labor sung from the perspective of someone making good money, even if they are paying off debt, sound cynical, especially given increasing wealth inequality. Though Choi is careful to separate his voice from that of the protagonists, it's clear his lived experience contributes to the album's realness. It's why a song like "Rudy" works, about a classmate who prioritized family life over the corporate ladder; the protagonist calls himself, in contrast, a "big city, fast-talking asshole" and a "weeknight twilight pissant." You know, at the same time, that there's part of Rudy who wishes he, too, was a "weekend corporation peon." On album closer "On Fulfillment", the narrator commiserates with a fellow lawyer at the wedding of a mutual friend. Equal to their sense of, "What could have been?" is a hilarious recognition of their own economic privilege." "Jet-setting off to Venice or at the high-society gala," Choi sings, "It seems they always waste these things on us mere middle-aged attorneys."

My favorite songs on Ten Modern American Work Songs, or at least the ones that best showcase Choi as not just a songwriter or lyricist but scene-builder, are those that take place in seemingly mundane locations. Sure, you might find touching and relatable, lines about the protagonist's dad teaching him how to drywall and lay tile, and him nevertheless abandoning a house in Columbus for the least bang for his buck in NYC. But a song like "New York Speaks Softly at Night", with its layered organ and keys, provides even more gut punches, the narrator taking the subway, looking at people around himself and perceiving their lives, even a "wet orange cat in the pouring rain." "It looked at me like I could be its midnight savior / Hard luck Garfield got the Mondays yet again," Choi sings, the most MJ Lenderman line on a non-MJ Lenderman record this year. “Quasi-Nichomachean Ethics (Drunk Uncle Advice)” sees someone giving advice to his 21-year-old nephew, a mix of words earnest, empathetic, pragmatic, and snarky. "Don't underestimate the tendency of humans to keep on disappointing you at every waking opportunity," Choi sings. If at first, it sounds harsh, the more you listen to it, you wish someone would have told you the same thing when you were young. And "Kalahari" takes place at a waterpark in Sandusky, OH, the narrator beholden to the exact speed of the lazy river, the perfect place for existential pondering. "Forget vacationing down in Mexico, where all the ex-pats hate the tourists like you," Choi sings, peeling back layers of American obnoxiousness while expressing a genuine love for a "not real authentic" park.

As if the density of Ten Modern American Work Songs, the album, wasn't enough, St. Lenox has also released videos for all of the album's singles, titled differently than the songs themselves. He and his husband Elon star in each of them, but as with the album, he refers to the characters in the video as distinct from himself. In the video for "Rudy", titled "How to Get a Table at Tatiana", the main character's unable to get a reservation at the acclaimed NYC Afro-Caribbean restaurant of the same name, so he works on his own cooking skills instead. In the video for “Quasi-Nichomachean Ethics (Drunk Uncle Advice)", titled “Introduction to Modern Philosophy”, the narrator tells us about the death of a mentor of his before he has to give his nephew advice, Choi inverting the plot of the song. The video for "Your Local Neighborhood Bar", titled "Open Mic: The Egalitarian Institution", is the protagonist's tribute to past post-work performances, where everyone was on the same playing field. The video for "Lust for Life", titled, "What Do We Do with the Roses in our Garden", sees the protagonist and his husband weighing their new life in suburbia, having recently purchased a home, decorating it with their items and taking care of what existed there before them. The one first person exception is the video for "Courtesan"; entitled "The JD Vance Couch", it's the true story of how the couch that Choi and his husband are sitting on in the video, as they wave at their infant daughter, was given to him by a law school classmate who was roommates with the Republican nominee for Vice President. Potential jokes aside, in the video, Choi laments Vance's idea that leaders must have direct stakes in the future (their own children), considering that Vance may have been in an ethics class, taught by Choi himself, at The Ohio State University.

Though it may be challenging for the average listener to connect all the dots, thankfully, Choi was willing to answer some questions over email about the world of Ten Modern American Work Songs. Below, read his responses, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: In your track-by-track breakdown of the album, you refer to the song's narrators as "the protagonist," who often lead a life similar to yours. How autobiographical is the album?

Andrew Choi: Fairly autobiographical, but from time to time, songs evolve on their own. Sometimes, the stories of people that I know make their way in, or sometimes, I'll change a few details for the sake of anonymity. "Rudy", for instance, isn't exactly my story. There are some details of my life that are in there--I did forget my mom's birthday one year, and I felt awful about it. But I don't have a friend in Missouri named Rudy. (I do have a friend named Rudy, but the song isn't about him, it's just that the name works for the song). In "Rudy", the protagonist has mixed feelings of contempt and envy for an acquaintance who has prioritized things in life somewhat differently, and I think that is definitely something I can identify with.

In "On Fulfillment", it's based initially on a real event, of law school classmates meeting up many years later at the wedding of another classmate, and some of the song is about me, but some of it is stories I hear from other people. Most of the rest of the record is more completely autobiographical, but I'm sure there's some artistic license taken throughout.

I refer to the song's narrators as "the protagonist" partly as a defense mechanism, because a lot of American listeners will see me as an Asian-American musician and have an instinct to view this as music about "other" people. But these are stories about work life that I think of as more broadly applying to young Gen-X and elder Millennials, about education and social mobility, that I know my friends talk about a lot. People have a very strong tendency to identify with people who look like them, and it affects their ability to interpret what they're seeing or hearing, whose side they take in an argument, or how they relate to one another. So I provide that as, perhaps, guidance or emphasis on the way to approach the record as a listener--that they see the narrator as the protagonist, because in America, you have to kind of correct or guide those tendencies up front. As someone who gets "othered" constantly in the music industry, in person and in print, its a constant struggle to adjust that tendency and have especially white Americans think, "I can identify with him."

SILY: At times, it seems like the songs on this album have a difference in tone between their sound and subject, or even between themselves and their respective music videos. Was achieving a certain level of contrast important to you?

AC: Regarding the music videos, I think if you spell out what the subject matters of the song and the videos are, you'll find that they talk about the same things, though I admit that processing the music videos takes some time to work through, because I have multiple narratives happening simultaneously. Perhaps the video will provide a different take on an idea from the song, but even, then it is advancing the subject matter in a way that makes the pairing meaningful.

For instance, in "Rudy", the protagonist is living a more ambitious life and has regrets over whether he should be doing some of the more domestic things that his friend is doing. In the music video, the protagonist has moved out of the city and now lives in New Jersey, where he complains about not being able to do some of the high social status things he could have done if he still lived in the city. These are different but related perspectives on ambition and social status or FOMO; the protagonists have FOMO but desire (almost) the exact opposite of what the other does. And looking at the issue from multiple perspectives is meaningful.

In "Quasi-Nichomachean Ethics" the protagonist is giving advice to his nephew, much of which is somewhat half-assed and not very philosophical. The protagonist in the video is the same protagonist, but talks in a more philosophical way about advice itself, reflecting on the philosophical tradition of passing along wisdom, and (perhaps) arguing about how relevant the practice of philosophy is to life in general. The subject matter of the music and video are pretty complementary, because they both talk about advice but from different perspectives. And while I'm inclined to think the song gives less important advice because it's less "philosophical," I also think its the advice I would tend to give a young person, because it's very practical.

I don't think contrast is important in and of itself. Between the music and subject matter of the songs, I use the music mainly to set the emotional perspective of the protagonist, as context for interpreting what's happening in the lyrics. If the music seems contradictory, it may reflect a more nuanced attitude of the protagonist. I could have written "Courtesan" with music that provided a more sneering and cynical take on law school, but I didn't because I want the listener to look at it from the protagonist's eyes. It should sound more hopeful, because that is how the protagonist feels. Despite future uncertainty, he's gained social mobility and his experience is a mixture of hope, excitement and a bit of fear. I would say in general, if the music sounds unexpected, it's providing a direct emotional cue to interpreting how the protagonist views the subject matter, maybe 100% of the time, in my songs.

SILY: Why did you decide to (technically) break the 10-song pattern of your albums with a prologue track 0?

AC: The track 0 was originally going to be a longer song, but the first pass, I think, presented the idea completely on its own and, I think, set the stage for the record, so I didn't need to write a full 3 passes. Sure, in some sense, it's a song. But for me, the songs that I put down will generally have a more complete narrative structure. Track 0 doesn't (in my opinion) have that. It more sets the tone for ingesting the rest of the record, because it prompts the listener to think generally about the value of work. If anything, it's like that ditty before Joan Osborne's "One of Us": not a full song in and of itself, but it provides an emotional context for the full song, whereas my ditty provides as a context for the record as a whole. (Also for modern practical purposes, I would want to present "Courtesan" on its own without including "Eulogy", so combining them into a single track wouldn't work out very well.)

SILY: I love how "Kalahari" toys with ideas of authenticity when it comes to tourism, often in a tongue-in-cheek way. As someone who has spent years in both the Midwest and the East Coast, do you ever feel uniquely positioned to comment on how we perceive parts of the country different from ours, even if you're still poking fun at yourself when commenting?

AC: I think, maybe, it makes me twice as frustrated to see things get lost in translation both directions? A few months ago, I visited this restaurant in my home town in Iowa, which is where I went with friends for our high school senior prom. It was known in high school as the best restaurant in town, and served elegant French food, including escargot, which we tried for the first time as young naïve high schoolers. Many years later, the restaurant had reverted to something like a mixture of a TGIFridays and a pan-European cafeteria, which was a very jarring, memory-destroying experience. I actually looked the restaurant up the other day, and saw that many years before I had even gone there in high school, it was written up in the New York Times as a restaurant with a hopeful chef trying to bring old school French cuisine (like you might find in New York City) to the Midwest. It's such a depressing story, and yet, I was able to get dinner there for myself, my husband, and my parents all for less than $100. Anyway, I don't think you're going to get that perspective without living in the Midwest and living on the coast for some time, but it puts you in a funk just having that perspective. So, I guess the answer is, "Yes?"

SILY: Do you often find places like waterparks--that can be rife with loads of loud people and music--conducive to self-reflection?

AC: It depends what you're looking at. Have you ever been to the lazy river? "Kalahari" was intended to connect to aspects of the lazy river. The electronica element is the bubbles floating up to the surface, and the slow metronome tempo, the constant speed of the lazy river. It's where all the parents and depressed adults go to avoid the high energy of the rides. In the lyrics, I situated the protagonist there at the beginning (and end) of the song. You're sitting in the lazy river, with the water pushing you along in a dream state, and you watch people from every stage of human life pass by you by. It's very existential. That's not even me being artistic or especially insightful, that's just good waterpark design.

SILY: "New York Speaks Softly At Night" describes someone recalling the various people and things they saw while riding the subway. As a writer, do you find shared spaces, like public transportation or airports, inspirational?

AC: I think shared public spaces are places where you are forced to be in acquaintance with people and stories that you might not otherwise choose yourself. I'm not saying that public transportation doesn't have predictable patterns, but I think, these days, it's a nice counterpoint to social media, where people either manicure their interactions or have their interactions manicured by the algorithm to the point that they lose perspective. But in this song, I was just pointing out maybe an unexpected positive aspect of working late at night, is that it puts you in touch with different characters and stories you might not expect.

SILY: Is your violin on "Quasi-Nichomachean Ethics (Drunk Uncle Advice)" meant to sound overbearing, or at least in-your-face, like a reflection of the narrator giving advice?

AC: It is a reflection of the narrator, in the sense of being a kind of drunken happy revelry? I think it may sound overbearing, but I think in modern times, that's partly because we interpret stringed instruments as passive, chord-blocking orchestral filler. If you're a concert violinist, you will know that the violin in particular is one of the instruments that best mimics the human voice. It's a soloist instrument and deserves to be utilized in solos in the way that rock bands use the guitar, only it does a better job of mimicking the human voice than the guitar for a variety of physical and technical reasons. It's heavily under-utilized, because pop music writers keep relegating it to chord filler or mood-setting background music. I think, in many cases, it's not even mic'd in such a way that captures its full expressive range. And I don't say this as someone who was merely "classically trained." I won national and international competitions for the violin as a soloist, back in the day. Pop and rock musicians don't understand the virtuosic potential of stringed instruments. At all.

SILY: Are you at all involved in any music industry labor efforts like United Musicians and Allied Workers?

AC: I'm not involved with the UMAW, though I'm broadly friendly to what I see as many of their goals. There are unions like the American Federation of Musicians whose goals I also broadly support.

What I do spend a fair bit of my free time on is trying to remedy what I see as socioeconomic inequality in the music industry. Many independent musicians don't have a grasp of the financial and institutional barriers to success as indie musicians, and they don't understand the extent to which "successful" indie bands are financed by large amounts of family money. My musician friends who are, for the most part, middle-class at best, simply don't have that kind of money, and if we were ever to put the screws to every band that gets a writeup or review in any major outlet and see how things were financed, you would end up with a population that looks a lot more like Princeton University or NYU Law School. Musicians who have less means need to be educated on that, so that they can plan accordingly. And look, I definitely support musicians trying to do things like increase streaming royalty rates (which the UMAW champions). But a musician friend that has a stellar but overlooked record is not going to get much from doubling the streaming royalties on his 500 streams last year. He would have gotten more from understanding ahead of time how to best allocate his limited savings on his record release, given inequalities in the system.

SILY: Are you planning on performing these songs live?

AC: If I can find a place that works for me. We moved to New Jersey somewhat recently, and its hard to book a show after you've moved, because nobody knows who you are, and who would you even invite? I have a kid now, too, so do I even have the time for that? I go to open-mic fairly regularly. In fact, I workshopped most of the songs on this record at an open-mic in Hoboken called Finnegan's Pub, and an open-mic in Cliffside Park, called Brass Rail Pub 2. I think music listeners should go to things like open mic more often. If rumors are correct, people actually used to do that more often in, like, the 1960s. You get to see the writing process up close and personal and see how a song develops over time. I have friends in comedy that invite me out to perform, so I'm sure I'll hit up some variety shows in the future.

SILY: Is there anything you've been listening to, watching, or reading lately that's caught your attention?

AC: I occasionally participate in Paul F. Tompkins' Varietopia, and if it comes to your town, I suggest you visit. It's just a really interesting mix of music and comedy--you never know who is going to perform, which is really the best way to ingest music and comedy. I ran into a comedian there, Hannah Pilkes, who was just so hilarious and intense with her characters, and I'm excited to see more.

I ran into a comedian, Dave Hill, through Cabinet of Wonders, put on by Wesley Stace, a few years ago, and then later at a radio show Come To Papa, put on by Tom Papa, and he has such a new sense of humor, and is a genuine guy himself. I am trying to get out of the house and catch his show "Caveman in a Spaceship" in the near future.

Joe Peppercorn (who is featured in the song "Your Local Neighborhood Bar") from Columbus has been putting out some really interesting records. Not a lot of people are that skilled at both songwriting and production/orchestration. He's a complete package in that sense, which you'll get a sense of by listening to his latest, Darkening Stars.

Mary Lynn, also out of Columbus, released a record a few years ago, Where I Wanna Be, which I was just very impressed by. It's a peak example of a record that I thought deserved much more exposure, but did not receive it, because of those financial/institutional barriers I mentioned.

Niall Connolly's last two records, The Patience of Trees and Dream Your Way Out of This One, are great. He has been organizing a great singer-songwriter community in NYC called Big City Folk for a long time and has been instrumental in keeping a sense of community alive amongst songwriters in the city.

I happened to hear a record last year, Ryan Wong's The New Country Sounds of Ryan Wong, which I found to be striking and fresh. He's just someone really mixing up country music in a way that doesn't feel forced or overthought.

Micah Schnabel has such a big body of work, I wouldn't know where one would start, but I found his latest, The Clown Watches The Clock, to be thought-provoking and topical, in a meaningful way.

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter Additional Tags: Morning After, Goodbyes, Sharing a Shower, reluctant goodbyes Series: Part 2 of The Marauders Pub Soho Summary:

The morning after a night of passion Lily has to leave a soundly sleeping James, but she doesn't want to.

Lily lay staring at the skylight, and watched the patch of sky turn from black to indigo. She just gazed without moving, hardly even blinking as it gradually grew lighter and lighter. She had not been able to find any rest for more than a few brief snatches, as tired as she was. Her whole body zinged with electricity, her brain abuzz with everything that had happened last night and had continued to happen throughout the night. She glanced over towards the body sleeping soundly beside her, the sheets pooled around his waist showing his toned back. He had acquired some new tattoos in the six years since she had last seen him. When she’d remarked on the delicately detailed Lily that was now inked on his right side sweeping across his ribs, he had quipped back that it marked the spot where she had stuck her knife in him when she’d left him to pursue her career. That remark had stung more than she wanted to admit, even though she did deserve it. 

She had told him last night she never wanted to leave his side again, and she had meant it. Especially at that moment, standing in the bar he basically built, surrounded by the memories of their childhood. Engulfed by the overwhelming scent of James himself. At that moment it had been so easy to say yes to all of his questions, say yes to coming here to his place instead of going back to her hotel as she had planned. She wished she could stay in this moment, with the old day finished and the new not yet begun. In this bed with this man forever. But all too soon she would have to leave. She needed to get on a plane in a few hours. If she didn’t, then any dream she had to live in London permanently would be gone.

She glanced around James's attic room trying to see if he even had a clock. She was amazed that he still lived like this. There was a rail for his clothes and a bed so low it was almost like the mattress was on the floor. That was it. She hoped he didn’t live like this all the time, but she suspected his life and energy was spent at the bar.

It had looked so beautiful, the large dark polished oak panels and the brass rail, the small stage with the piano sitting proudly. And all the pictures on the walls of their schooldays. It had always been his dream to run a bar, and the four Marauders had made it a successful reality, but she knew who had been driving it from day one, and she was  incredibly proud of him for that.

She reached for her clutch bag and fumbled in it for her phone. It did not light up when she tapped the screen. Her battery must have died. 

Fuck.

She glanced over at James, still sleeping soundly, and contemplated waking him, but she knew he was exhausted. She had wiped him out, she thought to herself, suppressing a giggle, it had been a wonderful night. He had not forgotten any of the things he used to do to make her whole body hum, and he had learned a few new things too she had discovered. His strength and stamina had greatly increased. Not that she had expected him to hold himself chaste for her, but she still had a pang of jealousy at the thought that other women had touched him, had been with her James. Had they asked about his tattoo? She always thought of him as hers, even though she hadn’t exactly expected to ever come back to him that day she had left. Any time before now when she had considered it she talked herself out of it because she was convinced he would be with someone else.

She rolled over onto her back again, and looked up at the skylight. 

What time was it?

She’d hoped she wouldn't have to do this but she slid off the edge of the bed and took James’s phone out of the pocket of his jeans and opened it, shaking her head at the stubborn distrust for technology that meant he still used an old flip phone. Although at the moment Lily was grateful because she didn’t have to worry about unlocking it.

She tapped in the digits for her assistant's number as she crept into his ensuite, slipping on the dressing gown that was on a hook behind the door.

The phone rang just once before she heard an unsure “Hello?”

“Hey, Jess it’s me…”

“Lily!” came the scream, causing her to jump and nearly drop the phone. “Where the fucking hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all night. Your meeting has been moved up, you need to get to the airport right now!”

“What? Oh, fuck!” Lily took a breath and closed her eyes as her assistant kept rambling over the phone, talking so fast Lily could hardly understand them. “Jess, Jess, Jessie!” She tried to speak urgently and sharply without making too much noise. “I need you to bring me my bag and my suit, the green one. Put an extra pair of underwear in my bag.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, but your overnight bag won’t be enough, I've had to pack your suitcase, you’ll be staying for a week. They’ve sent a whole itinerary, but when we left Hong Kong I didn’t think to pack any of your formal wear. I’ve arranged for the concierge to book a fitting for after your first meeting, once you’ve checked in. Where are you anyway? I need to let Terrence know where we need to come and get you.” 

Lily went to answer then realised she had no actual idea of the address. It wasn’t far from the bar, she didn’t think. But she had been interested in other things besides looking out the car window to notice what neighbourhood they were in. Lily looked up as the door to the bathroom swung open gently, revealing a conscious James leaning against the frame wearing only his battered looking jeans, his tousled hair framing his tired-looking face and his glasses perching on the end of his nose, as if they were mere moments from falling off.

She let the phone fall from her ear slightly as he continued to stare at her, a wry smile reaching only the edge of his lips. 

“Something tells me you aren’t staying for breakfast.” His tone was light but she heard the resignation behind it. As she looked over at her childhood sweetheart, an idea struck her.

“Jess? You still there? Pick me up outside the Marauders’ Pub in Soho. Yeah? And Jess? I'm gonna need another plane ticket.”

“Well, okay boss but they are sending you a priv…..” Lily did not hear the last of her assistant’s words as she closed the flip phone and tossed it back to him.

“I can't believe you still use that antique.” He caught it deftly in his left hand and dropped it into his back pocket.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you dick around with my life again,” he replied, barely even trying to mask the disappointment.

“As much as I'd love to have this argument again, I really need you to pack yourself a bag. Do you have a good suit that fits you?”

He shook his head and blinked at her as she brushed past him to his rail of clothes and started looking through them. He still had some nice attire here, a lot of it she remembered from their life before.

“Lily, wait,” he called after her but she took no notice. She had no time. Already, in her head, she was mapping out what she needed to do. A whole week with these people. The one day originally planned would have been torture, but this... If she had back up maybe she could make it work.  “Stop.” He placed a hand on hers as it rested on the next coathanger. She looked up into his gorgeous eyes as they shone with all the colours as his emotions played out across his face. He was always so expressive. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’re your own boss, you could take the time off. It’s not like you’re the only one in charge. What about Sirius? Or Remus? Or even Pete?” She paused, “Is Pete doing okay? I thought he wanted to go in a, erm, different direction but I saw his name up there with the rest of you?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Pete is a silent partner, he helps out when he can but his wife made him join their family business, he helps by keeping them away.” His hand dropped to his side. “Lily I can’t afford to just drop everything, everybody else has other responsibilities, I’m the only one left to run it and I won't let it fail. My staff depends on me.”

“James, this is me telling you I don’t want to leave you again. I don’t want to go on this trip without you by my side, I could use someone in my corner. I could also use a devilishly handsome, charming, charismatic–” he raised an eyebrow at her seductive tone but didn’t stop her putting her hands on his chest, tracing the antlers that spread across them. 

 “My tattoos aren’t very corporate,” he murmured, his voice sounding deep and throaty. she shrugged in reply,

“You’d be surprised what people hide under their suits these days.” She told him with a twinkle, sobering when his lips thinned. “Please James. I need you.” She hadn’t realised how true those words were until she had spoken them to the universe.

“I’m sorry Lily, but my staff need me more. They rely on me.”

“So you’ve never taken a day off? Never had to call in sick?” Before he could answer her questions an idea struck her. “What if I pay your staff for the week? How much would that be?” He stood for a moment apparently stunned then started laughing and stepped away from her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She tried not to look upset at his reaction to her suggestion. She stood watching him and waited for his mirth to subside.

“Oh, you are actually serious? You want to pay me so I will spend time with you?” He shook his head as his mirth still rippled through him. “This isn’t Pretty Woman and I’m not some, some...rentboy you picked up off the street.” 

Now he sounded angry. James’ phone started buzzing in his back pocket. She had not thought that offering to pay his staff would equate  to her hiring him as an escort service. Her brain hadn’t gone that way at all. She let him answer his call, as she rushed back to the bathroom for a much needed shower and tried to clear her head.

James may have skimped on bedroom furniture but he hadn’t skimped on his wet room. The shower was a walk-in style and big enough for four people, the naturally textured tiles on her feet were warm as she walked in, the large slabs of highly polished sand-coloured stone on the walls were so neatly fitted she couldn’t even see the joins. 

Turning on the shower filled the room with hot steam and the reassuring splats of water droplets peppering the tiles. Stepping into it, she gasped at the pressure. It was like standing in a tropical rainstorm. She just stood there unmoving, letting the water rush over her enjoying the sensation as it beat down on her head.

“That was your PA on the phone. I gave them this address so you can leave from here.” James said as he stepped into the bathroom like they did this kind of thing all the time. “Thought you might want to have some fresh clothes to wear.”

“You really won’t come?” She asked, trying one last time. She forced herself to keep her eyes forward when she realised he was joining her by the sound of his jeans hitting the tiled floor. 

Despite their recent intimacy, or perhaps because of it, being this close to his naked body turned her core white-hot. She tried very hard not to react as she felt his naked skin brush up against hers.  His arm reached past and grabbed an unlabelled metal bottle from the small alcove. Then his fingers were in her hair and her nostrils were filled with the scent of an English summer garden.

“Is it okay that I join you in here? Thought it would save some time.”

“Yes, okay, it’s absolutely fine,” she tried to keep her voice as neutral as his but even she could hear the breathiness.  

“I told your assistant I can’t, it’s not my scene at all,” he told her conversationally, as if he wasn’t standing butt naked behind her in the shower. He was trying to calm her down, trying to talk about what needed to be talked about. The fact they were taking a shower together didn’t seem to phase him at all. Determinedly, she tried to follow his lead.

“This is not me running away from you. I need you to understand that.” She hummed in pleasure as his fingers massaged deeper into her hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you, offering to pay.” 

 “I’m still not sure if I find it more funny or offensive,” he began. “I can’t say I’m not tempted to run away with you, but you know as well as I do how much of a distraction I would be. You need to be at your best. I will be fine, I’ll just have to trust you’ll come back. That you're not making me the poor jilted lover once more.” He told her. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, wanted to say all the things that she had agonised about saying as she lay awake beside him in his bed, but no words could adequately explain how she was feeling. So she turned and reached for him, pushing her fingers up across his stubble studded cheeks into his hair and kissing him soundly. Breaking the kiss he tilted her head back as his lips dragged kisses across her throat. She didn’t need to ask where his mind was right now, she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach. All too soon her brain caught up with her and soundly put on the brakes. “Not that I don’t enjoy where this is going, but we need to stop.” She took a few quick breaths as his hands continued to soap her breasts. “I don’t have the time and I’m a little tender.”

“You were the one who started things, Evans. I was just helping you wash,” he said innocently, amusement dancing in his eyes. But he did take his hands off her body and even though she had asked him to, she mourned the loss of contact. “In all honesty, I don’t think I have it in me right now to perform at my best anyway.” 

“Let’s just put this on pause for now then shall we?” She told him, giving him a gentle kiss, hoping he understood how much he continued to mean to her. Lily dipped her head to rinse the bubbles out of her hair. It felt like silk as she combed her fingers through it.

“What is that shampoo? It’s amazing!”

“It’s a prototype. Remus’ company makes it, the only thing that’s come close to making my hair behave. He’s made it his personal mission to tame it. He gives me a new formula just about every week.” He pointed to the small bathroom cabinet above the sink. “The conditioner’s in there, it's one you have to leave in. I put towels on the hook.” She stepped aside once she was rinsed, letting him have the full force of the shower. 

“Does he always make it smell like flowers?”

“Yup.” She expected him to elaborate but when he didn’t she just let it go and stepped out of the shower. She found the small spray bottle in the cabinet simply labelled conditioner and scrunched some into her hair as she watched James wash his. The bubbles slid down his frame in ways that made her wish she could just step back in there with him.

Lily wished she could continue to stare at him but her logical brain was kicking in to tell her all that she still had to do. Moving back to the bedroom, she twisted her hair up out of the way while she looked for anywhere he would store things. There wasn’t even a cupboard in the bedroom so she padded her way through to the living space. She barely remembered it from the night before, and she was stunned at how minimally he lived.

It was a beautiful apartment, the exposed red brick looked amazing with the warm honey-coloured wooden floor. The living space was a good size for London, the kitchen looked brand new with a wooden worktop that matched the floor and clean white cupboards. She spotted the coffee machine, and hunted in the cupboards to see if he had any beans, suppressing her irritation when every one was empty. 

The more she looked around his place, the less it felt like he lived here at all. There was a giant modular brown leather sofa taking up the majority of space in the living area, a coffee table that looked like it was made out of granite, and a giant tv on the wall. 

“What is this place to you James Potter?” She mused as she looked around. She was tempted to start rummaging in drawers (if there were any) but it felt like possibly a step too far for now. 

The intercom buzzed impatiently making her jump guiltily and nearly drop her towel. As she stared at the white box on the wall and wondered how to operate it James came striding out of the bedroom holding a hand towel around his waist, hair still dripping. He lifted the receiver then buzzed to let the person come up. “It’s your assistant.” He explained before vanishing back to the bedroom.

Lily stood looking through the peephole until she saw her assistant's blonde head appear from the stairs.

She opened the door and ushered them in quickly. Taking the bag from them awkwardly with one hand.

Jessie looked around and hummed appreciatively. “This is nice, you could do a lot with this place. When are they moving in?”

“I don’t know,” Lily replied quietly. “I’m going to go change. Can you play nice with James, please? It would be great if you two get on.”

“Well I’ll behave if he will,” Jessie swept an invisible strand of hair out their face before relenting to Lily’s reproachful look. “Alright, alright. When we spoke on the phone they were pleasant so I can be too.” 

“Great, I’ll be super quick,” as she made her way back into the bedroom James stepped out wearing that same pair of jeans he seemed incredibly fond of and one of his many black Marauders Pub t-shirts. He put out a hand to stop her as she tried to slip past him.

“I’m going to get out of your hair,” he said quietly. She could tell by the tone he didn’t want to be here when she left, didn’t want to be the one left waving by the door. She understood that in an instant, saw it in his sad eyes, and the hesitant touch he placed on her arm. 

“Okay.” With a glance at her assistant she walked him back into the bedroom. “This was not how I wanted this to go,” she said, keeping her voice down once she knew they were alone.

“Saying goodbye brings back bad memories,” he told her shuffling his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I want to believe you're coming back this time.”

“Of course I’m coming back. I’ll call you, every day. But could you do something for me?” She asked, reaching to snake her arms around his neck.

“Can you get yourself a new phone so we can video chat?”

“Yes, Evans I think I can manage that,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her goodbye for the last time. 

[monstersandmaw]

Wow, somehow it's already the second Friday in Mermay! How did that happen? I hope you're all keeping safe and well, and that our little trips to the beach for Mermay are bringing a little fresh air if you're unable to go out and enjoy it. Don't forget that there's the Discord server too, which should join you up automatically if you have your Discord linked to Patreon. No obligation to take part if you don't want to, but it's there nonetheless, even if you're not intending to stay a patron after Mermay is over.

Now it's time to meet Mottle, to whom you were briefly introduced earlier in the week. Next up is a female kelpie with a male reader, and she's not your average shy and retiring forest spirit...

In this one we have a gender neutral reader, but there is penetrative sex, though anatomy is left vague as usual. The reader has had a rough breakup in the relatively recent past, and is struggling with the aftermath of being treated badly, although no details are mentioned. Eli, our tiefling best friend, wants to use the power of the Starfall Coven to bring some good into your life, but you're a little reserved about the idea to begin with...

I'm inluding a bit more in the content because someone asked me to (so that they know what kind of nsfw it contains), so I hope that's ok with everyone. I usually put anything I feel needs a warning in there, but they asked for a little more detail.

Content: fluff, magic, talk of love potions, alcohol (not drunk sex though), nsfw, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, tentacles, and some tender aftercare Wordcount: 5451

“What you need, sweetheart, is a fucking love potion,” Eli grinned, drunk as anything and listing perilously to one side. The tiefling meant well, you knew that, but seriously? A fucking love potion?

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in the creaky pub chair. The Inglenook Inn was about as traditional a pub as it was possible to get, with dark, scuffed, slightly sticky wooden flooring, a few old horse and centaur brasses nailed to the wall, heavy beams, and of course, the eponymous inglenook fireplace, large enough to hatch a dragon.

“I don’t need a love potion. I’m not going to trick someone into wanting to go out with me. That’s not the point.”

“I didn’t say what kind of love potion,” the tiefling said, leering playfully across the table at you. “There’s more than the nasty old ‘date rape’ ones, you know? No one uses those anyway now - no one will brew them either. Well, maybe only douche bags.”

“Only douche bags say ‘douche bags’,” you grunted, but Eli just laughed and lounged back in his chair, sharp chin raised as he closed his eyes and chuckled softly.

There was more than one set of eyes on him that night, you noticed, but then again, there always was. His skin was colourlessly white, with snaking black tattoos up his neck and just sneaking up onto his striking face over his jaw, with blood red eyes, and massive ivory horns like a ram’s that curved through his long, dead-straight, white hair. He was also one of the most powerful witches in the Starfall Coven, so you supposed he probably knew what he was talking about when it came to the love potion thing. It did still just felt like a cop-out to you though.

As if he’d read your mind, he turned serious and said, “Let me help you. Seriously, I think I know something that will help nudge things along. It’s not fake, it just… expedites circumstances.”

“Eli, I…”

“Think about it,” he said, backing off. “I won’t push you, and I won’t do it without your permission, but I know what I’m doing. It’s how I got Martha and her beau together after all…”

“You’re a meddling little busybody,” you said without any sting.

“You love me,” he smiled and you nodded.

“Gods help me, but I do.” He had been your best friend for almost as long as you could remember and there was almost nothing you wouldn’t do for each other. That, apparently, included getting each other steaming drunk on a Friday night.

“Another?” he asked, standing and somehow managing not to look the least bit unsteady. His white cervine legs and long, feline tail kept him balanced all the way to the bar, and he ordered you both another round, returning without spilling a drop.

It was a fortnight before he brought up your love life again.

The pair of you had met up after you’d finished work, but instead of heading to the pub, you went for a walk along the harbour wall since it was such a beautiful evening. Fishing boats bobbed and rocked in the late spring breezes, and the salt air was stronger here, more potent and somehow even fresher.  It blew the cobwebs away almost instantly, and you paused with Eli at the harbour railings, leaning your forearms on the metal and sighing.

That familiar, aching loneliness threatened to choke you and you bowed your head.

Eli, perceptive as ever, rested an elegant, tattooed hand on your back and rubbed circles between your shoulder blades. Down below in the water, a pair of selkies coiled around each other, splashing and yipping, and you turned away. “I don’t want to be some bitter old arsehole about this, Eli,” you said. “I just…”

“You went through one of the roughest breakups I’ve ever heard of,” he said gently. “The way you were treated…” His solidly red eyes flared and glowed as his own power rumbled inside him and he let sparks dance along the fingertips of his free hand. “Seriously, it’s alright to feel so rubbish still. I just wish I could help.”

Sparks continued to fizzle along his fingers for a while and you stared at them, thinking.

“Eli…?”

“Mmm?”

“You know, I think… I think I’d like to try that love -” You didn’t get to finish your sentence because the sea frothed and bubbled beneath the harbour wall, and your joint attention was caught as another of the merfolk surfaced.

Read the whole thing right now, and have access to a story every Friday during Mermay 2020, as well as everything that’s gone up on Patreon before, and join our Discord server!

[teamdoubleoh]

What fits in Men’s Pockets

Or five times Q had exactly what they needed  

Q-branch always has in stock what an agent may need - Q is not so different.

wordcount: 3477

Q branch had been all but deserted when James returned from Bangkok that night, leaving him and Q alone at Q’s desk. Bond had just returned lost some equipment and Q had made him sign some document, confirming the loss. Apparently that lost gun had been one gun too many.  

"Do you have a pen?" He asked, looking the desk over. There was Q's laptop, the desk lamp, the mug of earl grey that had been cooling for ages now and the papers themselves, but nothing else. Without looking up Q pulled a single pencil from his pocket. "There you go."

"Dear Quartermaster, you astound me! Who would have thought you even knew what a pen is. One could think you had gone full digital by now."

"Please Bond, leave the banter for times when I'm haven't been working for two days straight. Everyone knows that you don't have to fix what isn't broken. Pencils are an essential, I will admit."  

"What are you doing here anyways. Everyone else is at home with their families."

"...I  wonder why. Usually we have a skeleton crew over night...."

"Q. It’s Christmas."

"Huh. Merry Christmas Bond."

“Merry Christmas. You know what could be your gift to me?”

“You’re not getting the Aston.”

"Thats not what I meant. I have a first name, you could use it sometime. If you stop calling my Bond, I'll take you out for dinner."

“Was that supposed to be a compelling argument?”

***

Bond Eve and Q were on a mission.

It sounded like the start of a terrible joke, but was really just a rather annoying affair.

Bond was supposed to seduce someone who knew something, and he had, spectacular so. Now the woman was head over heels for him.

"I told her I wanted to break up but she woudn't listen!"

"Honestly, I was wondering why that as never happened before."

"Not helping Moneypenny."

"Just act like you’re cheating on her. That should do a great deal." murmured Q from behind his laptop. He was working on something and only here in the first place because they had needed a tech expert at the location. Eve was only here to his protection.

"Great input Q, how do I convince a woman I have know for two days that I'm cheating on her? We aren't even in a relationship!"

"... You know you could just kiss Eve in front of her of her or wear a shirt with a lipsticks stain. That should work beautifully."  

"Well, I'm not kissing you." Eve stated, voice laced with disgust.

"What, too old for you?" Bond lifted an eyebrow.

"Too male." retorted Eve.

"You know what Moneypenny? That explains so much--."

"You should be trying to find a lipstick right now 007."

"Oh right yes. Eve, may I borrow your spare lipstick? I seem to have lost mine."

"Why would I carry spare lipsticks around James."

"I don't know. Why shouldn't you."

Q looked up from his laptop. "What seems to be the problem?"

"James thinks all women carry around lipsticks all the time."

"Well. Dont you?" Q asked adjusting his glasses with his spare hand.

"Of course not. Assuming that I do that is mysogynistic Q."

"Why would that be mysogenistic? Don't people carry around stuff like that all the time? You know lipsticks, breath mints, that sort of thing?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "Do you happen to have a breath mint for me then?"

Q hesitated. "...No."

"There you go."

"But I do have a peppermint gum. And a lipstick, if you still need it." He fumbled around his parka and pulled out a small black and gold container. A lipstick, Eve realised. James eyed him with interest.

"Now I want to know why you have a lipstick. Because thats a good one. Mac isn't exactly cheap and that colour isn't for everyone."

Q sighed and handed the Lipstick to him. "Bond, please refrain from commenting my appearance. I know I look young for my age, you've told me before."

"Only when you stop calling me Bond. I have a first name you know."

"I know. I read your file, remember?"

Eve sighed and pinched thuebridge of her nose. “Fellas, if you'd be so kind. We need to ruin James’ shirt before his girlfriend finds him."

***

Q was pissed. His brother had come back from the dead.

Bond hadn't even know the Quartermaster had family, let alone a brother who knew how to fake his death and had to use his knowledge.

Yet here they were, at 2am I a dingy back alley in inner London.

The street sign read Bakerstreet and the brass lettering on the front for of the building they were about to break into informed pedestrians that this was number 221B.

Bond wasn't ignorant. They had been in Q branch, when a notification had popped up on one of the monitors. Q had grabbed his parka and James’ arm and off they were. On they way the Quartermaster had explained.

His brother had come back from the dead, had neglected to inform Q of his continued existence - something he apparently should have done ages ago - and now Bond was standing next to a furiously calm Quartermaster in the back alley of a house Q apparently knew well enough. There was only one way this night could develop.

The Quartermaster was currently looking up at the darkened windows of the first floor, obviously trying to decide between two, as his eyes flickered back and forth between them. "Alright. Bond, give me a hand will you?" he gestured up at the fire escape that was tugged away to the left side, ladder secured at the corner of the small iron balcony.

"If I'm helping ou break into your dead brothers flat you should at least start calling me James first."

"James, a hand please."

"What do you want me to do?"

"You need to lift me up so I can reach the ladder." Q pushed his glasses up his nose. If he was lucky the darkness would hide his blush. "Before you say anything, I am aware you could jump high enough to reach the ladder. Sadly that would be extremely noisy, so if you'd be so kind--"

James folded his hands together and Q put his left foot in them. "On the count of three I'm going to push myself up and you're going to throw me as hard as you can. I'll let the ladder down from above."

James nodded in confirmation. If breaking and entering was what it took to get Q to stop calling him Bond he would take it. He started to count. "One... two... three." he hoisted Q up, effectively pushing Q to the height of the balcony, where he grabbed onto the steel bars of the railing.

Q pulled himself up and climbed over it, making almost no noise. Slowly he walked to the far end of the fire escape and carefully let the latter down, until it was within James’ reach.

Thirty seconds later everything was back in place again, with the slight difference that Q and James were now standing in front of a small, milk glass window with a white painted wooden Frame. There was no lock.

Q eyes the frame for a second.

"How exactly did you plan to get in? I would lend you my lock picks but if there is no lock that doesn't exactly help." asked James, voice low.

"Don’t be silly James. I have my own lockpicks."

"Why didn't we go in trough the front door then."

"That’s tasteless. Everyone knows doors are or people with no imagination." He bent down and untied his shoelaces, slipped his shoes off and then handed them to Bond. "Hold this."

"Q what-"

Q shushed him and proceeded to pull a small crowbar from one of his parkas’ many pockets.

"Why-- " James sighed. "Nevermind."

Q smiled sweetly and patted him on the shoulder. "Now, that’s the right attitude."

Within two minutes of careful and almost-silent meddling the old frame gave in and Q and James were standing in a small bathroom.

The tiles were white, the walls olive green and there were two toothbrushes sitting in a glass on the sink next to a small container containing some kind of hair product. Next to ancient looking bathtub that doubled as a shower there was a bootle of shower gel and shampoo. It was sparse.

Q stepped towards the door, which was only halfway shut.

James followed him, careful to make no noise, as he was still wearing his shoes. They made their way to the kitchen and living room.

Q took his shoes back and sat them down near what appeared to be the front door of the small flat. Then he gestured towards the couch. James took the hint and sat down while Q made his way to another door, which was shut completely. He knocked.

James rolled his eyes and slumped into the couch. After a few seconds there was the dry rustle of fresh sheets being pushed back, then steps. The door opened and a tall man appeared in the doorway.

Standing there, in the doorframe of a bedroom at 2 am, they looked eerily similar. Q held out his hand and the other shook it.

"Sherlock."

"Q. What a joy to see you well. What is your SIS agent doing on my couch?"

***

Everyone was ecstatic. They had just completed an important mission and It was Friday night. Where else could they have ended up but a pub.

The entirety of Q-branch as well as the double-ohs, Eve and Tanner had cramped into the closest establishment, celebrating the success of the day.

Q and Eve had taken over an entire table at the very back of the pub. After half an hour Tanner had sat down too and a few minutes later even Bond had joined their small circle.

Q and Eve were arguing about someone while Bill and James were trying to understand what was going on.

"Q wants to introduce me to someone, even though he knows I'm not interested in dating right now."

Bond frowned. "Didn't you say just yesterday you were forever in love with the scary one, what’s her name --"

Q sighed. " Morgana Pendragon, Duchess of Sussex, drama queen extraordinaire. Yes. But hear me out --"

"I don’t want to date."

"Unless its the duchess, yes. But please give her a chance? I'll give you her number and you guys can text, I bet you'd love her."

"Q, unless you have Morgana Pendragon’s phone number hidden away in that ridiculous parka of yours, I won't text anyone tonight, alright?"

"...uhm." Q looked uncomfortable.

Eve stared at him. "You’re kidding."

Bill raised his eyebrows gaze flickering between the two. "Wait, what’s going on."

"Q. Please tell me you didn't hack the Buckingham palace’s wifi and stole the phone number of the King’s daughter." Eve asked, suddenly very tense. Bond couldn't tell wether it was from nervousness or excitement.

Q didn't say anything.

Bill tapped his shoulder. "Q, you didn't do that right?"

"I didn't. Why would I do that?"

Eve shrugged, a bit disappointed. "I know you've done worse things for less."

"No I mean, why would I hack the wifi."

James laughed. "Moneypenny, how much exactly has he had to drink? Because I don’t think we should be explaining tech to the quartermaster of MI6."

Eve eyed Q suspiciously. "Not that much. Q are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. But why would I hack the palace’s wifi?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "According to Eve that’s how you would get Morgana Pendragon’s number." "

I don't need to hack the wifi for that! Has all this time working with me taught you nothing? --- I have Morgana's number on my mobile. She gave it to me ages ago.”

The others stared at him in disbelief.

“Why are you looking at me like that! I have lots of numbers -- Bill, first person that comes to mind, who is it.”

Tanner, looking not at all convinced, if a little intrigued, thought for a second before blurting out. “The Prime minister.”

Q rolled his eyes. Then he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and began scrolling trough the contacts. After a few seconds he turned his phone around to show it to the others. The display showed the name ‘A. Holmes’ and below it a Londoner number.

Eve sucked in a shaky breath. Bill and James turned towards her, clearly confused. Just because the name matched didn’t mean that it was actually the number of the Prime minister of England. She exhaled slowly. “Thats his number. It’s in M’s contact list.”

“Told you so.” Q huffed.

Bond seemed exited. “What about normal people! Do you know a John Hamish Watson? He saved my life in Afghanistan, few years back.”

Q scrolled trough his contacts until he found the right one, then showed it to James. “To be honest, I didn’t know his name was Hamish.”

“You know him Personally?”

”Why else would I have his number? He’s married to my brother.”

Eve took a large gulp of her drink. Bill just muttered something about a small world before emptying his beer.

James was smiling like a child on Christmas. “What else do you carry around! Do you have a knife? A screwdriver? Ohhh -- a flamethrower! Please tell me you carry around a flamethrower.”

Q looked pained but pulled out a metal cylinder. “We developed it some time ago. Can reach up to 500°C, depending on handling the reach is approximately 4 to 6 meter. Happy?”

James nodded vigorously stood, walked around the table and lifted a fumbling Q up from his chair.

“Wha--”

James smirked, carrying Q towards the door. Everyone who wasn’t entirely drunk by now stared at them in confusion. “We’re going to test out that flamethrower. Now.”

“But why do you have to carry me!”

“Because you’re the adult supervision, and because I want to.”

***

Q was in the field. He didn't like it one bit.

Contrary to what every double-oh seemed to believe he was trained as an agent, which at the time had been a simple issue of security. He was important and powerful. He had to be able to defend himself.

Now he was sneaking behind Bond trough the special security sector of the  biggest gene-manipulation company on the planet. Unofficially. Officially it was the third biggest seed producer on the market.

Q was slowly getting tired of the whole sneaking thing. Due to a week of planning, mostly filled with programming and some hacking he was now able to remote control the cameras in the building via his phone.

He had originally wanted to bring his laptop but together with the special equipment but there had been no space left in his bag what so ever.

He pressed a sequence of keys on his phone screen and the cameras in the next hallway over went dark. He gave Bond the signal for go and they went in, enabling the cameras behind them as they went.

Q searched the signs on the doors for the right one. If his calculations were correct it would be in the optimal position, laying almost at the centre of the building right below the high risk laboratories. Finally he spotted the right door and pointed, so Bond knew where they were heading. Q walked up to the door - non descriptive, generic, off-white - and opened to it and stepped inside.

The automated lights went on.

Bond, who was directly behind him stared. "Q are you sure --"

They were in the loos.

"Yes I'm sure. now help me." Q had sat down his messenger bag and was fumbling with the zipper of his black, MI6 issued tactical gear.

"My, my Quartermaster, how am I supposed to say no to that?"

Q flushed. "Not with my clothes 007, with the sink! We're going to steal it!"

"First of alI, am so coming back to that first thing later. Secondly: What?"

"The sink on the far left. Deinstall it."

"I don't have any plumbing gear, Q. I have a Walther and a com. And the com is pretty worthless when you're not on the other side."

Q’s complexion grew even darker at the flattery. "I have plumbing gear." He had finally managed to take of his jacket. He laid it out on the floor and opened a zipper at the top inner lining.

Inside there were two wrenches - apparently exactly the two sizes they needed - as well some other gear couldn't have named to save his life. They were all neatly held in place by rubber bands. Q only grabbed the jacket by the sleeves and dragged it to the very end of the room.

Q got to work, James assisting where he could, and within seven minutes the sink was laying on the floor. "What now? I'm assuming were not just here to steal this beautiful sink."

"Well we can't just leave it, can we?"

“We can't just take it either. They’ll notice it’s gone by tomorrow morning. Which is in three hours."

Q rolled his eyes and scoffed. He picked up his bag and opened the latch. There was sink inside. It looked exactly like the one they had just deinstalled. “It’s explosive.” Q said matter-of-factly, as though that would explain anything.

James nodded offhandedly. “You know what? I’m not even surprised.”

“Good. We have 2.75 hours left before the first shift arrives, so if you’d be so kind?”

“Of course.” James sighed.

***

James was sitting in Q branch. This was not unusual. He often hung around during off time to spend time with the minions, or so he claimed.

In reality he just shadowed Q.

It was an average Thursday night in one of the top secret services on the planet and James was tired.

Not hallucinatory tired though. He was pretty sure the blue police box had actually just appeared out of thin air.

He shrugged. This as Q branch. Q had everything under control.

"Q. A blue box just appeared out of nowhere. Should I be worried or get the kettle going?"

Q, who had just stowed away some paperwork in his desks drawers, appeared in the doorway. "Neither. He’s just here to pick something up."

"Of course love."

Q blushed and walked up the box instead. He knocked twice and waited. James stood and walked over.

"Q, love, please tell me there isn't someone inside the box."

Q rolled his eyes. "Only if you stop calling me love"

"Only if you agree to go get dinner with me."

The door opened. An old man with a shock of white hair stepped out. Behind him was a girl who appeared to be in her early twenties.

"Doctor please tell me we're not-"

"We're not."

"Then where-"

"MI6."

Her eyes went wide but she only uttered a quiet ‘Alright’ and closed the blue door behind her.

The white haired man who had just appeared out of a box which had appeared out of thin air extended his hand towards Q.

Q took it. "Nice to see you again." He said conversationally. "Bond. Meet the Doctor. Doctor, meet Bond."

The doctor nodded at James.

James nodded at the doctor.

The doctor scoffed. "I thought you Englisch were supposed to be polite." His accent was thick and clearly Scottish.

James smiled thinly. It was his I-am-amused-but-i-don’t-show-it smile. "I'm Scottish." He let some of his accent shine through.

Q turned to the girl. She wore a leather jacket and jeans and her coily hair was braided down the back of her head. "I'm Bill. I’m just tagging along."

James put his head to one side. "Nice to meet you Bill. I'm Bond. James Bond."

Q Rolled his eyes.

"And this--" James continued, "--is the lovely Q. He won't go on a date with me, although he clearly want to, so I call him love until he agrees." Bill nodded and turned to the doctor. "Why are we here again?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit some friend and-" he looked Bond over, "-friends of friends?"

"Yes. We were in the middle of something, remember? The puddle? My trapped girlfriend?"

The Doctor rubbed the palms of his hands together. "Ah yesss. Q if you could?”

Q handed him a small pen-like device. Except it wasn't a pen.

"Thanks. You'll get it back in one minute. Well one minute for you. We'll be off!" He turned around and strutted back into the box.

Bill followed him.

The doors closed and the box disappeared.

"Love, that was the single most weirdest thing that has ever happened to me and I'm a literal spy."

Q sighed. "I'll explain over dinner."

[jahntyphoon]

Performance at Brass Rail Pub 2 was slammin.

[madeinpop]

Made In PoP™ > eventi Rock in Veneto dal 5 all’11 Ottobre 2017 > stagione 15

Ciao Made-In-PoPpers, tra leggeri ritardi e salti mortali ecco una nuova lista di eventi. CHECcO & LoRIS «Sostenete la Musica, Andate ai Concerti» ► evento Made In PoP ◄ Ω SABATO 7 Ottobre Ω ᴥ ALTROQUANDO Osteria Musicale via Corniani 32 SANT'ALBERTO di Zero Branco (Tv) appuntamento THREE BLACKBIRDS, questa sera ospitando la band-rivelazione di questo ultimo periodo, i patavini TALK TO HER debitori di una certa indie-wave, tra Editors e White Lies, ma capaci di personalizzarla con ottimi risultati, recenti finalisti al contest di ArezzoWave. da NON perdere. https://www.facebook.com/events/285920635227331/ ► FESTIVAL ◄ Ɣ SUBCULTURE 2017 borgo Mazzini 1 TREVISO presso il chiostro ex-ISRAA due giorni, sabato 7 e domenica 8, di manifestazione dal titolo "Proibito" con performance, musica, proiezioni e dibattiti sul tema, per sapere cosa come quando leggi qui https://www.facebook.com/events/124570808188868/ Ɣ HORTIS Festival parco Ca' Diedo ODERZO (Tv) 6-8 Ottobre quinta edizione, rinviata a Settembre per maltempo, con un sacco di musica, expo artistiche e d'artigianato e molto altro. info e aggiornamenti https://www.facebook.com/events/258111241344859/ Ɣ Festa del MARON VALROVINA di Bassano del Grappa (Vi) XVIIIª edizione dal 6 all'8 Ottobre presso l'area giovani ci saranno expo artistiche, degustazioni e tanta musica, tra le band HIT-KUNLE, dettagli programma qui https://www.facebook.com/events/110533276332665/ ► SETTIMANA ◄ ► GIOVEDÌ 5 Ottobre ᴥ La SCALETTA Pub via Monte Grappa 8 CARMIGNANO di Brenta (Pd) si esibirà qui JOE SANKETTI cantautore che si muove tra blues, jazz, swing e bossanova. ᴥ IL CHIOSCO via Ariosto 10 PADOVA in giro a presentare le sue nuove canzoni, farà tappa qui l'inglese MISERABLE MAN busker folk, reggae, ska, calypso accompagnato da Giatamuta Giatà (Cafè Touba). ᴥ ALTROQUANDO Osteria Musicale via Corniani 32 SANT'ALBERTO di Zero Branco (Tv) serata di rock fm con ospiti i neozelandesi EKKO PARK accompagnati dai vicentini VIRTUAL TIME. ᴥ LIGHTHOUSE Pub via Noalese Sud 2 NOALE (Ve) qui troverete con il loro alt-rock fortemente influezanto dalla wave gli interessanti NIL-NIL.

► VENERDÌ 6 Ottobre ᴥ GOTO STORTO via Villanova TREBASELEGHE (Pd) release party per questo nuovo combo, i FATSOUL mathrock/funkrock in uscita per Dischi Bervisti, in apertura i potenti KOCISS. ᴥ BISTROCK via Rometta 13 S.MARTINO di Lupari (Pd) cantautorato acustico con protagonista il giovane GianLuca CHIARADIA folk-pop. ᴥ RICKY's Pub via Commerciale 12 ABBAZIA PISANI Villa del Conte (Pd) ritmi in levare per The CIALTRONS ska regga e con il cappello di paglia. ᴥ EDEN Cafè via XV Luglio TREVISO serata world music con il sound variegato dei romagnoli SUPERMARKET. ᴥ La STAZIONETTA borgo Pieve 109 CASTELFRANCO Veneto (Tv) in versione trio acustico, con ospite Carlo Colombo, saranno qui i QUARTO PROFILO. ᴥ LIGHTHOUSE Pub via Noalese Sud 2 NOALE (Ve) cautantorato folk-reggae èer SYSTALOVA una delle voci femminili emergenti nel panoramica italico. ᴥ ARG016 Arci Club via delle Industrie 27 MARGHERA (Ve) in collaborazione con EveryWhereGigs sarà qui ospite DJ FOOD celebre alfiere della Ninja Tune e dei Coldcut, che darà vita ad uno spettacolo audio/video sull'arte di Aphex Twin. ᴥ CENTRO STABILE di CULTURA via Leogra 4 San VITO di Leguzzano (Vi) sempre eventi di ricerca musicale e altissimo spessore, stasera sul palco IFRIQIYYA ELECTRIQUE dal deserto tunisino del Jerid i rituali musicali della comunità del Banga incontrano i suoni occidentali del XXIà secolo. ᴥ BOCCIODROMO via Rossi 198 VICENZA dalle 18 la Vicenza Hardcore organizza questo gig con le band ROUND7, NEITHER, SINATRAS e a seguire CREATE TO INSPIRE (Uk) FATHOMS (Uk) e KINGDOM of GIANTS (Us). ᴥ CRE-TA Live via Ca'Baroncello 2 San GIUSEPPE di Cassola (Vi) in collaborazione con UGLYDOGS sarà protagonista di uno showcase acustico dal titolo "Confidenziale" FEDERICO FIUMANI leader dei DIAFRAMMA. ᴥ Bar ROMA Art & Cafè via ROma 28 LONIGO (Vi) serata organizzata dal Pozzo dei Dannati che vedrà ospiti gli intensi BRUUNO post-HC/post-punk + band guest. ᴥ TERZO PONTE via della Ceramica 7 BASSANO del Grappa (Vi) arrivano dalla terra dei kiwi con il loro carico rock fm, sono gli EKKO PARK, in apertura DRAFT. ᴥ Club IL GIARDINO via Cao di Prà 82 LUGAGNANO di Sona (Vr) in arrivo da New York City il cantautore DOUG SEEGERS, in apertura il duo Zago-Bertasini. ᴥ Bar the BROTHERS via Olimpia GREZZANA (Vr) da Brescia il quartetto ENDRIGO rock sudato e diretto. ᴥ JACK the RIPPER Fest via Nuova 9 RONCÀ (Vr) rock energico e potente per il quartetto femminile in arrivo da LA, STARS AT NIGHT accompagnate dagli ANANDA MIDA (GoDown records).

► SABATO 7 Ottobre ᴥ BAHNHOF LIVE via Sant'Antonio 34 MONTAGNANA (Pd) grande festa di riapertura con tre ottimi live in programma, basato in Rep.Ceca ma con l'anima italica il duo OSWALDOVI rock psych, altro duo quello dei RIVERWEED garageblues e poi l'esplosività di MISS CHAI & the Broken Heels. ᴥ RICKY's Pub via Commerciale 12 ABBAZIA PISANI Villa del Conte (Pd) doppietta horror/metal/punk con i locals LUCIFER for PRESIDENT e da Cremona i RAGING DEAD. ᴥ MAME Club via Fra P.Sarpi 48 PADOVA saliranà sul palco qui stasera il duo japponese MELT-BANANA e il loro schizzofrenico sound tra hardcore e noise. ᴥ DUMP galleria Bailo 7 TREVISO riprendo i live pure in questo ottimo locale e ad inaugurare ci sarà l'alt-rock band trevigiana LaSCIMMIA (Sisma/Dischi Soviet Studio). ᴥ RADIO GOLDEN Bar piazza San Martino 13 CONEGLIANO (Tv) dal Canada per presentare il suo nuovo disco "Nuda" la cantautrice indiefolk ANDREA RAMOLO. ᴥ METRICUBI campo delle Erbe 2003 San Polo VENEZIA serata di riapertura per i live con grandissimo ospite il cantautore folk-blues KRANO in acustico. ᴥ CHINASKI music Pub via Cadorna 1 STRETTI di Eraclea (Ve) si esibirano due band, i THIS HASH THROW crossover e i FLAT FIFTY alternative. ᴥ ARG016 Arci Club via delle Industrie 27 MARGHERA (Ve) serata hardrock con ben tre band, PERFECT FIT, HELL'n'THEN e gli storici DARK LORD. ᴥ LIGHTHOUSE Pub via Noalese Sud 2 NOALE (Ve) dalla provincia di Cremona il duo bluespunk BIG HANDS & BAREFOOT. ᴥ IL BRUCO Circolo Operaio via Cristoforo 69 MAGRÈ di Schio (Vi) ore 21 party con la Red Eyes Dischi che ospiterà i LINEOUT punkrock Milano, i MENAGRAMO countrypunk Milano e i locals FOLKS, STAY HOME postorck. ᴥ VINILE Club via Capitano Alessio 92 ROSÀ (Vi) sul palco il seventy sound con influenze progressive dei MAD FELLAZ a seguire flower power party. ᴥ BOCCIODROMO via Rossi 198 VICENZA release party per "Leavers" disco registrato negli States dai REGARDE punk/emo/rock, assieme a loro sul palco i FUTBOLIN e i DAGS. ᴥ COHEN Pub via Scarsellini 9 VERONA dagli States in arrivo il cantautore rock JOSEPH PARSONS in duo, già membro degli US RAILS. ᴥ COLORIFICIO KROEN via Paccinotti 19 VERONA festa di riapertura con il celeberrimo DJ GRUFF (SangueMisto, Casino Royale e altri). ► DOMENICA 8 Ottobre ᴥ ROCKARONCH 2017 strada provinciale del Combai VALDOBBIADENE (Tv) dalle 14 festa del "maron" con live dei MAC BULL hardrock. ᴥ Centro GIOVANI via Dall'Acqua 27 RONCADE (Tv) dalle 16 concerti per le band della sala prove, suoneranno Mongolfiera di Gens, NNO Project, AR/duo, FROGGYS FOG FLIUS, Mistico Bar, SUPERPORTUA. ᴥ PUNKY REGGAE Pub via Barbarigo 15 LIEDOLO si San Zenone degli Ezzelini (Tv) dalle 17 aperitivo stoner/punk/sludge con le band canadesi HEDKS ,duo femminile  , e i BRASS. ᴥ Circolo MESA via Da Vinci 50 MONTECCHIO Maggiore (Vi) ad orario aperitivo ci sarà la cantautrice folk NANA e il suo disagio acustico a presentare il nuovo disco. ᴥ GROOVE via Martiri della Libertà (Vi) aperitivo acoustic sunday con l'accoppiata LAIL ARAD cantautorato indie folk da Londra e JF ROBITAILLE Canada. ᴥ Teatro CAMPLOY via Cantarane 32 VERONA serata benefica per la Nadia Onlus dalle 18, ci sarà lo swing del trio The PTJ e le Dame del Ritmo, inoltre esibizione di tap dance con l'insegnante Licia e altri. ᴥ MAME Club via Fra P.Sarpi 48 PADOVA dalle 19 finale della rassegna legata al RISE Festival, purtroppo rinviata per maltempo, con i gruppi TRECHIODI, JUNK STREET, ATELES, SEVILLE e SKYSCRAPERS. ᴥ WHYDANGHI Associazione via Roma 70 CADONEGHE (Pd) dopo cena progressive jazz core con il trio SKUFITZA ROSHI.

► LUNEDÌ 9 Ottobre ᴥ ALTROQUANDO Osteria Musicale via Corniani 32 SANT'ALBERTO di Zero Branco (Tv) in collaborazione con GoDown racords saranno qui le hard'n'rollers losangeline STARS AT NIGHT.

► MARTEDÌ 10 Ottobre ᴥ ALTROQUANDO Osteria Musicale via Corniani 32 SANT'ALBERTO di Zero Branco (Tv) sempre grandissimi ospiti, stasera dalla California del Sud RADIO MOSCOW hard-psych power trio + KALEIDOBOLT. ᴥ PROFONDO ROSSO spritz bar Da FiFo fondamenta degli Ormesini 2839 Canareggio VENEZIA i live, soprattutto quelli rumorosi come stasera, iniziano ben presto, ci sarà il quartetto femminile STARS AT NIGHT hard'n'roll.

► MERCOLEDÌ 11 Ottobre ᴥ LIGHTHOUSE Pub via Noalese Sud 2 NOALE (Ve) fa tappa anche qui il tour europeo degli SHANDY, gang di bovver rock da Brisbane, Australia, punkrock scuotinatiche tutto da batter le mani e ballare.

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• http://shyrec.bandcamp.com/

[ianfaulkner1-blog]

​By Roxanne Reid Imagine the foresight it must take to see a bare patch of veld and dream up a fully fledged village and health spa in the middle of nowhere. This is what happened when Scottish railwayman James Logan founded in South Africa back in 1884. Discover why to visit Lord Milner Hotel and in the .

​Imagine too the tenacity of Logan going ahead with his plans to build The Lord Milner Hotel in 1899, in the early stages of the Anglo Boer War of 1899-1902. Before long some 10 000 British troops were camping around the village and the hotel was taken over as a military hospital, the turret as a lookout. 

The facade of the Lord Milner Hotel

Once the war was over, the town and hotel were restored to their intended purpose as hotel and health spa while the concession at the station did a roaring trade supplying steam trains with water and passengers with refreshments. People who flocked to for its curative clean air in those early days included the likes of writer and feminist Olive Schreiner, Winston Churchill’s father Randolph, colonial empire builder Cecil John Rhodes and writer Rudyard Kipling. That today is a time capsule of the Victorian era is thanks to another visionary who came along almost a century later. Hotelier David Rawdon did such a good job of restoring the hotel and town to their former glory that was declared a National Monument in 1975.

Old fashioned fuel pumps and broekie lace on the main road

​There’s an ageless tranquillity here that’s hard to find in the fast-paced modern world. There’s little traffic so you can wander the streets in peace, admire old buildings and outdated petrol pumps on the side of the road, follow a puff of dust and see where it takes you.

The Laird's Arms pub

When the Blue Train or Rovos Rail stops at the Victorian station, visitors pour out like ants to visit the museum and the hotel, to admire the buildings in a time warp. It’s a frenetic time with lots of foot traffic and clicking of cameras, but things settle down when the whistle blows and the train moves away again on its trans- journey. ​​Then it’s time for those left behind to take tea in one of the hotel’s lounges or order a drink in the pub, to go for a walk across the veld or, later in the afternoon, to watch the sunset and the first glimmerings of what will be a spectacular night sky here in the dry . Relax. Breathe in the clean air. Surrender yourself to be restored and revitalised so you can face a return to city life with equanimity.

train on its trans- journey

Things to do in 1. Download the free VoiceMap app (Apple and Android) as a guide to walk you around the village, point out some of the old buildings and fill you in on the little village’s intriguing history. 2. Take a trip on the old London double-decker red bus. At 18:00 each day except Sunday it takes visitors on a short tour of the village, picking out some of the landmarks like the house where Olive Schreiner stayed and the field where England and South Africa played the first friendly cricket match (James Logan was a great cricket fan). Finish your whistle-stop tour at the Laird’s Arms (see point 5) next to the hotel in time for a drink before dinner.

Old carts and a London red bus outside the station

3. Delve into the past in the museum – all three of them. The Transport Museum has a collection of vintage cars from the 1930s to 1960s, old bikes and train carriages. The Railway Museum on the station platform has a station master’s office dating back to the 1890s and the original signal room. 

Wouldn't you love these see these gents out on the road in ?

Victorian furniture in one of the small, cold rooms beneath the station

​By far my favourite place to get lost for an hour or two is the Marie Rawdon Museum under the station. There are vast collections of everything from kitchen utensils, old cameras and typewriters, to bedpans, dolls and war souvenirs, even a full-on pharmacy. The rooms under the station used to be a jail during the Anglo Boer War; feel the cold and damp and imagine what it must have been like for the prisoners during a winter. 

Collection of bedpans and basins in the museum

Museum collections include cobbler's equipment and woodworking tools

The apothecary, or pharmacy, in museum

4. Walk around the village with your camera to capture memories of the restored old buildings. See the house where Olive Schreiner stayed in attempt to cure her asthma in the dry air, the old post office (now a gift shop) where she used to post her letters. Admire the bank building with its original teller’s counter and banking equipment intact, the pink church that used to be a concert hall and school until the 1960s. 

The old post office

​The yellow courthouse and jail would have been known to Boer hero Gideon Scheepers who spent time in the jail before he was tried for treason in Graaff-Reinet and executed by firing squad in 1902. 

court house and jail

​Visit Logan’s General Store (now a coffee shop) and see the flourmill and mineral waterworks where Logan produced lemonade and ginger beer to sell to travellers. A windmill harnessed the winds to generate electricity – a South African first – and power the mill. There’s a rather nice collection of succulents in the garden today.

General Store, now a coffee shop

5. Spend some time in the Laird’s Arms to soak up its saloon-like ambience. A local character, Johnny, plays rousing honky-tonk tunes in the evenings while you order a drink at the polished wooden bar with its shiny brass taps. It’s a wonderful place to imagine what the atmosphere in must have been like more than a hundred years ago. If you’re here at lunch time, order a pub lunch.

Johnny at the piano in the Laird's Arms

Atmospheric dark wood and brass in the Laird's Arms pub

6. Explore the hotel, its grand staircase and reception rooms for a feel of what those who came here for their health at the turn of the 20th century would have experienced. Take a seat here or there to fully appreciate the moment. 

The grand staircase in the hotel's lobby

One of the sitting rooms at the Lord Milner Hotel

I love the sitting room at the back where the piano is; last time we visited a young couple was enjoying a cup of tea, retreating into the coolness from a stinking hot day outside.

The music room, with its piano and harp

7. Ask the staff about the ghosts that are said to haunt the hotel. On our very first visit we heard about a woman in white who is sometimes seen near the tower. On our most recent visit, we commented on the strange eyes of the blonde-haired child in a painting in the Marie Rawdon Museum. The chap in the museum told us that a visitor had recently taken a photo of it with her cell phone, another with her daughter’s camera. Then she screamed and came scuttling out as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. Turned out the cell phone pic was fine, but in the other there was a shadow over the child’s shoulder as if someone was standing behind her. A ghost? Who can tell?

Painting of the girl who may have a ghost over her shoulder

8. Explore the gardens behind the hotel to appreciate how they survive in the extremes of really hot summers and really cold winters. If you go far enough you’ll discover the swimming pool, where residents can relax on a lounger with a good book.

Rooms set in green gardens

9. Duck into the tiny traveller’s chapel along the river behind the hotel to imagine how perfect it would be for an intimate wedding. Take a moment to appreciate the serenity and listen to the sounds of the tinkling fountain outside. The building’s original use was far less unruffled; it used to house gas-generating equipment to light the town.

Traveller's chapel,

10. See David Rawdon’s house where he died in 2010. It’s the last cottage down the side road where the pink church is. Someone told us he ordered champagne the night he died and the bottle and glass have been left untouched. Someone else told us it was whisky so – as with all good legends – the stories are already getting jumbled. 11. Enjoy dinner in the Victorian-style dining room with its dark antique furniture and heavy drapes. The food is of the traditional variety, with bobotie, lamb shank and malva pudding making an appearance. Service is friendly but slow when the dining room is full, so try to relax and downshift to time.

Things to do in : take a walk on the veld

12. Go for a walk in the veld, to feel the ‘sense of wild exhilaration and freedom’ that Olive Schreiner so loved. There used to be a British encampment with 10 000 men and 20 000 horses here in about 1900, so you might even pick up a relic from those days. ​

The hotel at night

accommodation When it comes to your accommodation, you get a choice between suites or rooms in the hotel, historic cottages in the village, or the lower priced Matjies Motel for more budget conscious travellers. I’ve stayed in a cottage in the village, the main hotel (which I love for its classic style) and the Riverbank Rooms at the motel. The latter aren’t as posh as the hotel but still perfectly comfortable at a lower price, with the bonus of a parking spot close to your door. Like it? Pin this image! 

You may also enjoy Spend a night in jail at Willowmore in the National Park: the ultimate guide Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za

[laejri-waetwe]

Rail Classics Brass X-40b 50' Box Car Pennsylvania #37021 HO Scale 1/87 http://rover.ebay.com/rover/1/711-53200-19255-0/1?ff3=2&toolid=10044&campid=5337506718&customid=&lgeo=1&vectorid=229466&item=333085731045&pub=5575041009

[chorusfm]

Rational Anthem – “Unimaginary Girlfriend” (Video Premiere)

Today I’m proud to premiere the latest single from Rational Anthem called “Unimaginary Girlfriend.” The band, who are originally from Florida, are set to release their new record It’s Only Permanent on November 1st via A-F Records. This video captures the band’s energy from their live shows and their great personalities. If you like what you hear, pre-orders are now up. Tour Dates 10/31 – Iowa City, IA – Gabe’s (Record Release Show) 11/1 – Nashville, TN – Springwater Supper Club 11/2-11/3 – Gainesville, FL – The Fest 11/4 – Sarasota, FL – The Cock N Bull 11/6 – St. Petersburg, FL – Lucky You Tattoo 11/7 – Jacksonville, FL – Rain Dogs 11/8 – Charlotte, NC – The Milestone Club 11/9 – Lancaster, PA – The Lizard Lounge 11/10 – Boston, MA – O’Brien’s Pub 11/11 – Brooklyn, NY – Gold Sounds 11/12 – Millvale, PA – The Fun House 11/13 – Ft. Wayne, IN – The Brass Rail 11/14 – Chicago, IL – The Owl --- Please consider supporting us so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/features/exclusive/rational-anthem-unimaginary-girlfriend-video-premiere/

[soundrenaissance]

Acid Dad Touring With Honduras This Spring

by Dillon Price on February 23, 2017

Photo from Wolfstuff Presents

New York garage quartet Acid Dad have announced Spring tour dates with Honduras. The first show will happen on March 29 at DC9 in Washington, DC. Tickets go on sale tomorrow (2/24).

Last year, Acid Dad released Lets Plan A Robbery (purchase). Stream some tracks and see the full tour schedule below:

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Acid Dad/Honduras 2017 Tour Schedule Mar 29 DC9 Washington, DC Mar 30 Machines With Magnest Providence, RI Mar 31 Milkboy Philadelphia, PA Apr 1 The Drake Underground Toronto, ON Apr 2 Studio @ The Waiting Room Buffalo, NY Apr 4 Mahall’s Cleveland, OH Apr 5 Double Happiness Columbus, OH Apr 6 MOTR Pub Cincinnati, OH Apr 7 Shakespeare’s Lower Level Apr 8 Frequency Madison, WI Apr 9 Schubas Chicago, IL Apr 11 Brass Rail Fort Wayne, IN Apr 12 Brillobox Pittsburgh, PA Apr 13 BSP Kingston, NY Apr 14 Wonder Bar Asbury Park, NJ Apr 22 Rough Trade Brooklyn, NY

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Acid Dad Touring With Honduras This Spring was originally published on Sound Renaissance

[laejri-waetwe]

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[laejri-waetwe]

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[laejri-waetwe]

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[laejri-waetwe]

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[laejri-waetwe]

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[laejri-waetwe]

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