Glasgow Kisses, Birmingham Ghosts

Glasgow is a very beardly city. Look at all this facial hair:



For those of you not in the know, there is a citywide law that actually prohibits shaving for the duration of the spring. Something about it being bear season (hear that Grandmaster B?), or rabbit season, or the season of the resurrection, or the wheat harvest, or the beer harvest…

Anyway, the lovely Rory, the freshly coiffed Graham (aka Dolby Anol), and our Franzy friends led us into quite a debauched evening, one which I entirely blacked out. Thankfully—or regrettably—Dyan had enough presence of mind to snap a few pics for posterity.







I was in such a daze by the time we reached Birmingham that I was almost completely oblivious to the fact that the Barfly audience had an (un)healthy contingent of ghosts. Like, seriously. That place is built on a morgue. Creepy.

Alright, I'm tired, and Leeds awaits.

I love you all, passionately.

Ben Lee Handler

Oh yes! We must help my friend and disciple Johnny Spunkhands come up with a new nickname. Such a handsome man deserves a handsome stage name... Any suggestions are welcome!