Oh my. A weekend of sitting out in the sunshine and turning slightly pink, only eating things that came off the barbecue, copious amounts of Bulmers with ice and partaking in four-player MarioKart Wii till the small hours of the morning. (My swearing abilities increase tenfold when I'm having a particularly bad race. Or when someone picks Yoshi before I get a chance to.) All of which took place back home home (on the range, like), where there's a deck to sit out on and alpacas to befriend.
As luck would have it, David O'Doherty was doing a gig a mere twenty minutes away from my house on Sunday night. I had discovered this fact during my spell of inconsolable jealousy when he was supporting Flight of the Conchords at the Olympia and I was woefully ticketless. As such, I became determined to at least see him live. Especially since the last time was Electric Picnic in 2008 and this just would not do.
The great thing about the venue was that it was so small he barely needed a microphone, and our seats were about two feet away from the side of the stage, to the extent that when he thanked the crowd for coming he actually just said it to me seeing as I was the closest one, as he put it. The gig itself was a minimum of eight kinds of deadly, the first half mostly featured his reasons for being late (an untrustworthy and seemingly quite pervy Sat Nav was to blame) and in the second half the tiny Yamaha keyboard was unleashed. During the course of the gig, he ended up asking me and the Bear what we'd been up to that day, which led to about ten minutes of David asking me questions about alpacas. I was subsequently referred to as Llama Girl, and he even worked them into one of his songs. Which was exactly as fucking deadly as it sounds.