December Newsletter

Xmas time, mistletoe and wine
Brandy's good, but Gin is just fine!

Festive Salutations my Codies!

Before I commence this yuletide barrel of tosh, I must first of all tell you how glad both myself and Biggles are to have escaped the confines of Lily Allen's posterior. We were released because she's decided to take a break from music, much to our relief and the world at large! However, the whole terrible incident has left me with a terrible affliction which results in my left leg involuntarily jutting out at a right angle. Do believe me my frost-bitten funsters when I say that this alone would be enough to live with. However, it's accompanied by a twitch in my right shoulder and an exhalation of air which starts off like a creaking door and finishes in a double grunt. Walking past the village school at lunchtime was far from my finest hour!

'Tis December and.....

"A tule fog fills the sky--Yuletide. "- Michael P. Garofalo, Cuttings

Quick, Gaffer's been in the cellar and is running off with the nut loaf! I'm not falling for his Jedi mind tricks. Last year he told me there was a dead frog in the leaves, and ran off with my finest port whilst my back was turned. Fortunately, Aunt Jinny was backing out of the pantry and took Gaffer's legs out with her somewhat oversized backside. Huzzah!

"In ancient times, both Druids and Romans hung sprigs of mistletoe in their homes and places
of celebration to bring good fortune, peace and love."

Mmm, interesting. I hang bulbs of garlic to keep Lady GaGa from darkening my doorstep.

On hearing the news of my release, the troublesome trio decided to pay me a visit. Well actually they used an innocent girl to knock on the front door whilst they broke into my house round the back. Regardless, I caught them spying on me from inside the laundry room. So after tying them to chairs and playing Britney Spears at full volume on repeat for five hours whilst waving a bottle of Jack Daniels before their eyes, I obtained the following information.....

Upcoming gigs are:

Dec 21st 2009 - Honeytone Winter Wonderland @ Basement City Screen, York 8pm
Feb 18th 2010 - Dublin Castle - Camden, London 9.15pm
Feb 20th 2010 - Underbelly - Hoxton, London 7.15pm

Also if you're short of ideas for presents for your nearest and dearest, visit the Honeytone online shop where t-shirts are now available as well as other goodies.......it beats a xmas jumper, you know it!

That's it from me my darlings, until the new year. Drink and be merry!

Merry Xmas and a furry New Bear!

Fuck art! Let's commiserate with popular entertainment as news breaks that Lily Allen will be opening a clothes boutique, so she'll still be peddling her own brand of c**p.

xxx

Honeytone Cody's Winter Wonderland

November Newsletter

Dear Acolytes of Honeytone Cody,

Let me introduce myself. I am the Right Honourable Percy Reynolds Isambard Chafing-Knightly Q.C. and this issue of the newsletter is written on behalf of my cousin Tigger who, at present is not with us. I shall explain...........

My dear mother Maude held her annual Fortean evening on Hallow's Eve which as ever was well attend by circus freaks, magicians, Honeytone Cody, lawyers etc. The post-prandial entertainment was in the form of a seance during which both my cousin and his chum Biggles were sucked through a portal into a dark and cruel world! Fortunately, contact was established after a few hours, and the news was/is not good.
Tigger and Biggles are being held captive in a prison inside Lily Allen's arse. The prison is governed by Kate Nash, and they are tortured daily by La Roux who are the guards of the cell block. In the cell to their left is Bowie, and Prince is in the cell to the right. In fact, the whole place is littered with souls of esteemed musicians who have perished under the regime of forced labour. Each day they are transported by Bono's army to the depths of Ms. Allen's bowels where they are forced to mine the contents and forge them into singles. As you can imagine the success rate is dismal and morale is low. I suggested that it should it be easy to create a detonation with all of the fertile matter that lay about, which would blast Tiggsy and Biggsy back to us. However, not even that's possible as Muse (the three-headed hound of hell) is watching every move!

Pray for them my children!

On a lighter note, the band mother had flown in for the occasion was splendid. They were called the Boys from the Bayou and were made up of One-Leg Lewis on drums, Rickets Rogers on double-bass, Fingerless Freddie on the organ, Blind Bob Bobbin' on guitar and Bleeding Gums on mouth-organ and vocals. They were shaking the foundations with their unique brand of foot-stomping bluesdiscojazztronica when they truly drove the crowd wild. Over-enthusiastic onlookers were flicking the light switches on and off to get a strobe effect, when One-Leg started playing what my nephew said was a "mad drum and bass" beat while Bleeding Gums threw himself on the floor and was doing the most amazing shapes with his body. Given the combined age of the band was 500, it was spectacular!......well, so we thought. It turned out that the current from the light switches was interfering with One-Leg's pace-maker, and the flickering lights sparked off Bleeding Gum's epilepsy. Never fear, after a few glugs of Aunt Bunty's homemade gin they played so much that One-Leg is now "Legless" Lewis and Fingerless Freddie is "Bloodied Stump".

Now pay attention, or I'll have to spank you.

All.

Individually.

Mmm.

If you too like nothing better than watching a ramshackle bunch of musicians that don't look like much but know how to play their instruments, then why not tootle along to one of the following performances by those three liberals my cousin witters on about?

5th November - Hatch @ Bradford Playhouse
19th November - Basement @ York City Screen
28th November - Hatch @ Bradford Playhouse
12th December - TBC Edinburgh

Right! Can't sit around talking to you lot all day, I've been a bad, bad, naughty Judge. Ethel? Where's the cue ball?

Fuck art, Let's get pissed up with popular entertainment, smack up a toilet attendant and get to number one. Kebab anyone?

Basement Flyer

Charlotte Hatherly Flyer

Print this off and bring it to the gig to get in cheaper

September Newsletter

Anchors away Codies!

Splice the main brace, batten down the hatches, set sail and cut the cheese!

Yes my dears, 'tis time again for yet another instalment from a kidney failing fop! This time I write to you from on board the esteemed liner "Steamboat Piggy", where I have decided to make an escape from the oversized hands of my former belle du jour the Baroness Anya Betagetamirkin. Turns out she was after a wedding, and being condemned to a regimen of muesli and exercise is certainly unbecoming of a man of my cocktail consuming capabilities!

"My heart will, my heart will gooo oooon!" Shame the same can't be said of my liver.

Last night saw Biggles, my dear cousin Marjorie and I at a splendid meal as guests of the Captain.

Seated to my left was the famous American pilot Fanny Packer, renowned for her aerial acrobatics and her fearless troupe The Flying Fluffers. After informing me (like the salmon that was served) she too had once been spread upon the Captain's table, she announced that she would be sharing the bill at the after dinner show. At such wonderful news the plates were cleared and we made our way to the theatre in anticipation!

The opening act was Dr Mike Krustibutz, who tried to demonstrate the power of the mind by exploding a giant balloon at the back of the room by telekinesis. The strain proved rather too much and the doctor was only successful in breaking wind which sounded like "Yankee Doodle". Fanny and her Fluffers took to the the stage thinking this was their cue. Fanny was with three of her colleagues whilst two were on the high wire above them. Unfortunately, one of the troupe slipped on the residue of Dr Mike's efforts, ricocheted off Fanny and into the pole supporting the high wire. A Fluffer fell and landed head first upside down into the lap of the Captain's wife Juanita Vermouth!

Taking this as Fanny's finale, the main act (the Great Conquistador Del Fuego) reeled onto the stage to demonstrate his fire-breathing prowess! The Conquistador had been combating his pre-performance nerves at the end of the bar since midday and promptly fell over Fanny. As he did so, he jettisoned an earth-scorching flame (fuelled no doubt by the brandy consumed) which removed Juanita's recently acquired beard, set a Fluffer on fire, burst Dr Mike's balloon and set off the sprinklers. The audience were delighted by such a display of incompetence, mishap and blatant alcoholism and gave a standing ovation!

"Jack! I'm flying Jack!"

Quick, Marjorie's broken into the Captain's quarters and stolen the rum! The flibbertigibbet's gone gaga!.....well not completely Gaga..... to do so would require a mangina.

Now listen here, my French fancies. Biggles and I saw those scarlet-fever ridden scoundrels sunning themselves on deck. So we decided to approach them in disguise. I was in a floor length fur coat with fur top hat and silver cane, and Biggles was in doublet and hose with knee length trainer socks, backwards baseball cap and stick-on tattoos. To ensure we were not recognised by the Honeytones, I spoke in Dolphin whilst Biggles translated in the dialect of the indigenous peoples of Barnsley. Together we found out that they are apologetic to those were expecting to see them at the Galtres Festival. Preparations were hindered by the accursed swine 'flu and a nasty bout of partnericus twatticus. However, you can still see them on Sept 19th when they will be supporting Charlotte Hatherley at The Duchess in York at 2pm. They also have two nights lined up at The Basement, the first is on Oct 3rd supporting Doll and The Kicks at 8pm and the second on Oct 10th at 8pm which they are headlining. As usual, you can keep abreast of their comings and goings through the usual channels of facebook, twitter et al...... So, my dears I bid you farewell until November when I shall hopefully be back on dry land and my brain soaked in gin.

Fuck art, let's load the shotgun of popular entertainment with high velocity cartridges and find out if La Roux is indeed bulletproof!

x x x

July Newsletter

Get your bags packed and sally forth my gambolling lambs!

It's time again for the musings and ramblings of a man hallucinating on the fumes of gout. But first, a word of warning my sun-kissed sweeties....never speak to children!

I was passing by the vicarage when the Vicar Tilitt-Herts invited me in for an afternoon snifter in his delightful garden. Now as you know my cherubs, I'm not one to over-indulge when it comes to the divine pleasure of gin. However, on this occasion I was nothing short of pickled when the Vicar's brother, Randy Tilitt-Herts arrived with the Vicar's niece Ophelia and the family dog called Tiddles. All was going swimmingly until Tiddles took a shining to the leg of some garden furniture and became visibly aroused. Now Ophelia, being a child, asked not only why Tiddles was doing what he was doing, but also what the protrusion between his legs was. Not wanting to scare her I merely explained that Tiddles had a little too much change in his pockets and the protrusion was some "lipstick" he was trying out by rubbing it against the table. Two weeks later I received a letter informing me that I was not allowed within 500 yards of the entire Tilitt-Herts family!

More tea?

'Tis July and the countryside beckons, as I'm sure many of you have already been making the most of June's delights with the odd firmly packed hamper or two stashed in the trunk of your vehicles!

Speaking of junk in the trunk, I'm pleased to say that I've been courting! On a short visit to Scotland, I met the delightful Baroness Anya Betagetamirkin. We met at my cousin's shooting party; All I was shooting were cocktails, as the first and last time I wielded a firearm ended in disaster. I mistook Dame Jenny Snipzibusch's hat for a pheasant so I fired, the result of which is a bolt which keeps the top of her head on, and the side effect is that she picks up NASA transmissions and can speak to astronauts. Ever the entrepreneur, Dame Jenny now makes a fortune working for the weather channel. What I first noticed about Baroness Anya, is that she sports the finest moustache only a true lady could wear, and I knew the instant I saw her, I had to woo her! Whilst she's not one for playing the piano, she would be only too happy to oblige should the occasion arise where one should require such an instrument to be pushed up a rather steep incline! That's right my kidney-failing cuties, she's sturdy in both height and width and a real beauty to behold!

Enough of my genital induced, sorry I mean love-struck ramblings! It's time once again for the latest from Biggles the spy-hamster who lost his arms whilst escaping the confines of Lily Allen's oversized arse.... Or was it her mouth?.....Does anyone know which is which?..

Tickets are now available online for the Galtres festival on the last weekend in August so get them while their hot! The Cody freaks will also be filming some extra shots for the final edit of the video for Radioactive Tease. Both the single and the video will be released in August, so there'll be more Honeytone action than you can shake a stick at! But that's not all my darlings. The trio of fools are going into the studio in November, and rumour has it that they may be filming a documentary of the recording! Don't get too excited you might leak!

Oh yes, before I forget my little cinnamon buns, the newsletters are now going bi-monthly.

Fuck art, here's some basic science: Big Brother = Handshandy = Popular entertainment + Davina McCall

xxx