let the lambent eyed, sylph-like Bees’ team select a healing libation for you from amidst the mysterious scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, let the music take control. Lehrer declared satire to be dead thanks to Kissinger, but now the Trump has revived it and is dancing the mambo with it’s rotting corpse around his gold-plated elevator, while Farage gargles out swivel-eyed yelps of applause - let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH provide a haven of consistency in a fast-changing world thanks to the unswerving dedication of Luke “String Theory” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Hadron Collider” Thomas (drms) as they shift into another dimension through the glowing portal opened in the space-time continuum by the sheer irresistibility of their subatomic swing, aided by me on terrestrial bass. The reality of the prolonged period of uncertainty is such that it’s beyond the power of the most exquisitely composed Facebook post to pour calming oil upon the troubled waters without it resembling Deepwater Horizon. grab yer axe down off the shelf and come and join us out here in the torrid joyful jungles of meatspace, come try it, you’ll like it. don’t sit at home hypnotised by the glowing screen, giving up the meagre details of your insignificant existence to be harvested by the malignant Chthulu-type entities who lurk in the interstices of the digital flow, reducing you to a dreary little pile of stats ready to be mis-interpreted by the blind gibbering augurs who compile opinion polls or traded by some algorhythm that no-one even understands anymore. JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is on hand to throw you a lifeline, as those stalwart heroes of the groove Luke ‘Luke’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Loz’ Thomas (drms) throw down an endless stream of all-inclusive soulful swinging music, aided by me on hastily reconfigured bass, and the diverse and tolerant Bee’s team wait in the fragrant shadows that still cluster behind the well-stocked bar, despite the chill winds blowing in from the Prolonged Period Of Uncertainty, ready to hand over a healing libation of top-quality liquor. Here you are, thrashing about in the septic swamp of post-factual infotainment, ears ringing from the endless trumpery being trumpeted about by the malign chorus of fake news outlets, or ‘liars’ as we used to call them in the the pre-digital age, eyes blinking in the pitiless glare reflected from the golden lift, nostrils smarting from the acrid friction stench of ineffectual liberal handwringing. don’t let it get to you, get to it first, then grab yer axe down off the shelf and come and join us, celebrate, let’s have a good time. who knows what the hell is going to happen next? It’s enough to send you a bit Kanye, so best get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH before anything else happens, and relax in the certainty that Luke “Improbability Drive” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “42” Thomas (drms) will be ready and waiting to spin their web of musical enchantment with the hottest slickest grooves in town, aided by me on bass, plus a whole cast of musos, winos, wierdos, psychonauts, cosmic voyagers, dweebs, hucksters, shills, barkers, plus our valued regulars and the peerless Bee’s team, lurking in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar like the very embodiment of your secret desire. The Trump announces that he actually loves those gayers and mexicoids, but he’s deffo going to get tough on alien abductions starting NOW. Anonymous hackers claim responsibility for Black Friday. Fidel’s secret wardrobe is finally opened, to reveal a range of snazzy hawaiian shirts, tuxedos and spangled jumpsuits.
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