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I was in a punk band. We played a Sunday afternoon gig in a skittle alley in Glyn-Neath. The support act was a stripper. Her mum (about 75 years old) stood beside the stripper catching her clothes. It was some kind of allegory.
Then we went on...
The crowd started shouting “strippers strippers” “get em off lads”. It began to escalate further and the audience started to bowl the the skittle balls down the alley at us.
We were paid £120 for that gig.No dog eggs though
Alf0nse
@Sharkstar
When I left school I formed a punk band with some friends. Our oeuvre was inspired by a love of existential literature and swearing (example song title ‘Telling Lies about Josef K (Cunt!)’). We hired a room above a local pub for rehearsals that was home to the pub’s giant alsatian dog, who regularly left a massive turd on the stage for us to clear up before we began. One time, we were interrupted by the stripper the pub employed who came in to put her clothes back on.