I looked down just about every bottle of beer that was put in my hand, all the way to the bottom and did not find her anywhere. For three days we looked and she just wasn’t at the bottom of any of my glasses, where could she be?
I did find the Gobshite himself Pete Depressed wandering around all weekend looking to, he couldn’t find her either. We sat and talked it over, he convinced me to start my own band and actually be in it instead of just managing it. I told him I can’t remember lyrics to save my life, he said he was the same way when he got his start, yeah but has no one heard of you can’t teach a old dog new tricks and I’m the oldest dirtiest mangiest mutt out there. So after convincing me I decided that I couldn’t be distracted anymore and move on to the other side of the bar thinking I saw Clare over there. Well when I got to that side of the bar she wasn’t there but my old bag squeezing friend Joe from Black 47 was there hanging out with P2. Himself and I looked down a few bottles for her while we regaled days of old. We still couldn’t find her for the life of us.
Well finally Icewagon Flu got off the stage, and I was sure they would know, but at last after grabbing more bottles and searching down the one they was sure she would be, she once again eluded us. My brother was sure the shooter girls would know and pursued them for the truth rather vigorously, they didn’t know and he paid for his interrogation in the morning for sure, with memory loss, extreme loss of motivate to continue the hunt early, and strange unexplained headaches.
As The Gobshites played I was too distracted to look, as I felt compelled to sing along to there haunting love ballads and sweet classical music. Still riding on the high of such a great energy filled live set from Icewagon Flu, the Shites were able to step it up even one more notch. I’ve always said it’s not really how good the band plays there instruments, but how well they play the crowd, and this weekend showed why these particular bands are the top of the music scene for sure. But I digress, this is a hunt for Clare and I can’t be distracted!
I return to the bar with the indifferent and not to helpful bartenders opened a couple bottles that I might be where I’d find her, but no luck, I’ll just have to keep looking, but wait who’s on now? That old blond haired leprechaun in green shoes just jumped up wailing on his guitar, this could be interesting. All this determined searching for Clare also pulls me towards distraction after continuously being disappointed of not finding her. So I decide to get around me a good group of folks and chat up the dealings of the weekend and listen to that ever popular Black 47 organized noise. Joe was up there squeezing has bag in front of everyone in between swigs from a mystery bottle.
As they start pouring them off stage, I thought the night was just about over as my search and rescue funds were running really low, my brother and I were feeling a little odd as if there was some sort of narcotic like alcohol injected into our veins. It seemed that we were never going to find this mystery woman Clare. We began at that time to say our goodbyes.
Then as if the lighthouse shining through the fog giving us bearings, there she is right up on the stage the Gobshites were just on two hours ago! She was with the Jackdaw guys all night; boy was it worth the wait. They were a great bunch of lads and they even played a song about her that is still stuck in my head. I stayed and said the hell with the search and rescue funds, and drained them rabidly ready to stumble back to the tent, I’m sure we’ll find her again in the morning.
Review by Therover413
Shite'n'Onions 