So Wednesday night was spent in Benoni with The Sunday Punchers. Probably the drunkest punk/folk/rock/irish band I've had the pleasure of watching in a while (since the old Gross Misconduct Days at least). Definitely a band that's full of feeling and passion for music. I respect that. Got there earlyish and in record time, after a relatively traffic free 40 minute mission from Jozi, with Clint and Siane. Shaun was already waiting with beer. Gene wheeling is amp in. A R500 tab for the bands, we raped it, as the rest of the band trickled in. Mostert last, already a six pack down. though he swore he was sober. And we all continued to imbibe (except clint, on a sober driver mission) until the set. After which we hung around for a bit, hunted some weasels, slugged some car bar Scottish Leader. Mostert ended up with a black eye, no-ones really sure how. But that's Benoni for you.
Quinn (Drums), Mike (Guitar) and Matt (Friend)
Mostert decided he needed a prison knife. That poor steak knife never knew what broke it.
Ankia (Violin and Vocals) pregig making sure the pick up is working. Gotto love a girl who knows her equipment.
Quinn, rocking pretty boy Stee's (yep I said Stee's, its infiltrated my vocabulary)
Mike (Guitar) and Gene (Bass)
And Siane (vegetarian holding crocodile sking guitar case)