Slashed Seat Affair - Video shoot, by Ellie. Aged 9

My video shoot blog, by Ellie Mules. Aged 9.

The video shoot was fun - but these things are always unexpectedly knackering! Standing around in 5 inch shoes, my feet died that day. My favourite part was my crowbar action although I do admit, I look rather scared in the first few cuts I've seen! Haha.. I'm not a violent person you know! Plus the fact that the first picture frame I smashed up came flying back at me in pieces only to lodge itself in my head. Luckily, I escaped cuts and bruises though, left those to Noel who clearly didn't read the health and safety mandate before the 'lights, camera, action!' Amateur!

It was strange at first, miming to your own song at 8am in the morning in a deserted warehouse full of mating pigeons. No hope of a glass of wine before 11.00am on a Sunday either to help us get into the flow of things. Sunday trading laws, why, I ask you? They're a bit like those pens in Natwest that are tied to the bloody counter, you know the ones which never work. Bloody useless!

Still, it didn't take us long to warm up - all those years of practising in front of the mirror in my bedroom with a hairbrush, knew it would come in handy one day! We ate like a kings thanks to KT and Phil who bought half their household appliances along to the shoot to cook us endless bacon sandwiches, lashings of beef stew and many other delicacies! Yes children, it was just as Enid Blyton described it.

Haven't we come a long way boys? We haven't seen the finished video yet but I reckon it's going to look pretty cool!

We are getting busy with it too in relation to gigs - are we coming to a town near you? You'd better be there then! And if we're not - let us know and we'll come down and play for you. The tour is about to begin!

Enjoy the rest of August - check out this poem, apt!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)

THE DAY is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.