The gig that wasn't. But then sort of was.

Four months ago my very old mate Howie came down from Liverpool to see the Decendents. It was a fucking shambles.
This evening he came down from the Pool, and we tried again.
This time, Milo didn't sound like a mortally wounded seal, and we bagged a private tube train by walking to Stockwell.

End transmission.

[LIALC]