To enter the rally we had to raise £1k for a charity working in Mongolia. We chose Mercy Corps. And we figured that while we were having a rare stab at this fundraising lark we should make some money for a local cause too: we chose Cornwall Hospice Care, which is woefully under-funded despite doing amazing work in the county.
The plans went something like this:
'How much shall we set as a target?'
'I dunno. Five grand?'
'That's mental.'
'Ok, let's do that.'
The good news is we made it, through loads of generous online donations, and a few ridiculously stupid music and comedy gigs. And a hugely lucrative day at Royal Cornwall with Hawkins Motors, who kindly gave us our car, a 1.2-litre Fiat Punto, for free.
Here's how it all panned out...
1st March 2009
Lo, a chariot descended...
... and she was a Fiat Punto.
After a couple of months of going: 'looks like we may have to walk,' we were finally blessed with a gift from the automotive gods* at the weekend, when we took delivery of a beautiful 1.2-litre Fiat Punto. Poor thing. It really doesn't know what it's in for.
Previous cars have hobbled over the finish line in Mongolia with no tyres left, lumbering out of the desert on battered wheel rims, their bumpers long gone, and their engines sputtering what sounds, to the trained mechanic's ear, like gasps of 'I just need a sit down'.
And that's the cars which made it. The other day we met a couple of girls from last year's race who wrote the car off before they'd left Belgium. If we don't get all the way to Mongolia, we're hoping it's because we've done something really dumb, like blowing the Punto's engine up trying to do ton-twenty down Bodmin dip.
The initial inspection of the motor set up what is bound to be a regular pattern over the coming months: Steve had the bonnet open, and got straight into investigating what bit of the engine was where and how to get to it; meanwhile Jeff decided to test the wheels out, by squatting down by each one and giving them a good manly yank; and I (Dave) stood there going, 'I can't believe it's only got a tape player, how ace is that?'.
Inspection over, we laughed a lot, agreeing that she was the perfect specimen. Trip on.
*By automotive gods we mean Hawkins Motors of St Stephen, which kindly donated the Punto in support of Cornwall Hospice Care.
5th June 2009
Finisterre gear: put to the test
(A note from Jeff)
The first trial of the M-Eddy Merino base layer and jacket supplied by Finisterre at St Agnes, procured on this day from Ernie.
Where: Jeff's pad, Penare, Gorran.
Jeff and Steve are currently jamming to rock (ace) while trying out gear. Our necks are warm as f**k.
Later on: Had a rock, watching Rock (ACDC). F**king nice coat!!!
9th June 2009
Commi-Funk raises £500
Saturday was Commi-Funk night at Biscovey Sports & Social Club - our first fundraising event. It was a beauty, if a bit weird. This is probably not the best place to go into the details of the actual content (especially the Battersea Dogs Home sketch). Suffice to say it was a genuinely good laugh, helped by an ace turn-out of 70-odd people.
First up were Just Add Lib, Dave's improv comedy group from London, performing an off-the-cuff show. That turned out far weirder than it may have done once half the audience got involved.
Jeff managed to get in a shout of 'boner', which was funny. The show ended with a drunk obese woman stumbling in shouting 'Co-op has been bought by Somerfield!' which had everyone pissing themselves and brought the show to a suitably random close.
Things then turned Caterpillar-tastic with Par's DJ Sad Eagle spinning all manner of obscure funk weirdness for everyone to groove to.
Big up to Luke Williams and his mastery of the 'lawnmower'. Then two girls had a fight and someone was sick.
A big thank you to everyone who came out, and we hope you had as much of a laugh as we did. Thanks too to Just Add Lib for travelling 250 miles and essentially paying to perform. They clearly need a new manager.
But they all said the Cornish crew were incredibly friendly and hospitable, which is ideal. One of the performers, Alison, was especially chuffed. She managed to earn lifetime membership at the club just by unleashing a huge barrage of erotic swearing.
Total raised: £500-and-something. And that's not including the 7p we got from leaving a box for small change on the bar.
10th June 2009
Royal Cornwall raises £5.10
I went up Royal Cornwall last week, to generate some cash by tagging on to the Hawkins Motors stand.
Hawkins did quite well out of it all, with the sunny weather and the fact they were peddling caffeine and pasties helping to drive sales. I set up a board telling punters all about the Stenalees Surf Club and our trip to Mongolia, standing next to it proudly waiting for the coins to start bouncing into the bucket. The only question was whether the bucket would be big enough.
Total takings for the day: £5.10.
Bollocks.
Then I had a pasty with Mr Lobb, my old headmaster from Treverbyn School, which made everything all right again. Even if he couldn't be arsed to sponsor us either.
11th June 2009
The Punto is roadworthy
Good news: the Punto has passed her MOT and is now hitting the streets, after several months of sitting intensely still, like a 1.2-litre Italian Buddhist. Expect to have her deep-blue bodywork ruffling your wig and sending a pulse through your underpants soon, the crumbs flying off your pasty as surging power-rock belts from her tape player:
Vrooooooooom!
'Whazzaaaat?'
'I believe that was sex on wheels.'
Here she is looking all sensual against the backdrop of St Austell's clay country. Not that she needs great photography to look good, but we were particularly chuffed with these shots. Thanks to Rob at Global Vista for his skills. He does weddings and all sorts of flash 3D stuff and everything. Use him.
11th June 2009
Commi-Funk II: Take laughs, add groove
We're blogging our faces off today. Computers are not good for you, I've worked that out. But I must grind out a few more words to promote this Saturday - our second fundraiser - Commi-Funk II.
Once again we're fusing the beautiful worlds of comedy and music. First up, we've got Cannonball, Dave's other, easy-on-the-eye London comedy group.
After that it's time to get loose to the sounds of the DJ Barn. Yes he may sound random, but believe us when we say it all follows the most rigorous scheme, all perfectly calculated to get you smiling and grooving. Nowhere else will you hear the Stone Roses' Fools Gold followed by the 'I've got a golden ticket' song from Charlie & the Chocolate Factory. And, depending on how much he's drunk, possibly several times.
Hopefully it'll be a repeat of last week's Commi-Funk night, which was a bit of a classic.
And it's happening at Sticker Football Club, which in itself is ace. Sat 13 June. There's real ale, plenty of Rattler, and even sweets.
Directions: Get to Sticker, take the road up by the Londis towards St Stephen, then follow the signs (it's only up the road). Doors at 7pm, starts at 8pm. It's proving hard to explain these shows to the uninitiated - it's easier just to turn up and trust that it'll be brilliant. Which it will. Cometh.
15th June 2009
Cannonball: Another ace night
Right on. Another fundraiser has come and gone and been entirely ace. We packed out Sticker Football Club's new bar with a load of idiots, and shoved a load of people from London in front of them to pratt about. Who are these people? Only London's bloody Cannonball.
Hang on, just got to put the coffee on. I'll write this properly and brighten the images up later.
Yes, that will definitely happen.
Oh, and together we raised somewhere in the region of £300. Thanks to everyone for coming down and getting into it; to DJ Barn for spinning his trademark blend of aceness; and to Cannonball and Steve the Director for travelling down, at their own expense, and doing funny stuff.
27th June 2009
Boosted by pedal power
How ace are people? First everyone has been really generous with their sponsorship, and attending all our gigs and stuff. Now comes a load of dudes cycling from London (the Smoke) to London Apprentice (a Cornish village consisting of a road and a pasty shop) to raise yet more moolah for Cornwall Hospice Care.
That's miles.
The best bit is they're adding the money they raise to our total, via our Justgiving page, leading to one big juicy number that makes us look even more successful. Brilliant.
Inside those tight lycra shorts will be the gristly legs of Fryer, Freeman, Hauck x 2, Luke, Faller, Hughes, Smith and Acworth. They'll be cycling from London to Cornwall from 5 July to 11 July, so dig out your Grifter and go give them your support.
Then it's the welcome barbeque down Fryer's house in Lower Sticker on the 11th, so head there and get tanked up ready for the evening - our send off gig up Biscovey.
14th July 2009
Biscovey gig: take weird, turn it up loud
Sorry team - I haven't updated this for ages, which is rubbish. But the sheer random majesty of Saturday night has driven me back to the keyboard to get all excited again. Thanks so much to everyone who came out for the gig night at Biscovey - you managed to raise around £1,200 for Cornwall Hospice Care.
That is properly ace. Even if, as we learnt the other day, that's only just enough money to buy the hospice about half a matress, it's an amazing amount considering we're all just a bunch of idiots out on a sesh. And it does buy half a mattress some poor sod wouldn't have had otherwise.
The highlights? I have no idea, I was too busy being in pretty much every band.
But here's a vague run-down:
First up, The Marc Almond Stomach Pump Project, who had the crowd cowering behind the first pints of the night with their leotard-clad, self-abuse-inspired covers of classic rock. M Waller+Dan+lyrca. Yes.
Then Ben and Frasier (aka Two Actual Musicians) instilled a rare sense of sanity to the night with an accoustic set that involved Actually Being Able To Play Their Instruments. Their accoustic rewanking of Michael Jackson's Smooth Criminal was something to really grab your nuts and go EEEEE-Hee over. Yes.
Up next: Moore family favourites Bugle, performing tracks from parts one and two of their epic prog-rock trilogy about the life of Merc Mer, the boy who yearns for adventure and ends up doing a Nutkins and living with the fish. Special mention goes to Hal, who played his keyboard superbly considering just before the gig he was still as white as Michael Jackson and shivering like a dying mule from the effects of the previous night's booze. Yes.
The night started getting properly weird with the Guerner-led Massive Menstrual Bird. Guerner had the crowd eating out of his hoof-hand with a stage presence like no other - in a frilly blue shirt, lederhosen and clown shoes. And then he busted out the gimp mask.
The King of Pop is dead. Long live the King of Pop. Yes.
Then came the moment three people had been waiting for - our very own Stenalees Surf Club, a band formed specifically for the Rally, performing a sneak preview of the folk-funk we'll be dropping all the way from Goodwood to God Knows Where. Everything went unbelievably well from our point of view, from the opening chords of Psycho Killer to the prolonged De La Soul dance-off. And thanks to your grooving, we're now bang on for taking on the bear-pits of Kazakhstan. Next gigs: Goodwood racetrack on Saturday, Dortmund Sunday. Yes.
Just when everyone thought it couldn't get any better, it very nearly didn't, when the Massive Firefox returned to the stage after a ridiculous absence with very little idea of anything, having just downed way too much zambucca. Rumours of Scott leaving the band and being replaced by a chair proved unfounded. The Fox lulled the crowd, and themselves, into believing they didn't know what was going on, then proceeded to tear that metaphorical shit up, in a 'pets at home'-themed-t-shirt throwdown. I only caught one lyric - Scott urging the crowd to 'make love to a rusty ladder'. Odd. Definitely. Yes.
And then, when it looked like the crowd couldn't possibly rock any more - BANG! - along came Post-Menstrual Tension to reignite the flame, like an altruistic masseuse visiting an old people's home to dish out a few happy enders. The Band That Started It All blew the roof off with classics like Men and We Like It, I'm A Duck, Waller's Horn and King Beast - the latter dedicated to drummer Dobber, his huge nose, his massive nads and the fact he hadn't touched the drums for three-and-a-half years. Yes yes yes.
Other news - we drew the raffle that night, and the £100 beef box top prize was won by Sam Smith. A vegetarian. Brilliant. Rich Greet won the facial pack. Again, brilliant. I dunno who won the jigsaw.
We also did the draw for the naming of the car, which was won by my cousin Mez, with the name Sleaze (I can't remember how she spelt it - I were drunk - but it was an abbreviation of Stenalees). The Sleaze sticker will be on the car tomorrow. I should point out here that I was also quite taken with the name Mr Wazzboobleyoid, which I have taken the executive decision to include on the car. Sorry for the borderline fraudulence of such arbitrary choices, but it is all for charity, and I promise it has nothing to do with the hours of lapdance I'm told I later received from the people who thought it up.
Low-light: I went back the next day and discovered some c**t had keyed the Punto all down its right-hand side. Bastard. But, as the sleazy Mr Wazzboobleyoid says, Dunt Wurry Boud It.
Tomorrow I'll upload some shots of the car in all its rally glory. Final stickers go on then, so anyone who bought into our '£15 for your face on the car' scam, I mean scheme, will be able to see themselves then. And then we're off on Friday.
Rock on.
