It's part two of the Whites' Christmas Concert Triple-Header tonight as, minus Mrs White (my good friend John McIlroy is coming with me), I head off to see The Pogues play in Leeds.
This will be about the tenth time I've seen the band live since 1990 when I saw them during my freshers' week in Newcastle.
In that period, they've kicked out their legendary front man Shane MacGowan for drinking too much (it's like turfing out the Pope for praying), replaced him with the now late Joe Strummer and then brought him back (Shane, not Joe - they're musicians, not doctors. Or mediums).
And a very good thing too. To my mind, The Pogues without Shane MacGowan is like an ice cream cone without any ice cream. A bit pointless, really.
And there's been another major development in Pogueland in recent times; Shane has bought some new teeth.
Aside from his drinking, his dodgy teeth were obviously what Shane MacGowan was best known for. But even he must've got fed up with the predictable jokes and got them upgraded. He's still no George Michael, though, you have to say.
Should be another good night.
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