When Eddie Dennis and Mark Andrews fell apart as a team two years ago, it was a shock. When Eddie returned to Progress, with Mark at his side and willing to join in with his scheming, it was a surprise. But maybe all the signs were already there to tell us that these two are drawn to each other, and always have been.
Apparently, we’re back with a vengeance, because it’s 1am when I’m starting this piece, and I’m angry. I try not to be angry a lot; it’s not a good look for me, because at 4’11”, being femme, and using a mobility aid, it’s like that chihuahua on the street yapping at the rottweiler – you know who’s coming off worst if that comes to a fight, and you know, too, that the big dog just doesn’t give a fuck.
ACW at Keeton’s Hall in Bermondsey, south-east London, was the first small show I’d been to, the first village hall show, where the ring skirts don’t meet the floor, and the air conditioning is some fans that appear to be haphazardly stuck to the walls. It was also the first family-friendly show I’d been to, and Emmy and I spent much of the journey trying to think of ways to edit the chants we’d used the weekend before at Progress so we weren’t swearing our heads off every five seconds.