In which I may have to apologize

Owing to factors including built-up stress, the lateness of the hour we got onstage, the tufted red vinyl-and-velvet walls of the establishment in which we played and a vast quantity of high-grade vodka mixed with grapefruit juice, last night�s gig is a bit of a blur. A happy, red-velvet blur, but a blur all the same. I woke up this morning with Orange Kat sleeping atop my head, and two little Scotties peering over the edge of the bed, encouraging me to give them treats right away. It took me a moment to notice those things, due to a paint-peeling headache induced by the aforementioned high-grade vodka. Filtered-out impurities, my ass. Put my headache in your pipe and smoke it, Absolut of Sweden.

Said high-grade vodka and grapefruit juice, plus the lateness of the hour my band got onstage, led where they always do, which is: Lots of confused, joyful energy and a disturbing tendency on my part to refer to the audience members as �motherfuckers.� I mean it as a term of affection, I do, motherfuckers. See?

As in, �Motherfuckers, I need you up here by the stage, for this next song is about FIRE. That�s right, FIRE, motherfuckers, and I want to see you DANCE. I know you have asses, and I want to see you SHAKE THEM.� And shake, they did. And so did I, skipping merrily out over the monitors to ass-shake with the motherfuckers. Where were you? Why weren�t you there?

I am thinking that the band who invited us to play with them�three very congenial guys with lots of talent and polite handshakes�may not have totally 100% anticipated my level of �dedication, let�s just call it dedication to the cause of rock. And, I would like to add that the other three members of my band comported themselves with their usual decorum. When Sweetheart yelled �Motherfuckers, get on the dance floor!� on the mike, she did it with customary grace.

So, if I need to send out apologies to anyone, now�s your chance to alert me. I have a form letter that allows me to check off the appropriate infraction, so pick which applies, and I�ll get that right out to you:

  1. Yelling

  2. Inappropriate language/questions/subject matter

  3. Broken crockery/glassware/valued hunting trophy

  4. Disparagement of family photos

  5. Spilling

  6. Rambling/slurring

  7. Winking

  8. Unnatural curiosity

  9. Touching

  10. Assertions of your �gayness�

  11. Theft

  12. Lecturing on finer points of the Bob Newhart Show

  13. Rummaging

  14. One from column A, one from column B

Please submit all requests in writing, motherfuckers.



Star of the day. . .ME and my GREATNESS!
posted @ 1:23 p.m. on November 28, 2007 before | after

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She lay awake all night,

zzzzzzzzzzz......