Your avatar says otherwise.That sounds like me. I think I will pass on the bass, though.
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Your avatar says otherwise.That sounds like me. I think I will pass on the bass, though.
"You think I'm a Replicant, don't you? (silence) Look. It's me with my mother." (Rachael holds out a photo but Deckard ignores it)
"Yeah? You remember when you were six? You and your brother sneaked into an empty building through a basement window. You were gonna play doctor. He showed you his. When it got to be your turn, you chickened and ran. Remember that? Have you ever told anybody that? Your mother? Tyrell? Anybody, uh? You remember the spider that lived in a bush outside your window? Orange body, green legs. You watched her build her web all summer. Then one day there was a big egg in. The egg hatched." (Deckard)
"The egg hatched. And hundreds of baby spiders came out. And they ate her." (Rachael)
It's like a secret code, our own secret language.As the owner of both a Jazz Bass and a beer gut, I get it. Depending on your strap length, the bass would have a tendency to roll forward and rest against the underside of your gut, even so much that the lower bout of the body could end up wedged against your pubic bone. The salad bowl fills the gap and keeps the face of the bass closer to vertical. Of all the things I look for from my bass, pubic bruising is not one.
EDIT: I also propose that "Perhaps some modifications" become a standard TB phrase to describe FUBAR gear.

you sayin' my soul "sleeps wit da fishes"?And I'll be disappointed if nobody sigs my line about pubic bruising. That's the second best thing I've said today, right after describing the music of Lou Reed as "cinderblock shoes for the soul."
I've never owned a blue helmet in my life.Your avatar says otherwise.