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I was playing guitar with this Classic Rock band and there was a gig I couldn't do due to another booking with a different band. Anyway, I called in a guy who just moved to town that seemed cool and hooked him up with that gig. He was a much better guitar player than me, and in the back of my mind I was thinking he may be a better fit, and they may replace me. So, he does the gig and it all goes well. I get an e-mail from the BL that he wanted to stop by and talk to me.
Turns out the other guitarist was a Soviet Spy, and had slept with both of our wives, and three of our dogs. The BL and I hatched an elaborate plan to turn him into a bowl of Petunias, involving Sharks, Monster Trucks, and a lot of excessive flatulence. First, we had to have a weeklong date with these twelve nurses.
After leaving all twelve with a satisfied smile on their faces, we began loading in the explosives. The BL and I blew up six buildings, and a mailbox belonging to a Nazi that was on the run from Simon Weisenthal. Weisenthal ended up coming to a number of our shows, and because of him, we got a job catering Bar Mitzvahs in Nevada. And that was where I met Chris Squire, who taught me a little known secret for playing bass that involved hypnosis, and a lot of Picante sauce.
(continued on page 7)
Good post, but kind of boring.
Why not embellish the story?
I was playing guitar with this Classic Rock band and there was a gig I couldn't do due to another booking with a different band. Anyway, I called in a guy who just moved to town that seemed cool and hooked him up with that gig. He was a much better guitar player than me, and in the back of my mind I was thinking he may be a better fit, and they may replace me. So, he does the gig and it all goes well. I get an e-mail from the BL that he wanted to stop by and talk to me.
Turns out the other guitarist was a Soviet Spy, and had slept with both of our wives, and three of our dogs. The BL and I hatched an elaborate plan to turn him into a bowl of Petunias, involving Sharks, Monster Trucks, and a lot of excessive flatulence. First, we had to have a weeklong date with these twelve nurses.
After leaving all twelve with a satisfied smile on their faces, we began loading in the explosives. The BL and I blew up six buildings, and a mailbox belonging to a Nazi that was on the run from Simon Weisenthal. Weisenthal ended up coming to a number of our shows, and because of him, we got a job catering Bar Mitzvahs in Nevada. And that was where I met Chris Squire, who taught me a little known secret for playing bass that involved hypnosis, and a lot of Picante sauce.
(continued on page 7)
You sir may have a slight lean towards having individualistic thoughts, and potentially a slight warp in your sense of humor. I applaud you.
Good post, but kind of boring.
Why not embellish the story?
We let a singer sit in two years ago. He's a friend of the drummer and since the upcoming gig was in their hometown and all their friends would be there, we had no problems doing just one song with him. We agreed on U2s "With or Without You" as this was his favorite song.
He totally tanked in an awesomely hilarious way. Bum notes all over the place. He was so embarrassed that he never asked to sit in again.
Good post, but kind of boring.
Why not embellish the story?
I was playing guitar with this Classic Rock band and there was a gig I couldn't do due to another booking with a different band. Anyway, I called in a guy who just moved to town that seemed cool and hooked him up with that gig. He was a much better guitar player than me, and in the back of my mind I was thinking he may be a better fit, and they may replace me. So, he does the gig and it all goes well. I get an e-mail from the BL that he wanted to stop by and talk to me.
Turns out the other guitarist was a Soviet Spy, and had slept with both of our wives, and three of our dogs. The BL and I hatched an elaborate plan to turn him into a bowl of Petunias, involving Sharks, Monster Trucks, and a lot of excessive flatulence. First, we had to have a weeklong date with these twelve nurses.
After leaving all twelve with a satisfied smile on their faces, we began loading in the explosives. The BL and I blew up six buildings, and a mailbox belonging to a Nazi that was on the run from Simon Weisenthal. Weisenthal ended up coming to a number of our shows, and because of him, we got a job catering Bar Mitzvahs in Nevada. And that was where I met Chris Squire, who taught me a little known secret for playing bass that involved hypnosis, and a lot of Picante sauce.
(continued on page 7)
This is your one big chance, and you have to knock it out of the park.
It's ragequit time.
I would always, always, always be cordial and welcoming to any past band member of any band I was in until circumstances dictated otherwise by that individuals behavior towards me.
