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11.04.2005 || 02h22 another gig. Well actually, we folkie bassmen don't rumble so much as purr contentedly. Celtic bass just ain't the same tummy-scrambling wall of pound-pound as when I was playing heavy metal on my olde blacke Thunderbird. Back then, if I wasn't disturbing people's intestinal tracts, I wasn't doing my job. These days it's all about nuance and harmony and shizzle. So, in to-night's gig, I got my arm fondled, my cock grabbed, then a breast flashed at me, all by some drunk black chick who I might have found hot if she'd been 20 years younger and not under the influence of drink, drugs and general crassness. Thank the gods she finally left... I was getting tired of the boys laughing at me. Heh... I guess it's kinda funny in retrospect -- just less funny than if I'd clocked her with my bodhrán... Okay. I'm really too bushed to do this whole 'updating' thing right now... Must sleep and dream of my absent love. Not for long: she'll be here for the week-end to-morrow and she'll be home permanently the 23rd of December. Can't wait. |
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shite Climate change and third world X-mas gifts - 11.28.2005 hungry and irritable and almost blown up. - 11.25.2005 ICC and other indefinites - 11.22.2005 registrar madness - 11.15.2005 friday night from hell. - 11.09.2005
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