Show Me The Magic!!! (Part 2) - February 16, 2007
Tripping my brains out, I managed to rip my gaze from the horrified faces of my three also tripping band mates and I looked at the source of their terror... my armpits.
They were the deepest, darkest purple anyone had ever seen. And the purple spread out almost as far as my tit and up onto my shoulder. It was the same on both sides. The purple death virus was spreading!
As we smoked the joint, sick Panama Red I had stolen from my dad's not so secret stash, we calmed down a bit and tried to wrap our minds around this conundrum. We traced the events of the entire day ending with the moment I had found the purple on me.
"We set up for the gig. Dropped the acid. Drank the rum. Smoked some joints. I changed into my outfit backstage and it definitely wasn't there then. We played. I made out with Hope Stillwell..."
Dude - NOTHING says "date bate" like 45-year-old dude trotting out his glory days of yore stories of ballz-out teenage trippery. It is interesting, and no one has every covered that territory before, and the chicks? Oh they will DIG IT. Especially if you were In a Band.
Rock out with your yoga block out.
2 comments:
I dont care what he writes about--it's his blog, obviously. But it makes me sad that it seems like the more Francesca writes about HIM the less he does about her. She is doing all the traveling and all the promising too. And why? because she (rightfully) got furious the first weekend they met after the way he behaved and didnt want to see him anymore? Now, she has to PROVE to him she is "true"? It makes me a little nuts on her behalf.
Don't forget to pull some wonderful stuff from his current entry.
Apparently, he sobs like a baby during "American Idol." It almost made me sick reading about him crying over AI. I think he needs a good psychiatrist.
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