"I think I just had some bad advice. This guy Bill Hoobastank, who was saying he could be my manager, told me I should play my set naked. He also said that since everybody plays guitar, I should play violin. But I can't play violin! People stared at me, that's for sure.
"What was worse, was that Bill, and his stinky little friend Shauna, couldn't stop laughing. They walked out on me, chuckling to themselves!"
"Then the results came in from Kickstarter, showing I'd barely gotten 25% of my goal!
"If I had any creativity, I would've started singing, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to,' but I was just stunned. I couldn't believe I wasn't indulged, AGAIN, by all my FANS and FRIENDS. I was so distracted I missed the violin and started fiddling the bow against my twat. It sounded like a cat puking. I shut off my microphone, and that's when I heard a 70 year-old geezer heckling me.
"He said, 'Look at this sparse crowd. It's worse than when I played Butlins!' It was Barry Gooker, the guy who killed all the nigga children when his Boko Harum group marauded through Africa years ago. Now, they can only play Butlins. And someplace in Finland.
"I was about to tell him off, but I figured he paid something to get in, so he was entitled to free music. I asked what he wanted to hear and he said, "Fisher's Obituary." I didn't know that one. I offered up a song I composed when I was in Canada, "Saska Tune." In Gooker's honor, I tossed in the opening melody from "Whiter Shade of Pale." The crowd called out for less. Gooker's face turned as pink as my shaved cunt, and he raged again about Fisher. Then he shouted "Go fuck yourself" at me.
"Well, give the customer what he wants. I stuck the bow between my legs and after a minute or two, handed it to Gooker, who happily licked it clean. He said, "Reminds me of some roast eel a fan named Robin Verge made for me. He buys all my singles that don't chart." It turned out Gary was brought to my show by my lovely friend from Bristol, Roland. He's another vainglorious egomaniac. He's a spindly school teacher whose face closely resembles an unshaven old twat.
"Unfortunately, I was made horribly aware of this, when he brought out my birthday cake. The egomaniac didn't write anything on the cake, he just had the baker put his picture on it instead!"
"It wasn't the best birthday I ever had, but I promise not to grow up, and that I'll keep right on nagging, showing off, and declaring music should be free as long as people pay for me to make CDs and tour. Do I sound a little crazy? I'm entitled! I'm a Millennial Bitch, and proud of it!!
"I'm going to take a week off because I got diarrhea from eating the cake. I've been shitting on the bus, on the train, in my dressing room, on my cat, and here, here, here and here! (Thanks, Roland!)"
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