DONS is back within these four walls and roof and floor, I have some standards, you know and my initial annoyance was overshadowed by the full story of the attempt to engage him in fisticuffs. The opinion of DONS and the bassist lovely man, smart, very pretty, hung like a donkey but unfortunately gayer than my mother's c.1955 Gay Venture book of stamps is that it was for the best that I wasn't working with them when it happened, as they've seen me deal with wankety fuckmuppets at gigs before and they didn't have anywhere convenient to hide a body they knew I'd go into full on Protect the Innocent Mode.
In keeping with the Fuck this Shit attitude DONS has no doubt learned from me, being four years his senior and an expert in living life mostly fuelled by caffeine and barely suppressed rage, he has now informed wankety fuckmuppet that he has left the band. As the bassist will be doing tomorrow. And the drummer.
This pleases me. Partly because it means the old band we had can reform without wankety fuckmuppet's constant demands on our time and I actually get to play and write music again with people who accept possession of a womb and vagina doesn't automatically render one incapable of operating instruments/equipment or of writing tracks with an absolutely stonking bass riff. The knackered old fat bird will be back on stage soon - hopefully in the Thighland Compound.
I'm thinking of starting the set in complete darkness. Ominous drums thud their message of death and destruction into the night.
A single searchlight slices into the night sky and illuminates the curled underside of the pube carpet as the band descend into the arena. Flames erupt from the sides of the stage. A siren wails its alarum. The stage is adorned with Titty clones with Thigh's small tit lights pinched from the nearest roadworks and beautiful oiled fuckboys (have to keep the bassist's demographic happy as well, you know, we're fully inclusive here) in cages.
We step out into our respective spotlights. Naturally, as the possessor of the Best Tits if not the largest in the Band , I am centre stage. Our adoring public cheer with orgasmic glee. And then we play.
this might be a slight overexaggeration as the more likely outcome is that our first gig back is held in a suburban boozer on the 2nd Thursday of the month when the ukulele club is on holiday
But in my mind, we will be headlining Thighstock.