Life in the Spotlight, part two

Two days after our public debut, I got a phone call from Al Gore. The dialogue is recorded below:

Gore: Hello?

Me: Wazzup?

Gore: This is Al Gore here, are you one of those lose-, I mean guys, who played on the street corner the other day?

Me: Yeah. Whaddya want?

Gore: How would you like an all expense paid vacation? All you would have to do is play a song.

Me: You really think we're that good?

Gore: Sorta. You were my very last option. Anyway, you guys would have to come up with an environmentally friendly song. If you do that you can fly with me in my private jet to do a concert.

Me: Do you mean we can’t use our amps and guitar?

Gore: Huh?

Me: Well, you said it had to be environmentally friendly – that means no electricity, right?

Gore: UH…well, anyways, it’s for a series of planet earth concerts, and one of my bands isn’t able to make it. The concert’s in Vegas, and since I did some favors for – err, I mean, since I’m good friends with one of the casino owners, I can probably get you guys some free slot play.

Well, after that last point he made, I had no choice but to go along with the plan. Brock and Josh were – are - major gamblers, as evidenced by the fact that they let me in their band. Anyway, I’ll be in Vegas for a week so I gotta start packing. When I come back, I'll be sure to write about my new adventures and maybe I will post a clip of our new song.

In the meantime…Big Al, the blog is all yours!

Life In The Spotlight

Hello. This is the first episode of a series meant to tell the story of my life to all who are or are not interested in knowing everything about me. For the sake of making you better aquainted with me, I'll start with a little background.

My life really began about three years ago when I decided to start a heavy metal garage band with a couple of my friends. Josh took the drums, Brock grabbed the bass guitar, and I ended up with the electric guitar and lead vocals. We got together for the first time and started making up a song right away. I played a C cord while Josh went crazy and Brock snapped, slapped, and banged on the bass. The vocal part was something like this:

Chorus:
Waaahhhh!
YAAAABAAAAwooooo!
Waaaaaaah! Yaaaaaaaah!
Whooooooo! Wooooooo!

(Repeat)

Verse 1:
Burnt toast!
Wakachakanooo!
Burnt black!
Chikiwaaaaaah!

(Chorus)

Verse 2:
Like a brick!
Wakadoohoooo!
Only black!
Waaahlaaah!

(Bass solo then chorus)

We would then improvise on the spot, a brilliant third verse. Finally, the big day arrived and it was time for our first real gig: a self-arranged performance on the corner of 3^rd and L streets. Yes, that's right, we were playing for tips! We played our only song: "Burnt Toast!" When the third verse came up, I hit it hard, and screamed this:

Now just dust!
Wakaloogyhoo!
It disintegrated!
Wakadoo! Yaaaaah!

When we finished, the crowd went crazy - yells, screams, and all the produce we could eat for the next month! Finally we had gotten the attention of the people of our town. We were on the high road to success.

A Day With The Dentist

The day began just like any other: I got up around 11:30, ate breakfast and took my mid-day nap. After my nap I did something far different than normal: I brushed my teeth. I performed this unusual and strenuous duty because I had an appointment with the dentist at toothurty (2:30) in the afternoon, to take care of my seven cavities. I arrived ten minutes after the appointed time and proceeded to wait and read a dentistry magazine. I saw an explanation on how to conduct a cavity filling and thought I would read it just so I knew what these people were going to do to me. I soon regretted it as the magazine instructed the dentist to perform duties such as stabbing the patient in the cheek with a needle and a toothpick, and other horrendous deeds. I was not relieved when I was called to the operating room and instructed to lie on the wooden table in the center of the chamber. Finally, the dentist entered the room. With an evil grin, he leaned over me, slapping on a pair of stylish latex gloves. He pushed a button and suddenly I was strapped to the table with hundreds of cables. The dentist's assistant walked in carrying a large syringe with a three inch needle at the end. The dentist brandished this formidable weapon before me for what could have been hours, then forced open my mouth and jabbed it into my cheek. I heard a sucking noise and then everything went black. I awoke with a start two or three minutes later to the most agonizing pain I have ever felt, and it was in my mouth. The dentist had stuffed my mouth full of cotton and was now drilling away the inside of my tooth. I screamed, yelled, even snapped a couple of cables. After that the assistant put some expanding cementing stuff in the hole that was drilled and the torture of having my tooth pushed out in lots of different directions had started. The operators repeated the drilling and stuffing for all my six other cavities. When they had finally finished, my voice was gone, I had cuts all over my body from fighting the cables, my entire mouth was bleeding and all I could see was a bunch of stars. On the way out I ran into the wall, a door, and the counter girl. To top it off, on the way home I ran my car into a light post and the back of a semi. When I finally reached my abode, I went straight to bed. This had been a long day.