Life in the Spotligh, part four

When Gore started yelling we finally woke up. He was walking calmly around the room, smashing pitchers, throwing chairs, kicking mirrors; he was amazing. I have never seen such professional fit throwing in my life! We all retreated to the bathroom and locked ourselves in. After an emergency consultation (and placing a poll on the web), we decided to come out fighting.
We threw open the door and charged out yelling with all our might. Gore glared at us and suddenly we found ourselves retreating again. Al made a pounce in our direction and then Brock whispered, "Why did you wake us up!?"



Encouraged by this, Josh yelled "WE QUIT!! HA! HA! HA! NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?" Gore lunged at us, grabbed us by the back of our necks and dumped us in a pile in the gutter. He then climbed into his tiny green tricycle car and proceeded to putt-putt down the road. 10 minutes and 3 feet later, I saw Al get out of the car, pick it up, and slam it repeatedly against a wall. Then I blacked out.


When I woke up, I was lying on the cement floor of a jail cell. Apparently the Vegas police system thought Josh, Brock and I were just a few wednesday morning drunks. After being released, we were hauled off to the Las Vegas Sanitary Facility, otherwise known as the dump. Soon all three of us had collected a few instruments and we decided to put on a show for those dull Waste Management workers.


This time, Josh had an old ukulele, Brock was on a broken piano, and I had a broom for a mic. Under the circumstances, I thought it sounded pretty good. Some guy started playing this cool beat behind us. It sounded like "beep, beep, beep, beep..." Maybe we should have got the hint, but we didn't, and the truck ran us over.


Now we are all home, separated forever. We decided being around each other gave us all bad luck. So much for my band.

Life in the Spotlight, part three

Now that Christmas is over (well, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas) I will begin to relate my adventures with Al Gore.

Brock, Josh, and I got together for an emergency jam session to try and come up with a song. We had about ten minutes before we were going to be picked up when we decided to forget about the song and pack for the trip to Vegas. A half hour later an electric tricycle showed up in front of my house. That thing was so small! We all tried to get in at the same time with all our luggage, but before any of us even had a leg in, the whole vehicle tipped over on its side. After fifteen minutes of rolling the "car" around the front yard, we decided to leave everything but our carry-ons. Even then we couldn't fit the driver.

We arrived at the airport, jumped on board Gore's 747 and buckled down. After takeoff, Gore gave us a private tour of his Boeing. It was amazing! The plane had a fully loaded game room, a swimming pool, and even a bar. Al Gore also told us the airlimo was equipped with twice the turbines of the average 747 so it could travel faster, the only side effect of this improvement was that it made the plane 15% less efficient than a b-52.

We were in vegas an hour later. Gore forgot to get us food, but what was worse than starving was trying to get to sleep while Brock and Josh whined because they lost the toss and had to sleep on the floor. That king size temperpudic bed sure felt nice though.

When Gore came to get us the next morning, he realized that we did not have our instruments. How were we going to explain this?

Insane Insults #1: Singers

1. "Who needs to visit pier 39 to hear a seal bark when they can just listen to you sing?"

2. "Your voice sounds just like the cat I ran over the other day. Only the cat had the decency to die, whereas you keep on singing!"

3. "The sound of your voice is like the cry of a cougar echoing through a canyon."

4. "You should sing with a pack of dogs. They'd be a great backup chorus."

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.