You've struck gold there mate, thats what I think, now wheres my t shirt
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You've struck gold there mate, thats what I think, now wheres my t shirt
Back in '96, as one of four 18 year old kids in an awful little band, playing a gig down in Southend, Essex. Playing guitar
It was snowing heavy, some 6-8 inches deep.
After said gig, our frontman decides to start a fight with a dozen or so bricklayers...big guys!
I decided that as much as he pissed me off I couldn't stand to watch him get killed! haha
I manage to diffuse the situation with beer and make out I knew a friend of one of them...Situation diffused.
Instead of being greatful, our frontman decided to fire me on the spot!! Some gratitude I thought.
THis quickly became the least of our worries as we discovered our ride had left without us!!
No money left, or even change for a phonebox. We left the venue thinking in our alcohol induced bravado that a 12 mile walk in the snow was a good idea.
Said frontman also decided to give a train station walls a few kicks in a temper too....causing the snow on the roof to cover him head to foot. Payback is a bitch!! heehee
SO we must've walked 8 miles in the snow. Wearing slashed jeans, vest tops and light weight jackets.....before this other guy fell over and started turning blue!! haha
A passing driver took pity and took us the next 4 miles.
Oh to be 18 and feeling invincible....and also very stupid [img]wink.gif[/img]
yeah, you got it JB. Its electric stuff eh?
Fancy coming out of retirement?
yeah, you got it JB. Its electric stuff eh?
Fancy coming out of retirement?
[QUOTE]Originally posted by IH Rich Rags:
yeah, you got it JB. Its electric stuff eh?
Fancy coming out of retirement?
__________________________________________________
Give me the time and place and I'm there
Rich Rags on tour in Scotland. Myself, Johnny and Paul had enjoyed only partial booze rustling exploits thus far on tour. We were currently the liberators of a case of Crabbies Ginger wine and it was killing us to get pissed on it. Having had our host arrested for drink driving on the way back from the gig. (almost unconcious drunk and his second nicking in 2 weeks) we arrived back at our digs to find the afore mentioned host was currently in the local pig station still with the door keys. Bummer. The majority resigned themselves to a night in the van whilst Me. Paul and JB reckoned it was worth seeing if we could clip the yale on the flat door. After about 15 minutes of trying we were pretty confident it was just matter of the right pressure at the right moment. Our muddlled ginger wino logic resulted in JB being instructed to give the door a decent shoulder barge in unison with ramming the card into the door. Five minutes later we leaned out of the flat window and yelled down to the van dewellers that, much to their disbelief, we had got in with nothing more than a bank card.
However this was a lie we were unable to hide behind for very long. Mostly on account of the front door now looking like western saloon doors. This was mostlty due to the fact that JB interperated the words ' a firm shoulder barge' as 'Take a run up and drop kick the fucking door why don't you?'
The most comical thing about this was that when our deshevelled host arrived back from clinky jB had treid to repair the door with drawing pins and a prit stick.
<font color="#FF0099" size="1">[ December 13, 2005 11:14 AM: Message edited by: IH Rich Rags ]</font>
Skippy your pm box is full, check E mails, cheers pal, I thought I'd done a decent job with that door repair
Not bad two edits for 2 lines, thats afternoon drinking for ya
<font color="#FF0099"><font size="1">[ December 13, 2005 11:54 AM: Message edited by: Johnny B ]</font></font>
<font color="#FF0099" size="1">[ December 13, 2005 11:56 AM: Message edited by: Johnny B ]</font>
In 1983, I shoved our roadies toothbrush up my arse, and didn't give him the video of the event 'til we got home.
You're lucky it wasn't his cock, Hunter made many strange demands of his little helpers!
Yes, the old incriminating video trick. On the same string of dates myself and Jon Stewart were elected as interviewees for the broadcasting senstaion that was Border Rock, on radio borders.
Some bright spark suggested that we video the interview as we would be back in blighty on the night of broadcast and miles away from picking it up. It also meant that Paul & Dave could hear the interview.
A hour or two later, as Jon & I were helping our selves to beer and food in the promotors kichen, a look of total horror decended across our faces. The reason for this was the transistorized whine of our own voices emitting from the TV. Unbeknown to us, the camera had been running in the minutes before the interview and we were currently sat giggling and discussing whether Daves new bird was a post opp tranny and why she had such a deep voice and big hands. I think the phrase that rang out was "She could wank off an elephant with one of those bunches of bananas'
Meanwhile dave was sat in front of the Telly with a room full of people.
Ouch.
<font color="#FF0099"><font size="1">[ December 14, 2005 04:50 AM: Message edited by: IH Rich Rags ]</font></font>
<font color="#FF0099"><font size="1">[ December 14, 2005 04:51 AM: Message edited by: IH Rich Rags ]</font></font>
<font color="#FF0099" size="1">[ December 14, 2005 10:11 AM: Message edited by: IH Rich Rags ]</font>