Sweaty Heavy Metal Rock and Roll Vomit Party Memory

I think the only other thing I have in common with Kurt Cobain is that I was in a band (briefly). A sweaty rock and roll heavy metal one. I was pish at singing. I was really in it for the metal pussy, because there were lots of heavy metal vomit parties.

I remember one in the Four Winds where there were mudwrestling ladies. The whole house was getting down to slippery mudwrestling fun and dope smoking, when a stone came through the front window. I suggested sending the wrestling ladies out to some break legs but the guy throwing the party said that he had to call the cops about it, or his insurance company wouldn’t pay to get the windows fixed. It all sounded very unmetal.

We burnt loads of toast to try to cover the smell of dope and sat in the living room waiting for the peelers. The place was a mess. The mud from the makeshift wrestling arena in the centre of the room had spilled out all over the white carpet. With all the mud plus the roaches and red wine that had been thrown on it, there was nothing you could have done with it but throw it out. Most of us were covered in mud, a few of the guys had black eyes from the mudwrestling. I caught a look at myself in the mirror. I was stoned out of my boat. My face was so pale I could have blended in with the radiators.

‘Hey, it’s the peelers,’ said a stoned guy with black eyes in a stoned drawl, as the door swung open and some cops came walking in.
‘Been making some toast?’ one of them said. He could have said more. It didn’t help that the guy who just spoke gave the peeler a stoned in-on-it grin.
The guy who owned the house was sweating like a horse during sex and making nervous jokes, while trying to take the police out into another room.

‘I’m going to write a song about this,’ I said, half joking, but one of the metal girls gave me such a look, like this was the coolest thing she’d ever heard anyone say, that I started enlarging on it, talking about a riff I had that would suit it and this cool drum break and all that sort of shit. And yes, with the peelers still in the house, I got me some metal pussy.

Balls Job Interview - No 2

So my interview yesterday went total balls. I just about managed to get the wine off my teeth (it was red) and bit the rest off my lips but I could tell by how the interviewers looked at me that they knew rightly. It didn't help that I was really late and had to run so I was breathless and sweating heavily throughout the whole thing.

First they went over what experience I'd had. I lied out my hole saying I'd done this and that for companies which (if they'd asked) had all conveniently went bust (which they didn't) and gave Fabian Wildman and Nanny Boo Boo as references. At the end they asked me to sign a form which said they could check with the dole to see if my employment records were correct. I told them no because I felt it was intrusive. Either they trusted me or they didn't and in this line of work trust was important. They bought this even less and told me if I didn't sign it they couldn't offer me a position.

I told them my principles were more important but really if I signed that sheet they'd find out it was all balls and the dole would think I'd been doing the double.

Not fucking fair