"Stupid stories!"

[ashivraj]

 

Originally posted by Six String Stuntman Steve: El Bumpo

 

 

DON'T BELIEVE HIM!

 

take my word for it instead... El Bumpo

 

AS

[ashivraj]

 

Originally posted by Six String Stuntman Steve: El Bumpo

 

 

actually, on second thought... what he said.

 

AS

[Six String Stuntman Steve]

bump again. Must.......save.....thread.

 

-Nigel

[ashivraj]

it was at the bottom of the page!!

 

AS

[ashivraj]

ITS ON PAGE 2

 

PAGE 2

 

BUMP

 

page 1

 

whew!

 

AS

[ashivraj]

page 3 to page 1.

 

here we are. at the top.

 

AS

[Six String Stuntman Steve]

Here's another one about our genius music teacher tommy. You see, before tommy came along, the music teacher was a dude called Kevin J. Oliver...a remarkablee, extremely talented, creative man. He wasn't so much a musician but more of a director and what a superb job he did. Our school had many great shows like Starlight Express and Cats under his direction. He left for Canada to pursue a wider career. He does lotsa stuff like fashion shows. Recently he came back to Dubai to our school to do the show "Saturday Night Fever" where I got to play Travolta!! It was a great show by a great man. And no, I'm not just saying that because he gaveme a part.

 

Anyway, so when tommy first came in, everyone expected him to live up to Oliver's standard which, I guess was a bit unrealistic. Tommy didn't help the situation much. He came in like a hero, I decided that it was time to start playing guitar in school and he took me, abhishek and a few uothers under his wing with promises of studio recordings and music projects and international competitions and the like. It was 3 months before I realized he was full of blank promises and I told him just that. He hated me after that.

 

Back to the story. So the month of April 99 came and modern high beckoned another production. Tommy decided to do Annie, the kiddies musical. It's tradition in The Modern High School always to shine in the music dept. of these shows, with a good band, usually having an outsider or two. The fact is, we don't have musician's in school, and those who do play are the type that go to two lessons and think they've learnt it all. So I said to tommy, I'd love to play the guitar and we'd get a drummer from outside..."NO!! No DRUMMER!!! If this is a school show, evreeyone must be FROM SCHOOL."

 

In the end I got a small acting role, and I didn't go back to him. I don't quite remember what happened but we mimed to a cd in the end.

 

A year later show fever came around again and we chose a Disney production called Newsies. Once again tommy refused to have a band of outsiders. Then the fun started. He started parading around school sayingthat he was working everyday for 5 hours at the studio creating the music. Not bad. then he started parading around flashing the term "Sound Sampling" to all the big people. Not bad, it started to sound interesting. Big talk went around about tommy recording whole orchestral parts in the studio. There was a craze. Suddenly everyone admired him, what was he doing? Then he billed the school for rental of a Korg Triton if i remember correctly. WOW!! Abhi wasn't going to the studio with him so he didn't know what exactly was happening. I however, was the only one who thought something wasn't right. It was around this time that he really used to give me a tough time simply because I didn't buy his Digitech RP1 soundpad from him for the equivalent of a brand new Digitech RP2000 (which I now own).

 

No matter, his fame spread across the school. And in our musically backward society, tommy's "sound sampling" earned him much respect. He would come back and tell us tales of how he would emulate sounds on the keyboard then use them to record complex, massive parts. You had to hand it to the guy....he must've really been working hard.

 

The days of tech rehearsal came. And as i stood there acting my part, lo and behold....the original soundtrack cd played!!

 

But how?? How could this be? Where was tommy's sound sampling? His 3 weeks of 5 hours a day and 10 hours on weekends???

 

Turns out his sound sampling was CD burning. He recorded the original soundtrack cd onto two stereo tracks on the mixer, had it recorded digitally and burned a cd.

 

We didn't have a show the following year, breaking a 12 year tradition.

 

-Nigel

[Guest Anonymous]

Originally posted by MrKnobs:

[What happened next, I was totally unprepared for.

 

The stage right crowd suddenly surged forward and lifted the entire left stack, all at once, subs and all onto the stage. The stagehands had the presence of mind to steady it as it came up. The audience by the right stack saw what had happened and did the same on their side. The entire process took maybe 30 seconds. You could have knocked me over with a feather!

 

I turned up the CD that was playing for a moment and it seemed like both stacks were more or less working. So I told the crowd, "Well, alright then. Please put your hands together for George Strait!"

 

QUOTE]

 

Too cool !!!

[thamayor]

i was working for a friend once a few years ago and we did sound for jody whatley at a small club here. well she came on stage and the first song she bitched (on the mic in front of the audience) about the volume. so we turned it up more than enough. well then her CD (yes not a dat) skipped and she bitched again in front of everyone on stage. well we went to the next song it skipped again aand she said go to the next song well we went to the begining of the song again she she got pissed and said "i cant work like this " , and walked off stage. everybody there started bitching at us. it was looking like it could get REAL ugly REAL quick. so i turned to the people beside us and started explaining to them exactly what happend. she was lip syncing. then after that got spread through the crowd. they started hollering at her. the next morning the radio station that sponsored it said she was banned from ever being played again and they were dawging her. it was wild.

[tarantinos]

Originally posted by MrKnobs I'm gettin' the urge to tell another stupid story. Terry D.

 

Do it, it has been far to long ago.

[MrKnobs]

It's just that I have to read the whole damn thread again to see what I've posted and what I haven't.

Let's see... (notes for myself)

the two lesbians,
*the tour for the mexican mafia,
*the fistfight with the born again guy,
*the chick pulling the train backstage at GS,
*the high speed car chase (shots fired),
*the stolen church fire extinguisher,
*the "party" with "Candy" and "Sandy",
the dude who plays slap bass with his feet,
my singer Julie and the two strippers,
*the "jewelled" flagpole at Dime Box,
*the mirror at Kashim,
Joanna the puker,
Mooning at the radio station,
the soundman's mother,
*standoff in Mexia, TX,
*cop in a box,
*my name is Blanca M.,
*mexican border search,
a little fun with wireless guitar,
Dime Box body slam,
Light guy mixes "Cotton Eye Joe",
See-through dimmer pack,
TV stolen solo by Bill B.,
Kevin plays in the wrong key,
Bathroom boob flasher,
ShowCo transistorized George S.,
Melting w/ the big boys at Silver Wings,
*"Barnell" and the girls,
Scott B. quits over barbecue
"Bad" fuel pump in Brenham
Kicking a dead dog in Industry, TX
*KD
Nick & Herb fistfight over change
Nick's gf enters through the window
Box wrench + hose clamps = tie rod
xHouse of oriental delight
?Trigger on Gene W.'s kick drum
*roaches in the Traynor amp
Fired for being ugly!
*Escape from Matamoros jail


hmmm...

gotta think, surely I have something interesting to post.

Terry D.

[MrKnobs]

Let me tell you about Candy and Sandy, and a hard lesson I learned about myself.

This happened in the mid 80's, when I was in a cover band called O/Z, playing mostly AC/DC, John Cougar, Ted Nugent, etc.. in mostly biker bars across Texas.

One night we were doing a show in Brenham TX, which is an unremarkable town except for two facts: (1) it has a large junior college which provides a ready audience for any rock band passing through, and (2) it's home to some of the friendliest, horniest girls in Texas. Needless to say, our band always looked forward to playing there.

On this particular night, there were two of these lovely young ladies sitting by themselves at a table right in front of the stage. Now it was always an O/Z tradition to engage in interactive play with our young female audience members, usually accomplished by extending our guitar necks down to the point where they could almost touch them, exhorting them to "show us your boobs," and other similar artistic acts. In fact, we did that at each and every show with good results.

For some reason, I decided to make an ass out of myself in a more creative manner and simply stepped out onto their table, ripping some sort of solo with my guitar neck down, and of course exhorting them to show us their boobs. Far from being horrified or leaving, they seemed to be entertained so I took a risk and sat down with them at the end of the number. I flashed the three finger sign to my bandmates, which meant "play three piece without me while I change a string" except that I hadn't broken a string. (We had special songs set aside so that the show could continue if any one of us was momentarily incapacitated). My bandmates glared at me and complied. They were good at glaring, perphaps you remember my bandmate W from the pants fire story.

They seemed quite taken with me, and more than a little inebriated. They scribbled their phone no. for me (roommates) and invited me to a party at their place after the show. Their names, allegedly, were Candy and Sandy.

Now this was what I got into rock'n'roll for! Hot damn!

After the crowd cleared out, I made a little speech to my bandmates. I told 'em I was the guy who always stayed until the load out was complete while someone else always had some urgent matter to attend to. Well, tonight I've got an urgent matter to attend to, and you guys can load it all up without me. OR, you can leave it and I'll pack it in the morning in which case I quit.

In short, I made a compete ass of myself.

Off to see Candy and Sandy, exciting studly rock star that I imagined myself to be.

Arriving at their pad, I was surprised to find no party in progress. In fact, even Candy, the primary object of my lust was nowhere to be seen. Sandy was sitting alone on the couch in their sparsely furnished old house. I've always thought when life gives you lemons, make lemonade, so I promptly set to chatting Sandy up.

Several times in the conversation, I asked where Candy had made off to. Sandy was discreet, but behind a closed door the gentleman who, unknown to me, was at that time in bed with Candy heard my words and became upset. A few muted angry words were exchanged between the two of them and suddenly he burst forth with his shirt half on and pulling his pants up, still yelling at Candy. I thought he was going to kick my ass on the spot but he was intent only on getting out the door.

I followed him out onto the porch only to find him still half undressed and sparking up a doob. I started to explain that I'd only heard about a party, I didn't... I wouldn't... etc... He said, and I quote, "No man, it's not you, it's these bitches." We shared a couple of drags off the joint and he left.

Now comes the part I will remember for the rest of my life.

I went back inside and resumed trying to pick up Sandy. After a while, I realized Candy was calling me from her bedroom. Like an idiot, I went in there to see what she wanted. She was totally naked, except for the sheet which she wasn't being very careful about. She asked me to rub her neck, and I could do nothing but comply. Suddenly, she pulled me down and her intent was obvious.

Believe it or not, here's what I said: "Now hold on, I don't know what's going on here, but I didn't come over to cause any trouble for anyone. I just thought you were cute when I met you at the bar, and was hoping to talk with you some more. Then, maybe, if we hit it off, we could have dinner or something later."

She stared at me in shock for a millisecond, then pushed me away roughly. She looked me straight in the eyes and said, "What are you? Some kind of f#@*ing nice guy? You better just get the f%$# out of here!"

I felt like I was hit with a pole axe. I just turned and walked out without a word, right past Sandy, got in my truck and drove back to College Station where the band kept our stuff in a storage locker. My bandmates were still there unloading and they had great sport at my expense. "Hey Stud! What happened? Struck out? Already done? etc... etc.."

My dick was in the dirt. I was depressed for at least a month. Here I was, a nice guy (I can still hear her saying that which such contempt), pretending to be some sort of low rent rock star, and fooling nobody but myself. What a loser idiot.

I'll remember that lesson as long as I live. Now, I'm just myself no matter what. I don't need the three A's (attention, affirmation, and affection) from people who don't like me as I am. There are plenty of people who will. Yeah!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put on my makeup and spandex to get ready for my show tonight. Wouldn't want to disappoint the ladies.

Terry D.

P. S. I promise I'll tell a more uplifting story next time.

$$$TDI$$$

[IsildursBane]

>P. S. I promise I'll tell a more uplifting story next time.

yeah, dude, I want to hear about the mexican mafia. :-)

-Dan.

[Garry Vogel]

Way back in the 80`s metal days (circa Shout At The Devil), my old band snared a weekend at a local seedy metal club. Our last song of the third set was "Take Me To The Top" by Motley (SHeesh, what a lame song-- I had to teach the other guitarist Jim how to play the unison solo even...).

A few days prior, we had tested our concussion mortar outside at the singer`s house (he had a cop for a next-door neighbor, and after clearing the potential noise issue with him, he witnessed the boom with glee...).

For those unfamiliar, a concussion mortar is a big steel tube with a heavy base that you fill with smokeless powder, and set off with model-rocket igniters. A standard load is two capfulls of powder.

We set it off outside on the trial run, and DAMN! is it loud! If it wasn`t for the next door cop alerting dispatch, we would have had a visit from the authorities.

On Friday nite after the second set, I asked the bandmembers if anyone had loaded the mortar. No one had, so I filled it with a couple capfulls, and thought, "heck, let`s make it a good one," and put in another for good measure. Went to the bar for an intoxicant or five, meanwhile our "stage manager" (just a friend of the band who liked to hang and scam groupies) hadn`t heard my previous inquiry and loaded the tube with another normal dose, and also thought, "what the hell, let`s rock the house," and added another couple capfuls. He goes outside to smoke something, meanwhile our singer just gets back inside the club from a parking lot BJ from some skank, and he decides to load the sucker. He puts in a couple capfuls, and notices there`s just a little left, so he empties the rest into the mortar (keep in mind how dark it is with the stage lights off...).

So now there is OVER *6* TIMES the normal load in the sucker!

Fast forward to the end of the set, we hit the last chord as I was as far away from the mortar, which is planted dead center in front of our drum riser (made of 3/4" plywood, four feet tall to simulate "big band" status), as was possible.

BOOOOOM!

...Tom, our singer is blown off the stage all the way onto the first center table, knocking over drinks and pitchers, landing on top of two overweight leather sluts

...the drumriser (3/4" plywood, mind you) cracks and blows backward, toppling our drummer and his Peart-sized kit and ripping the front bass drum head

...Glasses get knocked off of tables in the back row

...Geno our bassist gets blown sideways into his towering bass rig, the amp head falls on his head

...Decades of filth, dust, dead roaches and other insects are blown off the ceiling and rafters, covering all the tables with disgusting debris, including a couple dead rats

...all woofers on the PA, along with the horn compression drivers are blown out

...I couldn`t hear anything but ringing in my ears for a couple days

...JT the bouncer runs into the room from the front door, sees the debris, and laughs his ass off, saying that "I`ve worked here for four years and that`s the LOUDEST thing I ever heard!"

I have heard that the Smothers Brothers incident with The Who (depicted in The Kids Are Allright) was caused bythe same misunderstanding.

Anyway, we decided to stick with strictly visual pyro from then on.

[grimaila]

As MrKnobs mentioned, in the early 80's I did pyro (as well as some stage monitor mixing) for a seven piece country band he was doing FOH for. This band also did a number of rock covers that occasionally called for air burst sparkles, concussion pods, and the ever popular smokeless shotgun powder stage flare tube (Ahh... the stuff that a pyromaniac lives for ). One night at the Knights of Columbus hall in Rockdale, TX, I had to leave the show after the first break as I had a nasty touch of the flu. Anyways, the parttime vocalist/3rd guitarist Ronnie Joe (fitting for a county band, eh?) decided he would handle the pyro for the remainer of the show in my absence (Big mistake). Although the ceiling in this place was fairly high (maybe 14 feet from the floor to ceiling tiles), the stage was elevated approximately 4 feet. Normally we would fill the flare tubes with about two ashtrays full (neat measuring tools readily available at all gigs) of BullsEye smokeless shotgun powder and it would shoot flames about 6-7 feet high. Ronnie Joe thought that if two ashtrays were cool, three would be even better, and four would be simply awesome. I really wish I could have seen the scene later that evening as he ignited the pods and a ball of flame shot from the stage to the ceiling and totally nuked the ceiling tiles. Needless to say, that was the last time pyro was allowed in that venue.

MikeG

[Six String Stuntman Steve]

Originally posted by MrKnobs I promise I'll tell a more uplifting story next time.

Judging from Candy and Sandy...is that supposed to be some sort of dirty pun??

Grimaila...good stuff......Garry...holy {censored}...that had me rolling off my seat!!

MrKnobs...keep em coming...they sound pretty interesting.

-Nigel

[Six String Stuntman Steve]

Ok this one isn't really centered around music...it's more on the lines of MrKnobs' Candy and Sandy.

So about 1 and a half years ago our school was to hold its annual "Creative Festival" to mark its bday. So for the opening ceremony we had a to present a big choir song. I can't quite remember which one it was though. I think it was Celine Dion's Because you loved me. So we had to go everyday for practice and Abhishek and I were handling bass and guitar with tommy on the piano. there was a choir of about 25 girls and 20 boys.

Now Abhishek being the ladies man that he (thinks he) is....used to get around spending hours on the phone everyday with almost every girl in school....no age barriers. Now there was this one girl who abhi liked for her "assets" and soon got the idea from his daily discourses at practice and on the phone that she liked him too. Very good. Now seeing that he never did have a girlfriend before that...he was all exited.

We'd go in for practice everyday and he'd make sure he'd position his chair close to her and I'd be not far...it was a pretty small room. So they'd have a great time exchanging smiles and chats and strokes and all that wierd stuff and I'd get on with work....I was 15, still single....didn't bother much either.

Here's where it took a wierd twist.

It turns out she had a massive crush on......ME!! And it was friggin wierd. You see, for a totally inexperienced guy....what was about to happen was pretty "screwy".

So at practices she'd give me looks here and there, try to make eye contact, talk to me before practices, etc. But then she got my number from somewhere and called me up one evening when my folx where out. She had abhi on conference.

So she's like "you should come to my place sometime when my folx are out". I thought, umm ok, we could watch some tv, mebbe grab a bite to eat and that'd be nice. Then abhishek, being the testosterone-laden horny toad that he was (and still is), decided to butt in and say "ok why don't you guys forget all the formalities and just get to the action."

Now you have to remember, at this junction I hadn't even had a first kiss...so I thought...ok, we're gonna have a kiss....umm wow.

No.

She said "Yeah sure, come directly from the creative fest because my folx will be out of town and we'll have THE WHOLE NIGHT together...we can do lotsa stuff."

I dared to venture forth "errr, whaddya mean"
"Don't you know?"
"Err, no"
"Well, we can do it on the sofa or we can use my bed."
"WHAT???"

Then she went on to slowly describe the order in which I should "make my moves", the order in which I should remove her articles of clothing, that I was free to take off my own clothes or she could take them off for me, the way I should work my hand down from her neck to her *ahem* chest down to her belly down to her *ahem* yeah well. Then she said something about giving me an "electric shock" by grabbing little mr. happy then she said I could take it as far as i wanted from there and something about her having to swallow if we didn't have protection.

Take note, abhishek was still on conference...dumbstruck, (probably creamed his pants). And pretty much so was I. Now you see, in my part of the world, at the age of 15, the latter of what I just described is left to the online porn sites.....we read and fantisize but NEVER experience. The girl's gotta like you a hell of a lot to go as far as the "electric shock" and "swallow" at 15.

For the next week I was runnin away and hiding from her. Looking back, it was pretty funny, I was scared {censored}less!! It might've been quite a trip if I'd gone ahead....but alas, twas not to be.....that kinda stuff ain't my trip anyway.

Oh and if you really do want to know the musical reference in this story...errr....well...she kinda liked me because I played guitar and..errrr...i didn't like her all that much because she wasn't much of a singer.


-Nigel

[MrKnobs]

Alright, I'm sorry, I know I started it, but this thread is getting too nasty. Time to get back to music.

This story is part of my Mexican tour adventure, which I may post more of if anyone is interested.

So I'm in Del Rio TX playing guitar for a Freddy Fender / Elvis impersonator, doing a few local shows before the Mexico leg of our tour begins. Our singer (let's call him D, which is actually his name) thinks it would be a good idea to do a quick little showcase at the local high school to promo our show later that night. This guy could sell heaters in hell (he's probably doing that right now) so somehow manages to convince the principal to let us do that in the auditorium. So far, so good.

After our little quick performance, we end up in the parking lot of the high school trying to leave, with a bunch of star-struck kids buzzing around us. D is playing the big man and talking up his alleged rock 'n roll life style, how we have tons of women, drink and smoke too much, and like to trash hotels. He doesn't mention where we're staying, but Del Rio is not a big town and he's given enough clues for the locals to figure out we're at the Holiday Inn.

The show goes great, if you like this cheesy sort of thing. He pretends to suddenly lose his voice, and makes me finish a song. When the audience is amused, he grabs an unlucky introvert out of the audience, puts the Elvis gear on him, pops his shirt open, and makes him sing Blue Suede Shoes. The girls go nuts, and the poor bastid actually thinks they're laughing with him instead of at him. All in all, though, we have a large turnout from the high school and it's a good show.

We escape back to the hotel with a pretty good feeling about the gig.

Unfortunately, our good feeling is short lived as a ton of HS students show up. They want to see how we rock stars are partying, remembering the description D painted on their young impressionable minds. There are now maybe a hundred of them and they are pretty lit up from all the brown bags they're sipping from.

D is the ultimate showman, and he does not like to disappoint. Like it or not, he's on stage again. For his opening act, he ascends to the second level of the hotel, jerks a TV set from one of the rooms, and throws it in the pool! Then, he dives from the balcony after it! The kids go crazy, then help his dripping carcass out of the pool. Anything that's not bolted down immediately follows the TV into the pool. Luckily, it's mostly just pool furniture.

The crowd gathers around him. One big football looking jock is practically worshipping him, his stunning looking girlfriend following suit at his side. D asks him, "Want to know how rock stars can pick up any girl they want?" The dope nods. D picks up his girlfriend under his arm and runs off carrying her. He reaches the corner of the hotel block and decides the joke has gone far enough. Unfortunately, as he turns around to confront the now pissed off jock, the girls head clips the brick wall and gets a nasty gash.

This is too horrible for the big jock, who's IQ is maybe 40. He's angry to the extreme about his girl's injury, but realizes D didn't mean to do it. Still, he has to punch something. He suddenly turns toward a glass fire extinguisher case and punches the glass out with his bare fist!!!

Now two people are bleeding. A few people help them, and someone calls 911. Others grab the fire extinguisher, and still others start breaking open the other extinguisher cases. An extinguisher fight ensues. All hell is breaking loose, and the cops will surely arrive shortly with their nightsticks and their mace.

I decide I've seen enough and lock myself in my room, my '73 gold top literally under the sheets with me, a habit I picked up in Mexico. I turn off the light and pray they will not come for me.

Suddenly, the phone rings. I check for shaving cream (recurring band prank) and answer it without thinking. It's the hotel management. I realize I've slept and it's morning. {censored}, why did I pick up the phone! The manager wants to know what's up with the blood by the pool and if anyone was hurt. I tell him the story you just read, more or less, and that the two cut people weren't seriously hurt, just taken to the ER for stitches.

He tells me, and I kid you not, "I'm glad to hear no one was seriously hurt. Don't worry about the property damage, it's been taken care of. Enjoy the rest of your stay at the hotel."

It's at that moment I begin to suspect who our employer is.

Terry D.

$$$TDJ$$$

[lj4ms]

:)

This is too funny!

[Smokey]

Mr Knobs - That pyro story is funny {censored} !

[dpothecary]

Damn. I've just read the whole thread, and it's now 4 in the morning. Still, what have I got?

The time I was in a battle of the bands against a comedy mariachi band?

That was pretty sweet. At least nothing went wrong, we got to play through a 30k rig, and we won

[MrKnobs]

Originally posted by dpothecary I did go busking one day and people gave me money to shut up...

We've all been there, dude!

At least they gave you money. I dunno if you know who Lyle Lovett is, but I once saw him playing in a Pizza Hut (before he was famous, obviously) and I told him to shut up!

Guess he had the last laugh on that one.

Terry D.

[dpothecary]

Originally posted by MrKnobs We've all been there, dude! At least they gave you money. I dunno if you know who Lyle Lovett is, but I once saw him playing in a Pizza Hut (before he was famous, obviously) and I told him to shut up! Guess he had the last laugh on that one. Terry D.

That's pretty funny.

I was just reading the drunken thread over on OJ, and it reminded me of a story.

it was a saturday about a month ago, and the lead guitarist/singer and I (I do rhythm) in my band are due to be playng an acoustic set n a bar downtown on the monday. His friend is having a party and for a laugh we go round to provide some entertainment.

We arrive, and we aren't playing till much later. So I get stuck into the wine, then the beer, then the vodka, then whatever else I can find, including malt vinegar, or so I'm told

As we get drunker, the idea of a scratch band comes out. As if by magic, somebody produces a bass and a drumkit. By this point I'm having difficulty standing, and I'm now trying to teach two guys, who are similarly wasted, how to play our songs.

Anyway, I decide we're ready, and out we go to find the sound reinforcement system: four 10w practice amps. Not so much of a problem, since the yard was only small. The microphone was however attached to a 3' lead, whch meantme and thesinger were bent double when we were singing.

Luckily I can't remember much of it, but I came out of the party having lost a $25 capo, 15 plectrums, and most of my dignity. About the only thing I can remember was using a beer bottle to play some very "wonky" slide. I felt so cool.

[Peter Denny]

Originally posted by Six String Stuntman Steve OOOUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHH!!!!! Ow Ow Ow OW!!! Oh I'd HATE to be in his place. OWWWWW!!! -Nigel

 

 

At the Rock Candy circa 92. Concrete floors, 5' riser on the stage, sprase crowd. Not empty but no where near packed. Then some guy runs up on the stages and dives head first into an empty floor. Me and my friend Scott heard the crack over the band and were just like Holy {censored} he did not just do that? Well he left in an ambulance. The moral? Watch the booze. Peter

[SomeGuyNamedRob]

Originally posted by MrKnobs I've written several books, thanks, though none about touring. It's way too much work for my lazy bones, though! Time for another stupid story! More stupid pyro tricks.... [snip of bassist's flaming crotch story]

My wife and I found this hysterical. This the best so far, with the flaming confetti a close second.