Last night, Scamper played together for the first time since the moustache show. Some highlights:
- Finally, there was actual electricity in the basement. And by "electricity," I of course mean the raw sexual energy in the air between Nate and Keith. It's the juice that makes this little engine known as Scamper run.
- We were a little, as the French say, rusty. We got back into shape by the end of rehearsal, but our first few songs were so bad that we all briefly considered quitting music and becoming alpaca farmers like Pat Badger, former bass player of Extreme. Our deep abiding love for y'all and Mike's allergies tipped the scales toward staying in the music game.
- Keith was nursing a sore throat, so I took over lead vocal duties for a few songs. This became a problem when it was soon discovered that I only know about half the lyrics of our own songs. For the record, apparently "Over and Over" does not say "There was a time before I knew your face, your hands, your voice, your head."
- After rehearsal, the four of us headed to my local neighborhood crappy pub to watch the first half of the Pats game. On the way, as is the custom in my neighborhood, we encountered a band of unruly teenagers, leading to the following fun exchange:
Teenager: (to Nate) Hey, nice sideburns.
[The rest of my band wisely ignores them and keeps walking, but I stupidly stop.]
Me: What did you say?
Teenager: I said you look like a [something indistinguishable]. (They all start laughing.)
Me: Why do you have to bother people while they're walking by?
Teenager: Fuck you. That's why.
He made a salient point. I turned around and walked into the bar and let my inner bullied 12-year old fume for a few hours. To quote my favorite Guitar Center employee: "Life, of course, is terrible."
- Finally, there was actual electricity in the basement. And by "electricity," I of course mean the raw sexual energy in the air between Nate and Keith. It's the juice that makes this little engine known as Scamper run.
- We were a little, as the French say, rusty. We got back into shape by the end of rehearsal, but our first few songs were so bad that we all briefly considered quitting music and becoming alpaca farmers like Pat Badger, former bass player of Extreme. Our deep abiding love for y'all and Mike's allergies tipped the scales toward staying in the music game.
- Keith was nursing a sore throat, so I took over lead vocal duties for a few songs. This became a problem when it was soon discovered that I only know about half the lyrics of our own songs. For the record, apparently "Over and Over" does not say "There was a time before I knew your face, your hands, your voice, your head."
- After rehearsal, the four of us headed to my local neighborhood crappy pub to watch the first half of the Pats game. On the way, as is the custom in my neighborhood, we encountered a band of unruly teenagers, leading to the following fun exchange:
Teenager: (to Nate) Hey, nice sideburns.
[The rest of my band wisely ignores them and keeps walking, but I stupidly stop.]
Me: What did you say?
Teenager: I said you look like a [something indistinguishable]. (They all start laughing.)
Me: Why do you have to bother people while they're walking by?
Teenager: Fuck you. That's why.
He made a salient point. I turned around and walked into the bar and let my inner bullied 12-year old fume for a few hours. To quote my favorite Guitar Center employee: "Life, of course, is terrible."
8 Comments:
I would like to publicly thank my husband for clarifying that the part about raw sexual energy between him and Nate was in fact a joke. Because I was starting to wonder.
There's nothing wrong with a little certainty in this world.
Oh, it's no joke. You only don't see it because you don't want to see it.
What I do see is raw sexual energy between you and every dude that comes within 20 feet radius of you.
According to an article in Forbes Magazine you can make $10,000. per Alpaca and apparently they’re very low maintenance. But much like those teenagers you ran into they’re also mean and smelly.
fuck you. pat's my cousin. he grows the best alpaca in the business. i'll not sit back and have his name besmirched by the likes of you.
No besmirching of the great Pat Badger here. Pat is one of my bass heroes. I have everything Extreme ever did, including some Japanese imports and a tape of some unreleased stuff I got from my bass teacher.
So bite my balls.
why would you want someone, and a man to make it worse, to bite your balls. that would hurt.
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