You’ll be Obligatory Sarcastic Sidekick to the AFIC Globey-baby!
Twisty, I dunno know about you being a groupie…I know these wimmins…and you’re like a brother to me. Might bring up icky feelings if I know the way you’ll be used and abused for their pleasure, over and over again. I’ll have to think about this.
Mags, just thinking ahead to the sophomore album slump…you know, some gang o’ bimbos will come around and try and take over our turf and I figure a few public cat-fights 'tween me & you would get us back on page 1.
That or Twisty could impregnate several of our back-up singers.
See, this kind of forward thinking is why I get to be Alpha Female.
And don’t worry about the lack of nookie-tales, I haven’t got any to share myself, it being 4.30 pm and me being sober and all. Check this thread sometime after 11 tonight…
I call dibs on the drums! I can just imagine it now, I’ll be sitting there, hammering away like crazy, drops of sweat rolling down between my breast… I can’t play the drums yet, but I’ve enrolled in a crash course over the weekend. It should be okay.
Now, more importantly, who wants to be my head groupie? The high-lights of the job include giving me massage and ordering my other groupies out to buy more beer. And smooches, lots and lots of 'em!
Oh, and tater? When you leave this fine continent, let me be in charge of the Euro Wimmin. I’ll be a fair and loyal leader in your absense.
Coldfire, my guitar is acoustic, but it’s got the electronics so I can plug in. I could play a rockin’ version of The Gambler by Kenny Rogers. Ooh, ooh, and “Let it Be” by the Beatles. Throw in some Simon and Garfunkel and Joplin’s Me and Bobby McGee…
Somehow I see Globetrotter as the Bad-Ass Bass Player. The brooding intellectual member of the group who studied under Lou Reed in the good old days.
Well, I play a nice, nostalgic folk guitar, and I can do a bit of accordion for any novelty-type numbers. I’ve got a fairly strong mid-soprano-thru-alto range, and I blend well with other voices. Since I don’t have any special “moves”, I’d like to claim the pouty, sultry, unattainable role - I’ll just sorta sway introspectively with the rhythm. Of course, that’s just my stage persona. I wants me some well-oiled, scantily clad young studs to help ease the stresses of life on the road.
And I wants me a “Chocolate Boy” at my beck and call - and none of them cheap chocolates, either. I’m talking the good stuff!!
I’d like to be the aging rock journalist who’s actually a groupie but won’t admit it. I’d follow you on tour, thinking I was maintaining a proper distance but realizing somewhere along the way that I’d become an apologist. Then I’d write a band biograpy and maybe become your manager.
Hey! Piano/mandolin/sax/bassoon/recorder player here! All I need to keep myself creative and energetic is a wild orgy every night. That’s not too much to ask, is it?
