Cheap Sunglasses - this is what I had in my pocket as I went out the door last night ... then I put them down, and said, "Hey - I don't need these specs, I'm gonna have a nice relaxing evening, and get home early. It's dark out and I just don't need 'em, won't until tomorrow ..." And then, as you might guess, I woke up on the other side of town, next day blues, stepped out into the blaring sunshine, squinting, thinking, "Damn! Why didn't I bring those sunglasses?!" And the thing is, I KNEW I would need them. I was kidding myself that I would get home early and not need those cool lenses. Foolish!
Cheap Sunglasses - also a cool song by ZZ Top, written some time in the stone age before we were born. Those guys had cool beards ... Peace, -Todd
Last night I was the tambourine man, and I have the bruises to prove it. We got the beat! I have a serious tambourine injury today ...
Big blue spot on me leg where I done held the thing, thwapping numerous times in beat with my instrument of choice for the evening, the Tambourine. Bigg beat, clappety-clappety. It was a beautiful tambourine, a fascinating tambourine, a clean tambourine, a pristine tambourine. I was the spastic orgasmic tambourine man, with a passion that is only out-done by a COWBELL. But man, that tambourine hurt! (After hours of banging.)
I wanna thank everyone who participated in last night's spontaneous jam, the bookstore turned session studio, the cool lookers-on with wine in their hand, the afterparty bar who kept their doors open afterhours for us, the cops who came in and "shushed" us, reminding us that there are limits (I disagree), and man that ladycop was stiff as a board ("Do you put starch in that shirt, or what??") who I blew a kiss to on her way out, wanna thank the guy from Seattle who strummed the guitar wildly and made up verses to old classics like something about Sting having sex for hours on end just because he has 5 penises (!) and I wanna thank the guy with the Buddy Holly glasses who jumped in and played some wicked solos, and that was the STRANGEST version of Ruby Tuesday ever! as I scatted all over that motherfucker, yeah, and the man known as Bald Andy (pre-maturely) who petered out, fell asleep in the THIRD bar (ok, I guess the point is that it was after all the third bar, and it WAS 6 am) where we also played numerous numbers and songs in fact, man how I crooned, and also the gal from NYC who called me "handsome" and furthermore when I got home at exactly 6:38 AM I wanna thank my polite neighbours (who almost complained) as I was making jolly noise coming in and they were going to work ...
Hey - I'm just doin' my job, too.
Enjoyed singing with all you guys last night. Peace, -Todd
Hi all. Once upon a time a played a few gigs with a drummer named Brian, who was dumber than a box of rocks, and he had a girlfriend named Shannon, and they used to get drunk with much whiskey and they'd scream at each other, "You're a bitch!" "You're an asshole!" and it went on and on, but that really has NOTHING to do with this story ...
Today I was having breakfast with two beautiful dancers (yum-yum, will explain later ...) when the letterbox on me door went flappedy-flap and a nice big letter popped through it. I had no idea from which country it came, what with all the strange stamps and assorted stickers and stuff on it. Postmarked from SHANNON. It was from Ireland! From the Wiseguys with ties! (see previous tale, "3 Guys With Ties and a Wiseguy") What strange scribblings they did send ... But enough carrying on about sexxxygirls, lads! Now I know that those guys are TOTALLY INSANE ... but thanks for yer (burp) out-there comments boys! Luck o' the Irish, indeed! Peace. -Todd
PS - we STILL need more cowbell ...
Cookin' up a December tour, fully enscoped in gig-planning fever, and writing new music. Send in them funky ideas, folks! My great plan is to bring the Fretless King on bass guitar, we'll call him "Banana" ahem yes, a sexual innuendo (sorry, mom!) and a great saxophone player named Nookie, and we'll even have a drummer, and we gonna rock all 'round the clock in Europe. (See dates above, mo soon!) Yours Truly on vocals and rip-roarin' electric guitar !!! We shall put tha boogie in yo feet. Indeed. Get up, get down. Peace, -Todd
Hi there. This is the bewitching a-lurement of words that will confince YOU (the perfect roadie, you know who you are) to join us on a tour of Europe in December. Badd-ass, brother. You will be transfixed, you will be amazed (when you look back) that you even THOUGHT about coming, before your firmly said "YES!" The key word here is "firm." Which brings us to your first reason to come: (completely rational) Girls. Yes, there will be sweaty-Betties at your disposal, mambo mamas and horny senoritas! Remember that girl we met on the train last time, who we shall discreetly call, "Fruit Girl?" Oh, yes, this and much more will await you on the sunny frozen shores of Europe. Furthermore, ma man, you told ME that Europe is your dream, (this refers only to YOU, our Roadie-of-Choice, so all other misfit roadies may turn off the computer at this point) so get on it! Why wait? Life's meter's a-tickin' ... Now then ... I could go on and on and probably will and should, but I have to go and play my guitar now, so I'll just rattle off (me head) the short-list of perks/reasons you oughttagotta join us on this Adventure: dancing, new CD's to sell and give away to exotic fans, delicious beer, intellectual discussions far and above the norm of California coffee-house patter, money and train rides, dogs wandering through post offices and restaurants, people smoking EVERYWHERE, flipping the bird to different police in various countries, new friends and sexy undercover endeavors, plus you get to meet all da cool jammin' fellaz from the coolest band (other than The Darkness) in the entire hemisphere !!!!!!! (Also much NUDITY and the possiblility of new outfits.)
Enough of this mumbo-jumbo, just come. Peace. -Todd
Thanks to those cats who asked me and let me get up and jam in that club the other night you know the one and I sang that song you know the one and that sax man was dancin fantastic all over the notes and up and down and shit and I sang my heart out but I still got a heart and the pipes were screamin and the blues were pouring and the beer was flowin and the couple who'll we'll call The London 2 were swooning while I sexed them up with my raspy voice and damn girl it was only 5 am and all was well in the world ... Peace, -Todd
The economy is in great shape, there is an Easter Bunny, there is a Santa Klaus, there is a tooth fairy, JFK was shot by a single gun from the bookstore window, there is a monster in Loch Ness, Pamela Anderson has small boobs, absynth is good for you, and disco rules. Have a nice day ... Peace, -Todd