At the back of my house there is a room that contains all my music stuff and the 'puter. Currently it has a drum kit in it.

I'm in the enviable position of being able to play the kit for maybe an hour or so a day without irritating anybody (neighbour-wise), but often I find myself wanting to play for longer and thus I need to dampen the drums/cymbals.

For dampening I use some old t-shirts, apart from on the hihats where I use 2 pairs of UNUSED red and black striped Dennis the Menis pants (for 10 year-olds) given to my 2 year-old son by a slightly loopy chum.

Anyway.

Yesterday one of my daughter's friends came over to play, and she and Beth (daughter) asked if they could play the drums for a bit.

I agreed.

Next thing I hear is the Beth's friend shreiking with alarm due to the discovery of 'Beth's dad's pants on the drums'.

She's probably scarred for life.

Well, I guess it will be sort of exciting to see your face in the News of the Screws. We'll try to smuggle you in some special Nat Sherman Ovals.

I still cannot get over the dream I had last night. I dreamt that Joe Pesci called me and we chatted like we were old friends. I went on and on about how I loved him in "Casino" and we discussed the writer's strike. Then he said, "I'll see you later" and we hung up.

tmidgett wrote:

tommydski wrote:I was just on the phone for fifteen minutes with a guy at the London office of one of our partners called Richard Move.

I was actually biting my tongue.

That is classic.

Was a guy, contract worker, at my old job named Richard Siemens.

I mean, really.

There's a thread somewhere on here about all the absurd names and mispronunciations at my old job.

The woman on the PA was pretty lame.

Burr Furburr (Burt Farber? Brett Favre? Burnt Furburger? Never figured that one out.)

Don Overtone (actually Overton)

Weeping Wang (Weiping, lady, it's Weiping)

Yang Tang (well, that was her name. Yang Tang.)

The best was Burning Itch (Bernie Knych, who was my boss. Suffocating silent laughter.)

Mahkolehg Jouz-Fauwtedd and Levdah Roumda Bawsted?

Whilst making dinner, I had to move the washing up gloves out of the sink, but before I did, I noticed one of them was flipping me off. Nice.

I found myself alone at a table last night with Curtis Crowe, the drummer from Pylon, and Hugo Burnham, the drummer from Gang of Four. We ate sushi and they talked about touring, bands from back in the day, what their respective reunion tours have been like and how nice it is that their kids love their bands.

Two of my drumming heroes, both having a drink and a lovely meal, and then we were off to the Pylon show, where Hugo djed and Curtis played a blazing set. Last night's show was the longest Pylon show I've seen yet. The crowd was fantastic, and it was just a lovely night all around.

When we finally (reluctantly) staggered out of the 40 Watt, I said "At the risk of being the cheesy guy who pulls everyone out of the moment by loudly announcing 'THIS IS AWESOME,' I just want to say: THIS IS AWESOME."

i shaved my head again. in the winter again. fucking idiot again.

also, band practice in an unheated storage facility again.

where's my hat?

that damned fly wrote:i shaved my head again.

I just got my haircut from the Sicilian instead of the Russian.

My haircut is appropriate for the following:

a) Defensive Coordinator / University of Alabama Crimson Tide circa 1964

b) Plaquemines Parish Chief Deputy

c) Gunnery Sergeant / Camp Lejuene, North Carolina

vockins wrote:

that damned fly wrote:i shaved my head again.

I just got my haircut from the Sicilian instead of the Russian.

My haircut is appropriate for the following:

a) Defensive Coordinator / University of Alabama Crimson Tide circa 1964

b) Plaquemines Parish Chief Deputy

c) Gunnery Sergeant / Camp Lejuene, North Carolina

ROLL WITH THAT.

Sounds excellent. You need the unlit stub of a cigar to dangle out of the corner of your mouth and you need to work on your piercing one-eyed-squint.

i just had deja vu reading the last two posts.

my brain hemispheres must be arguing.