The Boston Police sure know how to party!!!
Another throwdown at The 6 House in South Boston with all the attendant chaos and beligerence, and the Rustbucket boys are not in jail.
In "Piano Man" Billy Joel sings how "the microphone smells like a beer", but that's because he's a wino, in my case the mic smells like a beer because my lovely friends all think they're the Pips to my Gladys Knight. Why is that alcohol seems to embolden and enliven everyone's inner muse and inspires them to let go of their inhibitions and just simply let it all hang out? Why do people insist on singing songs that they dont know the words to? I mean I do that, but I'm getting paid to do it. What pray tell, is the benefit for you, my inebriated companion? Perhaps I shall never know, at least I hope I dont need to find out.
But Boston's Boys in Blue delivered the coup de grace last night, effectively putting the kaibosh on the final song of the evening. Apparently we were so loud that we were rattling the trough and the boys couldnt eat. Last night wasn't Rustbucket's first run in with the law, however, and I'm beginning to think I ought to take take up criminal justice simply to be able to finish a set.
Now Rustbucket look forward to another intimate evening of music and revery at la casa de Frankie D. I look forward to seeing you all in the near future. And do, dear reader, feel free to register and post to this blog yourself, so that perhaps you may contribute to some of the mindless train of the thought dribble that makes its way to this board from me and my cohorts.
Godspeed.
Rustbucket out sucka!
-Bigz
In "Piano Man" Billy Joel sings how "the microphone smells like a beer", but that's because he's a wino, in my case the mic smells like a beer because my lovely friends all think they're the Pips to my Gladys Knight. Why is that alcohol seems to embolden and enliven everyone's inner muse and inspires them to let go of their inhibitions and just simply let it all hang out? Why do people insist on singing songs that they dont know the words to? I mean I do that, but I'm getting paid to do it. What pray tell, is the benefit for you, my inebriated companion? Perhaps I shall never know, at least I hope I dont need to find out.
But Boston's Boys in Blue delivered the coup de grace last night, effectively putting the kaibosh on the final song of the evening. Apparently we were so loud that we were rattling the trough and the boys couldnt eat. Last night wasn't Rustbucket's first run in with the law, however, and I'm beginning to think I ought to take take up criminal justice simply to be able to finish a set.
Now Rustbucket look forward to another intimate evening of music and revery at la casa de Frankie D. I look forward to seeing you all in the near future. And do, dear reader, feel free to register and post to this blog yourself, so that perhaps you may contribute to some of the mindless train of the thought dribble that makes its way to this board from me and my cohorts.
Godspeed.
Rustbucket out sucka!
-Bigz
posted by Lester Q. Bigz at
9:00 AM
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