the executaire
my polish friend luko has gotten quite warmed up the the idea of drinking,
but it seems that i keep getting burned.
what i need is something akin to this:
"The Executaire.
As each musician joined us on stage we would greet him and pour him a glass of his favourite spirit from The Executaire, a 1950s style travel bar which was kindly donated to the cause by Bigrig Industries of San Francisco in 1997, and which we had filled for a stupidly low price with German Brandy, Russian Vodka and Mexican Tequila. "
german brandy, now that i shall have to lay hands on. asbach uralt!
nevertheless, i keep stringing guitars and playing them through the night,
assisted by the wonderful advice of len to sand the neck with 400,
yeah that stuff you wet and do the final touches on your 57 mustang with,
and then going over the frets with a bit of the old in and out motion
with the finest steel wool you can lay hands on. and i did.
if only i hadn't screwed up on the trent resonator and broken two strings,
i could maybe play it tomorrow night for the gig. oh well. there is still time to bike over to the south side. taco loco like hell.
yes, a break from biking up negley might do me well.
(is there a song in there?)
instead i shall have to mount washington.
squeal, yeaugh, squeal like a president.
-mo
and that special shooting star in the midst of the city tonight
has it been mentioned how awfully, really sick i am of arguing with my brother about politics?
but it seems that i keep getting burned.
what i need is something akin to this:
"The Executaire.
As each musician joined us on stage we would greet him and pour him a glass of his favourite spirit from The Executaire, a 1950s style travel bar which was kindly donated to the cause by Bigrig Industries of San Francisco in 1997, and which we had filled for a stupidly low price with German Brandy, Russian Vodka and Mexican Tequila. "
german brandy, now that i shall have to lay hands on. asbach uralt!
nevertheless, i keep stringing guitars and playing them through the night,
assisted by the wonderful advice of len to sand the neck with 400,
yeah that stuff you wet and do the final touches on your 57 mustang with,
and then going over the frets with a bit of the old in and out motion
with the finest steel wool you can lay hands on. and i did.
if only i hadn't screwed up on the trent resonator and broken two strings,
i could maybe play it tomorrow night for the gig. oh well. there is still time to bike over to the south side. taco loco like hell.
yes, a break from biking up negley might do me well.
(is there a song in there?)
instead i shall have to mount washington.
squeal, yeaugh, squeal like a president.
-mo
and that special shooting star in the midst of the city tonight
has it been mentioned how awfully, really sick i am of arguing with my brother about politics?