(no subject)
Hey, I just walked in from a bar. My friend T.C.'s bar, to be exact. A jazz club. It hadn't opened for the night when I left, though it was almost about to. I had just finished helping him and his band practice for the night. I've done this for a while, and took almost as long for T. to convince me to take my vocals out of the shower and into the club at least so the band could practice. Of course he thinks it's a shame I can't be one of his official crooners for the nights, but I say he has plenty of good, professional jazz singers to rely on. He doesn't need a writer.
Well, anyway, here I am, in another bar, humming "My Funny Valentine" as I approach Miss Bar to get what I know will be a milkshake. I'm getting used to it. After all, it's not like I can't get drink anywhere else.
[ petit tag: paul varjack ]