Russell Brand deserves a slap! Or the people who kept nipping to the bar and forcing themselves past me during the stereophonics gig last night! They werent even giving me the chance to stand up and let them past! The one who bumped my wife in the face as she was halfway out of her seat! Thats the one who will get my wrath with a well placed sharp jab! I must have had to stand up about 40 times in about 2 hours! They must have missed about a quarter of the gig standing at the bar! Dont see the point of going then really!
That's the problem though mate ....... if you only have one punch, how the hell do you decide which one?
'I'm a celebrity get me out of here' starts tonight, and I just know that Billy and Smug will be riveted..
No doubt I'll get neg rep for this but I'd hit the taller one first , smack, right in the ****ing mouth, then the little ****er.
What I don't get is why people have any time for them. They developed a 'cheeky pair of scamps' routine when they were kids that looks a bit pathetic for middle aged men. And the act has never changed, it's one talking drivel off an autocue while the other pulls daft faces
change my mind ... last night I'd to punch the twat who let a set of double doors close on me whilst I was laden with mic stands and a p.a. speaker ...wouldn't mind so much but I waited and held the 1st door open for him and his missus without a thanks you, some people are just born ignorant c****
bit difficult to do when you're carrying a pa system joking aside the last time I thumped someone was during my teens whilst at school ...
Stuart Hall, for making me think you were a broadcasting original, whilst growing up, when all along you were a rampant kiddie fiddler...
This is a bit off topic, although it's a **** thread anyway, but the story might make you laugh, as you're a musician, and everyone else can ignore it as it's quite long. (And no, it's not that old joke, 'what do you call someone who hangs around with musicians?') Anyway, it's the 1980's and I'm working 'stage door', this particular night, at Rock City, Nottingham with another doorman called Scouse who was my regular partner. (Only in the working sense, btw, it was a dangerous place to work so you had to work in 2's in case it really kicked off.) So, we have Ian Gillan playing the main room, 2000 stand up venue sold out, who was the singer in Deep Purple but by now is a solo act with a band. Me and Scouse are at the side of the stage checking back stage passes and stopping the endless stream of chancers, groupies and 'friends of the group' trying to get backstage. It's more of a responsibility than people realise as the groups don't like their 'pre-match' routine interrupted and there are thieves who specifically target group's guitars which are sold for incredibly high prices. Just imagine if we were responsible for the guitars of Oasis, U2, Manics etc going missing We've been backstage and introduced to Gillan, the group and the roadies so we could have a drink, get to know them and lay down a few ground rules etc. Gillan was mint and obviously used to how things work, he took the time to ask our names and invite us to the after-show party, which sadly we couldn't do. We took our positions and the support band came on. Can't remember who it was but we treat them with the same respect as any of the groups we handled. Various people came to the side of the stage asking to be allowed access to the backstage area and we dealt with them courteously and professionally. The people with a genuine reason to be there, but without a pass, would be asked to wait while one of us went to check with a known person as to whether he was trusted or not. All at once a creature, not unlike Boss Hogg from the Dukes of Hazzard. appeared with a white suit, big cigar but no cowboy hat. Without even acknowledging us he barged past towards the dressing rooms. Scouse, who was only there for the money whereas I was there for the music, was outraged and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He dragged him back and asked him the obvious. "I'm Gillan's manager, you're finished, you'll never work in this industry again!" "Pass?" says Scouse. "I don't need to Goddam pass you ****ing imbecile!" "Step into my office", says Scouse, at which point my heart sinks. Scouse's 'office' was the loading bay area where all the speaker cabs were kept prior to the Hells Angels packing and loading the trucks. My habitual role in this pantomime was to open the lid of a speaker cab while Scouse walked the 'vistim' into his 'office'. I really didn't believe he'd do this to the manager of a 'Rock Legend' but, in seconds, he'd bundled the fella into the cabinet while I snapped on the locks. As was the usual practice the bloke was left in there for an hour to 'cool down'. Cooling down was the last thing that would happen as the club was always packed with equipment and 2000 'moshing' bodies. When I eventually persuaded Scouse to open the lid the bloke was dripping with sweat, his white suit was filthy and his straggly long hair was sticking all over his fat bald head. I was sure it would be instant dismissal. "Pass?" said Scouse. "Thanks buddy, I'll go and get one." We never saw the ****er again until about 3am when Gillan introduced him to us. "Hi guys", he said, "You're doing a great job."
That's a sickener Sid, you just can't trust anyone these days ...... and to think I thought 'Jake the Peg' was an innocent children's song
