Rofl read this story....
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Our lead singer, Dan, was a Drew Carey doppelganger who therefore considered himself quite the ladies' man. Since most shows we played usually featured an audience smaller than the band itself, the prospect of any of us getting together with a groupie was rather small.
But not this fateful night.
Through a random act of the music gods, we found ourselves at the 930 club, opening for Save Ferris and Goldfinger. It was a great show, and we rocked as hard as a band with five brass instruments can rock.
After the show we were standing by the bar, tossing back a few choice beverages. I love me some Tab.
Dan was trying to look tough, carefully sipping his amaretto sour and coughing on a marlboro ultra-light, when a delicate, manicured hand appeared over his shoulder and stroked his ear seductively.
He turned, revealing the hand, attached to a long shapely arm, which was in turn attached to a long shapely young woman who appeareed to possess that most sought-after attribute of ska groupies. Legal age.
"Hi, I'm Veronica!" she said, her hispanic accent turning the V into a B. "You guys played a great set!"
<yadda yadda yadda>
The next morning, most of us are laid out in Dan's living room, still slumbering from the night before. Dan's upstairs in his bedroom with Beronica from the night before.
At about eight in the morning, Dan stumbled down the stairs as I came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee. His forehead was beaded with sweat and his face was the color of mashed turnips.
He seized me by the arms and I barely managed to avoid spilling coffee everywhere.
"Jack, you gotta help me man!" he said through gritted teeth.
"What's up, Dan-o?"
"Dude, my frickin pee-hole is on fire!"
I backed away slowly, not making eye contact.
"Jack, seriously, man! You gotta get me to the hospital or something. I tried to piss this morning and I can't, and my frickin dick is like a holocaust!"
Dan is the only jewish guy I know who refers to everything bad in the world as a holocaust. But I can see he's in pain, so I woke up Big Eric and we drove him to the ER in Eric's Saturn station wagon. What? That's how you roll when you skank, bitch.
We spent long hours with nothing for entertainment but bleeding crackheads and unwed mothers giving birth on the floow of the waiting room.
Finally Dan emerged, pale and shaken. We got in the car without a word and headed home. It was months before we got the story out of him.
Turns out our feisty latina Beronica liked to make the love in a very uncomfortable place which does not happen to be the walk-in coat closet in your Gramma Mabel's nursing home. No, she liked it in the bad place. It was a VERY bad place for our Daniel.
When the doctors finally swabbed Dan out (collective wince from the men-folk), they removed the source of Dan's travails.
A jalapeno seed.
Two months later I quit the ska band and joined the Army. I think life turned out a little safer for me that way.
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source: http://www.ubersite.com/m/58903
___________________________________
Our lead singer, Dan, was a Drew Carey doppelganger who therefore considered himself quite the ladies' man. Since most shows we played usually featured an audience smaller than the band itself, the prospect of any of us getting together with a groupie was rather small.
But not this fateful night.
Through a random act of the music gods, we found ourselves at the 930 club, opening for Save Ferris and Goldfinger. It was a great show, and we rocked as hard as a band with five brass instruments can rock.
After the show we were standing by the bar, tossing back a few choice beverages. I love me some Tab.
Dan was trying to look tough, carefully sipping his amaretto sour and coughing on a marlboro ultra-light, when a delicate, manicured hand appeared over his shoulder and stroked his ear seductively.
He turned, revealing the hand, attached to a long shapely arm, which was in turn attached to a long shapely young woman who appeareed to possess that most sought-after attribute of ska groupies. Legal age.
"Hi, I'm Veronica!" she said, her hispanic accent turning the V into a B. "You guys played a great set!"
<yadda yadda yadda>
The next morning, most of us are laid out in Dan's living room, still slumbering from the night before. Dan's upstairs in his bedroom with Beronica from the night before.
At about eight in the morning, Dan stumbled down the stairs as I came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee. His forehead was beaded with sweat and his face was the color of mashed turnips.
He seized me by the arms and I barely managed to avoid spilling coffee everywhere.
"Jack, you gotta help me man!" he said through gritted teeth.
"What's up, Dan-o?"
"Dude, my frickin pee-hole is on fire!"
I backed away slowly, not making eye contact.
"Jack, seriously, man! You gotta get me to the hospital or something. I tried to piss this morning and I can't, and my frickin dick is like a holocaust!"
Dan is the only jewish guy I know who refers to everything bad in the world as a holocaust. But I can see he's in pain, so I woke up Big Eric and we drove him to the ER in Eric's Saturn station wagon. What? That's how you roll when you skank, bitch.
We spent long hours with nothing for entertainment but bleeding crackheads and unwed mothers giving birth on the floow of the waiting room.
Finally Dan emerged, pale and shaken. We got in the car without a word and headed home. It was months before we got the story out of him.
Turns out our feisty latina Beronica liked to make the love in a very uncomfortable place which does not happen to be the walk-in coat closet in your Gramma Mabel's nursing home. No, she liked it in the bad place. It was a VERY bad place for our Daniel.
When the doctors finally swabbed Dan out (collective wince from the men-folk), they removed the source of Dan's travails.
A jalapeno seed.
Two months later I quit the ska band and joined the Army. I think life turned out a little safer for me that way.
________________________________________________
source: http://www.ubersite.com/m/58903
lmao.. I totally agree with you there!
~Accepting design works~ 
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