Donuts, Broken Strings and Double Peddles
The funniest thing about being everything and nothing at all is the irony of the scenario by the day’s end. It was the usual audition day for me and the boys at 5.50pm, rushing to a studio to perform our songs for a so-called charity competition when I had the urge to suddenly eat doughnuts. Cutting the corner to the usual route and stopping by the gas kiosk with the guys screaming ‘The fuck man, we’re fucking late. Let’s go wei. What the fuck!’
I go,’ Chill man, I need to eat some doughnuts’
So we arrived late and find that our bassist; The Great Ahmad is stuck in a traffic jam hours away (as usual) and really start cutting our shit into the studio organizers about ‘Mad getting into an accident and to their credit, they were nice enough to push us to a later slot and even given us a free 30 minutes (our original slot) to warm up without our 12-inch cock bass man. Everything is perfect, the pitch, my vocals, the drum beats and the like when we hear Ahmad’s voice outside.
‘Cool right? All of us here and we can perform and rock their socks of their cocks and clits’
Right.
Just fucking right.
Calvin the guitarist man is screaming. His guitar’s 7th string busted out and obviously we still can’t play without THE string. So there I go giving a doe-eyed cheeky little boy face to the pretty lady about pushing us further down the slot, ‘Er.. Rileen ah, our guitarist string burst -la (*wink *wink and partially distorted eyebrow raised inwards and cheek pushed to one side) … we can’t play now.. Er, can you like, uhm… give us a later slot pleaseee. I’ll give you five ringgit and buy you dinner okay? I mean we will buy you dinner’
‘Hmm… okay. You got the last slot, 10.00pm and I want my dinner at 8.30’
Miraculously she agrees and off we go to get new strings and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.
We get in, do our whole so called 'Progressive-Neo-Classical-Metalcore-Hard Rock-Metal’ thing with dirty blues guitar solos that transcend to an assault of insane shredding and fretwork with pounding double peddle drum solos rocking the balls off the table. Everyone is impressed and giving up the thumbs up and the whole ‘Fucking awesome guys. Nice vocals. That solo damn power man. Your drummer damn owning wei’
‘But guys, didn’t you read the rules? No heavy metal or hard rock lah. I’m sorry man, we gotta disqualify you. Sorry man’ How the fuck can a band competition work without the stereotypical-confirm-lose-too loud-metal band ?
Story of Mezzo Asphyxia’s life.
Fuck kacang.
posted by Shen-Weng at 4:29 PM
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