Carter

I play music for a living. This means sometimes I am carted around by a personal driver in Los Angeles and other times I am stranded in Porter Ansas, TX with a road manager that gave up the hotel rooms for extra cash, leaving me to be accosted by a large and equally fierce redneck women(think hippopottomus) whose mating call sounds something like "God damn my foot hurts! The only time I hurt this bad is when I punched my boyfriend in the mouf(sic) and broke 4 of my nails!"(displays her taloned, stumpy hand and looks to me for acceptance), spawned by her recent battle against the more crafty broken whiskey bottle that conceals itself on the ground to attract prey. Her jowels flapped this mantra, resulting in frequent insanity and a futile search for means of suicide to provide myself some sort of relief, but to no avail. Hippopotimi when intoxicated can be very dangerous, and unable to be reasoned with. I escaped within an inch of my life, 2 others were not so lucky. I've since hired a bodyguard to protect me. Dawn: Later, after no sleep and witnessing a aikido assult on an unfortunate 5 foot girl attempting to rouse a sleeping band member by means of slapping him on the chest ferociouly(her name was Emily, she was French Canadian and smelled of the wild) our fearless driver swerved directly into oncoming traffic. It was clear that myself and Grego, the Polish Hammer, would have to take charge and lead the wagons back to the homeland. It was very cute how road manager realized he lost his wallet containing all the gig money as soon as we returned to Austin. And yes, I still play with them from time to time. Other days are calm... msprm name="fileName"