So there I was, loveless, friendless, helpless, homeless. No one liked me and I didn't like anyone. I was seriously considering a massive killing spree from the top of a tower with a rifle. Then, as I was walking down the street with my guitar-case full of death, a BIG BLUE VAN pulled up beside me. "What's in the case?" asked this bald bearded guy with a bunch of tattoos. Not wanting him to know I was on my way to kill a bunch of people, I lied and told him it was a guitar. I was immediately drafted as the new TARD rhythm guitarist! The only problem is that I still don't have an actual guitar, so if anyone wants to send me one, I could really use it!
