I'LL BE YOUR ROADY IF YOU SPERMICIDE MY GRANDPA'S COW
My maternal grandfather, out on the farm, was a colourful personality.
He used to say "Grab the bull by the balls" as a metaphor for embracing life.
He used to say "You eat, you shit, you die- then its all over", which pretty much means the same thing. My maternal grandfather worked his arse off for 50 years on a cattle farm in the middle of nowhere. But he loved it. Every minute of it.
Why am I always crap at following advice?
The mind space of Avalon Donacelli
The crowd sucked tonight, but the band didn't. She knew she had to think that, being Edan's girlfriend and all. But they actually were really good. Better than that. Not fantastic. But she believed they would be. Edan was driven. A visionary with talent. Albeit a bit of a tosser on occasion. Sometimes Ava thought believing in Edan was the only truth she spoke and breathed. The only thing in her life that wasn't a lie.
Edan was the self appointed "auteur" of Nick the Stripper; auteur being a wanker word for the dude who made the band happen. He formed it, wrote the songs, played guitar, sang and would eventually produce an album when they had enough money. He would do it too. If it was left up to Gary (bass) and Nigel (drums) it would never happen. Any cash would be spent on booze and pot. Any spare time spent on getting pissed and fucking groupies (yes, they did have them, even though they still had naff nights like this one, playing in suburban hell holes to a disgruntled crowd of three, not counting the cheer squad- consisting of Ava). Gary and Nigel were the apathetic arses who made up the remainder of Nick the Stripper. Woeful name. Seriously terrible. Edan was a big fan of vintage Nick Cave. He thought calling themselves the title to a long forgotten song would make a statement. Signal a return to early punk/ goth roots, with style and training taking it all a step forward. Ava wondered if it was possible to consider someone an arrogant, pretentious arse-stain and love them all at the same time.
"Ava-where's my beer? Go get me one!" Gary was really turning the charm-ometer up a notch tonight.
"You have legs, you have a tab. Go get it your fucking self" was the curt reply that proceeded Avalon storming off outside.
"What's her problem?" the bewildered bassist asked Edan. Dutiful Ava never cracked the sads, and women were never that complex, so the boyfriend was bound to know the machinations of her mind.
"Her grandfather died today. She's being shitty and morose since she found out." It didn't occur to Edan that shitty and morose could be interpreted as the same thing.
Ava was outside, observing a centipede maneuver itself on a leaf, twisting and turning. It reminded her of a snake, all scaly and contorted.
"Hey" Edan said, as he squatted down beside her.
"Hey," the girlfriend replied, not averting her gaze from the insect. "You played a good set tonight. Don't worry about the crowd. They're arseholes."
"Maybe I'm the arsehole. I lined the gig up." Fatalistic, narcissistic Edan in full form.
"Maybe you expect too much of yourself. You can't be everything to everybody. And maybe not every venue is ready for postmodern post pop punk."
Did he detect a sarcastic dig? No. Ava was never a bitch. Wouldn't know how to be. Just had a rough day and was probably tired. Maybe he should get her home.