Quote:
Originally Posted by SCadaddle
Years and years ago, the Nurse girlfriend and I attended a Halloween costume contest party at a local night club. She was decked out in a white skirt with fishnet hose and hat, I had a lab coat, a stethoscope around my neck, a piece of gold foil on a tooth and drank beer from a plastic male urinal bottle (she claimed it was brand new from the hospital and was in a cardboard box!). We were "Dr. Feelgood and Nurse Goodbody". Won a $75 bar tab. Drank it all up!
I seem to remember first place that year was a chick with a lamp shade on her head and a cardboard table over her shoulders. That's right, she was the "one night stand".
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Back in the day, AND THIS IS WAAAAY OFF TOPIC, when I was a budding musician we scored a Halloween gig at a local Moose Lodge. Moose Lodge, at the time, was a low class, very low class, Elks Club situation. You know, really cheap drinks and rotgut beer in cans for 'members' only. The idea was to play good old Country Rock N' Roll for like almost free of charge for the piano player's uncle or whatever.
Anyways, there was a costume party contest thing going on with first prize being some sort of shot-gun which the MC was waving around who seemed quite ignorant of the etiquette of the brandishment of weaponry in boozy bar-type venues. What I vaguely remember was the 'lady' contestant who wore white long johns (with the classic trap door arrangement) who rocked a wire dispenser of toilette paper about her neck. Her long johns (and face) were smeared with brown paint. I am not totally sure but I think she was going as a 'szhit-faced person'. Truly, truly well below any idea I may have had to date of low-class scatalogical humor, if you will.
So I'm thinking this is gonna be the anecdote I will recite on future interviews with The Rolling Stone magazine about the early days once I became a world-famous rock-star drummer.
Well, during the break between the first and second set, whilst hammering free cans of Pabst Blue ribbon beer, and upon witnessing the the horror noted above, our lead guitarist suggested we do our best to see how long it would take to get kicked off the stage and be allowed to go home with each of us retaining the correct number of soft orifices on our persons.
Okay, man, Kool!
Well out goes Bob Seger and The Silver Bullet Band and in comes Alvin Lee and Ten Years After but without the lilting subtlety, nuance and restraint and with our crappy amps turned up to 12.
Understandably, they offered us even more free beer TO LEAVE.
Winning!