Sclee

We we’re rehearsing the other day, and Angela had these songs she’d written. The other two lads were being quiet and antsy. I got the impression that didn’t mix with girls too well, well, what would you expect, little lads, full of hormones, and they were a bit pisses off that I withheld the payment, that is to say, the cider, until after we did an hour or two. They sat and grumbled and blushed when Angela started to sing. It was powerful. Real PMT music. I was impressed. The poor fuckers couldn’t keep it. I had a word, I said, sure you think it’s really embarrassing to be around someone when they’re like that, it’s like looking at them having a shit or something, but remember, you’re pro’s and this is performance. They grumbled some more so I just gave them a couple of cans and we tried to work on a song. Angela’s brother is coming down next week. He plays keys. I get the impression he’s dark too. Cool, I said. Cider? Angela said no, she doesn’t drink. To listen to her howl, you’d think maybe she should take it up. I really need to knock this band into shape, cos she could really be something. Reminds me of yer one who sang in that band N that I saw back in oh..98 maybe in the funnel. They were shit but she sang like it was birth or something. I remember it cos we all headed back to this guys house after for a party, and the pills were free flowing, as they were at the time. If you were there you’d remember. Anyway, I remember waking it up and finding myself lying on the bed in some darkened room, my pants down around my knees and I looked around, blurrily, to see the drummer from M, a lumphammer of a man, snapping a condom onto his engorged member. Our eyes met. “what” he said. “I was gonna use a Johnny.” Well, I was indignant. I got up, pulled up me pants. “what?” he says again. I got him back by fucking his girlfriend a couple of years later. I think she gave me the clap.