someone narced on me

and said i was bitching, so they turned me into a monkey, gave me a guitar and made me take requests.

people were yelling out for skynyrd tunes and i could do that, when i wasnt a damn monkey.

then this crazy woman crawled up behind me and started singing something totally different than “gimme three steps” and people started booing, and i kept wanting to tell her to shut the hell up as i was trying to get adjusted to my paws and the terribly tuned kiddie guitar but all that came out was eeep eeep eeep.

some fat lady in the front row was laughing her ass off and i was thinking i could take a jump at her head, bounce off and maybe make it to the bottom of the left balcony, climb up there and make a quick getaway until i saw that i was chained to the stage.

so i let the bitch behind me sing and tried to play rhythm.


dave matthews band!!


people in hell have no taste. or maybe they do. maybe to ease their pain they just try to bring more pain to those around them. pass the buck as it were.


i slapped the chick with my tail which stunned her and i tried to fingerpick the opening to “dust in the wind” and i had it working until a string broke from my wickedly long nails.

the drunkards loved it.

they really loved it when i took the guitar string and started to strangle the chick with it and pulled her hair with my tail and bounced around and scratched out her eyes and pissed on the floor.

but they stopped laughing when i shat and threw it at them.

they rushed the stage just as the curtain fell and the clown came out with a hose and firehosed me, the chick, and the trucker who had started wailing on me.

and strangely, that wasnt even the best act of the night.

the invisible hand