SILENCE, HAVOC, PASSÉ AURA & BLANK, ALOOF HOSTILITY

Aunt Rhody, having succumbed to Alzheimer's
late in life, was pissed to discover that she wasn't
actually a roadie for The Allman Brothers Band
and was repeatedly tossed off the tour bus sometimes
as far away from home as Toldeo. But in the tradition
of ripped to the tits rock & roll it wasn't uncommon
to suffer a few defriendings along the way.

The band, touring in support of their new album
The Punjab Diamond, would alternate Romilar shots
with clementine Slurpees while Gregg watched
Thunderball in his bunk on an iPhone, claiming
it was the only movie so boring that it actually
prevented him from nodding off.

Curiously, not even the driver, one Everett "Stumpy" Dithers,
noticed the gasoline smell as he was overly concerned
with his ages old case of chilblains. When this guy
said he bled rock & roll he was not exaggerating.
Every once in a while he coughed up crimson
phlegm into a lace hanky, which he insisted was
the last remaining remnant of David Bowie's dress
from the album cover of The Man Who Sold The World.

Every few cities down south a courier replenished
the bus with fresh dry goods which, according to the tour rider,
had to in some way evoke the year 1967. It was an
imperfect system at best, with very fashionable suede
fringed vests and wild rice and chick pea recipes
circa 1969 being squandered left and right.

Can you say intrusion?