Friday, February 04, 2005

Fuck Off! Greg.

I took my boy Jamie to visit his Grandparents tonight. When we arrived we had all the "My but you have grown." stuff. Followed by "How are you doing at school?" and "What are you going to be when you grow up?"
Well Jamie is going to be an "animator" or cartoonist. He's very talented in that direction. He designs and builds his own 3D computer games. he's now asking me if he can use my recording studio to record the vocal acting for his next game.
So then Father says to me "There's a few dinner suits on the bed upstairs, I want you to try them on for size."
"Because you're coming to a big masonic function next month. Full dinner suit is obligatory."
Jamie says "I've never seen my Dad in a suit." and he's giggling like a school boy. Which is what he is in fact.
I'm whining like a child. "Awww do I have to? I'm a musician that's not going to do my image any good at all."
"You'll do as yuh Fatha sez an no mistake." Says Mother.
So I get up and make a big scene of shuffling to the door to go upstairs.
By now Jamie is nearly wetting himself laughing at the thought of me not just in a suit but in a DJ. I am not happy at all. Why can't I wear my jeans and sneakers to the big dinner? They'll be clean.
"Here you are Jamie. This is your Dad two years ago in a suit." The last time they forced me to wear this stuff. "Doesn't he look splendid."
"I look like Ron and Ron of 'da management' " I say glancing at the photo.
"Is that really you Dad?" asks Jamie.
"Yes I know it's not rock and roll but I'm afraid it is. I'm sorry your Grandparents have seen fit to expose you these horrors so young."
"Did you take your guitar?"
"er.... NO!"
"Don't listen to your Dad. He looked very nice. Now go and try on the suit."
"I don't need to if it's the same suit as last time it'll fit I haven't put on any weight."
"Try it on."
I went upstairs, stepped into the suit trousers, they were two inches too tight round the waist. Shit. Shit Shit. I'm getting fat. I tried another pair. They were ten inches too big. I put on the jacket it was OK. I went down stairs.
"Does it fit you?" asks Fatha.
"where it touches." I replied.
"Well then mutha take the lad down tuh Greenwoods an get 'im fitted out proper like. NO son of mine is going to let me down."
Mother says "They're very nice down there at Greenwoods."
"Oh God!" I have visions of the floor manager saying "Mr Humphries are you free?" I'm not even in the fucking Masons. I've been asked to join many times. But it's hardly rock and roll. I can't be doing with all that pomp and ceremony. I can't take them seriously. Come on, try and imagine me, Mike Da Hat, rock star, wearing white kid gloves and a pinny. I don't think so. Fatha is very high up in the lodge, past Worshipful master. Whatever that means. I guess amongst his peers he's important. But who gives a shit? I'm important to my friends (I hope) but we don't invent faux grandious names for ourselves. I'm just Mike and Del is Del. It's simple, it's honest.

So after a game of pool at the Cavendish I took Jamie home and went to my pub. Gay Gregory was there trying his luck with one of the Quinn brothers. He sees me and immediatley says "Fuck you Quinny here's a real man, a musician, not a fucking pen pusher."
"Hello Greg." I say.
"Hello lover."
"Greg you are the funniest poof I know, but forget it."
"I can only try. You may give in to me one day."
"Not in this life time Greg."
"Don't deny yourself." Greg talks with a Liverpool accent. "you know you want me. And you know you want it rough. I wont hold back I'll give it to you so you'll never forget. I promise."
"Fuck off! Greg." this seems to be the most common phrase I say to him nowadays. But he just laughs and says "I can wait. You're worth it."
Meanwhile Quinny has gone to get some sausages and chips. Greg sees the sausages and wants one.
"Get yer own." says Quinny.
"No I want yours Quinny. I want your sausage in my mouth."
"Fuck off! Greg."
Greg makes a grab and takes a sausage from Quinnys plate. In less than a second it's down his trousers and he's comparing it to his own.
It fair puts you off your ale. He has no shame what so ever.
"Do you want my sausage Quinny?"
At this point I think there might be fists flying. But it stays calm.
Quinny just says "Eat the sausage, don't ride it."
"Anything you say lover boy." and he makes a big show of fellating the sausage.
By now I've had enough so I say to the guys I'm going.
"Be back soon." says Gay Greg. "I'll be waiting."
My final words were "Fuck off! Greg."

iPod now playing - The Question by The Moody Blues


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