Once again the famous BBB, with me, the famous Aegthil, was asked to entertain the masses at a concert. Ah me, the life of a rock star. You just get no rest at all.
I know it sounds as if it is super glamorous, with lovely ladies hanging off your arm, Beorlich weed and other such supplies, crowds cheering your every move, fan mail, screaming women, money and presents, fame and fortune. You are the fashion and style icon, everybody follows your every move, you are the centre of attention at all times, and you are, in point of fact, the schizz. Totally the schizz. Like.
Yes, it sounds that way, and it is that way. Exactly like that. (For me, anyway, not for Beor.)
But spare a thought for all the energy this uses up! Have pity on the poor rock star who is feeling a little tired, a little peaky, and yet has to go out anyway to accept the praises, the adulation, the screaming women. Do I ever get a rest, I ask myself. When do I get time for ME, instead of devoting all my time and energy to women who adore me?
I tell you. It's not all it's cracked up to be, this rock star business. But needs must, and I shall soldier on.
And then you make one little remark, one itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka dot bikini little remark, and the broadsheets are all over it, it's the gossip of the town, it's on every front page and in every conversation. So you get fired from Old Winyards for something that was totally not your fault. Is it my fault that Lenni looks fat in that dress? No. Is it my fault that I felt obliged to say something, just a very little something, entirely truthfully and only in the spirit of trying to help her? No! Of course it isn't. It is my way to help people. It's who I am. It's just me. I'm a noble soul.
It was such an over-reaction to fire me from the band. So totally an over-reaction.
Anyway, this minor point aside, here's a picture of BBB playing on the Very Last Ever Bridge (even though there are plenty more bridges after it, so it's a really stupid name) for some bobbit thing. Goodness knows what, but something to do with baby bobbits. I think there just aren't enough baby bobbits because bobbit women are just so unattractive, and so this was a concert to encourage more baby bobbit making. I think so, but I'm not sure. I really don't want to see the illustrated instructions for that one. Nope. No way.
Some bobbit lady (that's her out in front of the band) gave a long and boring speech about baby bobbits and something was mentioned about Casually Strolling to Mordor yet again (another stupid name, for obvious reasons), BBB played, the crowd cheered, and then some losers from the Lonely Mountain Band played some horrible music by the lovely lady Gingerale (well, that's not what my Fool said, he said it was very impressive composition, but that's why we call him a Fool, because he is one, and he doesn't know anything). I wasn't allowed to play with the LMB losers (mostly) because of that unfortunate remark about Lenni. Boy, she sure can hold a grudge!
Then everybody walked to see some trolls. I have no idea why. But I walked behind Wrenaya, which you must admit is a very nice view indeed, so that was worth it.
Don't we all look like a rack of bowling pins?!
ReplyDeletePoor, POOR old rock star. At least you got invited to play with those Lonely Mountain Band sNorts! I had to be excluded AGAIN and left to my devices and pipe-weed with that lively lass Wrenaya. Terrible, TERRIBLE thing being excluded from the 'cool kids club.'
What a joy it will be to be sitting in the Breetown Old Folks Dump (BOFD) in a few decades and have some lovely bobbit, dorf, or troll nurse declare - 'I'm here because of you and what you did on that bridge that day!'
"Yes, yes, I'll reply," in my gravelly old man Liza Minelli voice, "we did it for the baby bobbits. And dorfs. And weetiny trollkin."
~B.B., Most Degenerate