Most of the time, my instincts are pretty good. I’m great at judging whether or not dairy products are still okay to consume, I can usually tell if I’ve got a visible panty line before I even turn around in front of the mirror, and I always kind of sensed that Britney Spears was a trashbag.
WOW, I suck at flirting, though. Well, I’m good at it up to a point, but then I take it to a place it shouldn’t go. I am the Hey Hey It’s Saturday of romance.
Last night, I went to watch some stand-up comedy at The Basement. It is important to note that beer and wine are served at The Basement. To me, mainly.
In between comedians, a trio of musicians played at the side of the stage. They sat on stage during all of the comedy acts, too, so they were basically plonked directly in front of me for about three hours. Which allowed me to single out the scruffy one and make sweet love to him with my eyes the whole time. My eyes are whores. Hooray for eye-whores.
One of my companions knew a couple of the comedians, so we hung around after the show, chatting and drinking, throwing our heads back with laughter the way people who are awesome do. Eventually I was introduced to the scruffy musician, and we settled into conversation. I assume I was being charming and flirtatious, because lord knows that’s what usually happens when I’m completely moose-arsed after eighteen thousand glasses of wine.
My other companion thought she’d nudge things along, so she came over to where we were chatting and said “Hey! You’re a musician, and Jo’s a musician! Aren’t you, Jo? Show him!”.
So I took my kazoo out of my handbag and played Smoke On The Water on it.
He didn’t technically sprint away, but it’s probably enough to say that kazoos are not his thing.
When I told my mate Lorin about it, she said she was surprised that he didn’t propose on the spot, and that clearly kazoo-playing “weeds out the keepers from the dregs”.
I'm pretty much spastically in love with the concept of Kazoo As Dude Sorter.
Will report back.
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6 comments:
You on Kazoo. Me on Lager-phone and Nic Kershaw on mega-Synth. Dream. (you can come up with our band name)
- I used to date a violinist who played for the Toronto Symphonic Orchestra. So when we used to hang out with her friends, who were all classical musos, they would ask me what instrument I played (assuming i was also a classical muso). I always said lager-phone. Being as they were Canadian and obviously had no idea that a lager-phone is not a 'real' instrument, it was always interesting to see how long the conversation about my lager-phone playing would get before they realised I was full of shit. Too often it was never.
My mate Lorin is currently collecting bottle caps for a home made lagerphone. Nat, we're halfway to an interstate supergroup. WILL HAPPEN.
I would just like to say:
a) how awesome it is to be mentioned so much in a blog I make no contributions to.
b) This band will rock so hard. I want in. And
c) I stand by the fact that any man worth his weight should have found the kazoo a turn on, not off.
I agree wholeheartedly with Lorin.
Jo, if you ever need a Special Guest Nostril at one of your gigs, consider my hand up. Not up my nostril, but... oh you know what I mean.
Lorin, stop collecting bottle-tops now. I know a good mate of yours who has a substantial collection of mint tins.
The kazoo is so romantic I don't know how anyone could resist its charms.
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