Gloom clouds seem to be dissipating, mostly by me not giving a crab’s ass about FB and its unprofessional untrustworthy lame excuse for “social communication” (Next Big Thing, now please).
Back in the world of It Really is Rocket Science, Musicians do radio interviews, pod cast interviews, magical ether interviews. Exposure to new ears and thanking the existing fans is important. Sometimes, though, things get out of hand.
Disk Jockey: “So what does the Rocket Science band like best about their chosen instruments? Kpau?”
Kpau: “Drumming burns energy almost as good as sex! I like sex! When you get right down to it, there’s no point to anything. But sometimes you get to eat candy and have sex — so that makes it all good! What was the question again?”
Sashiko: “F***in’ Texas Moo! He’s askin’ about music! Ah dinnae ken how yer brain gets from point A ta point B without sex! I don’t talk ’bout sex, ask another question. Wait …”
Glycerin: “Is this m-m-mike on? … … … bloody … is he ask-asking us ab-about s-s-s-sex, love?
We has to go the ‘loo! Now!”
Blar: “I like drums and now I have to go retrieve our lead guitarist. Be right back.”
Tsika: “Am surrounded by circus clowns! Idiots! Bass guitar is my beloved instrument! Love the f***ing feel of the sound vibrating my bones! Is nice public way of feeling like being f***ed! What the f***! Is engineer f***ing bleeping me? G** D*** f***ing H***. You are **** *****. How dare you F***ing censor straight talk! Is ****ing **** *** ***!! **** YOU!!!! Interview is OVER!”
Disk Jockey: “Anddddddd we’ll go to commercial break now.”
(imagery courtesy of creating avatars of the characters in RB3)