The Diaries of Dinky Door-Take Bands
Every story is true! Believe me! Why, it could be about you! The names have been changed to protect the guilty and this cautious writer from a fate worse than door-takes!


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Before, During, and Enduring

Around Easter '95 ........ Bongo the drummer, Viv O'Bliv the bassist and Playboy the keyboard player whack ads in the local rags for a Guitar player and Percussionist; Gonzo the lead guitar player and Flash Harry on percussion soon join the crew ........

THE NOT-SO-TEENAGE ROCKIN' COMBO is born!

Combo rehearse four months .......... get shit together and land first gig, the band is a happy band!

Isn't life sweet .... your first gig and 110 people show up, fantastic!

Diary note: 6 months later: why does Gonzo keep turning up 2 hours late and then keeps fucking up the lick to "Jeffrey's such an arsehole?". Playboy has an annoying habit of changing keyboard patches 2 bars late and smiling, looking across at Bongo as though it was his fault. Flash Harry the perfectionist percussionist is pensive, Viv keeps his trap shut and keeps writing lists; Bongo holds it together and nurses his ulcer. The band starts to cross-dress, Gonzo looks cute but Bongo's fish-nets keeps pinching at his pubes.

Diary note: mid-97: Who needs rehearsals? Is the end at hand? crowds dwindling, the band starts to freely improvise around tunes .... no, no, it couldn't be, not jazz influences? Big trouble looms .... Bongo has a new tune called "Eclipse of the Anal Retentive" ....... ouch!!

Diary note: end-97: Viv leaves band to study his navel, Punky Meadows joins group as new bass player; is scared half out of his girlfriend when he sees how hard the charts are. Gonzo gets his girlfriend to measure it with a chicken! Flash Harry in Europe; Bongo does clinics in Sydney, Playboy gets good at Black Jack; is nearly stabbed to death by Big Red when he mentions the casino once too often at Bongo's Xmas pissup!

Diary note: about the Xmas pissup ..........

Pissup considered a success for two reasons, firstly ...... cops call at 11.30pm; one cop says he thought the band sounded pretty good; the second reason ..... the people left standing at 3.30am could all sing the guitar solo to "Son of Orange County" off of the Zappa/Mothers "Roxy and Elsewhere album."

Bongo is peeved to think that somebody would ring the cops about a party the Saturday before Xmas, and so early in the night too, the band was playing fucking GREAT!! .... So he hatchs a plan ........

New Years Eve rolls around and Bongo is having a quiet party with his main squeeze who is dressed in a wonderful sleek black evening number quaffing virulent amounts of champagne ....... as the magic hour descends ..... 10 ... 9 ... 8 ...7 .... the main squeeze opens all the doors and windows to the back room where Bongo's kit lives ..... 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 .. 2 .. 1 ......SMACK!!!!!

Bongo lets loose with a massive Sepultura-esque Double Bass Drum Frenzy, blasting away at all his china cymbals at once .... 30 seconds later the arsehole next door pokes his head around the corner, he has bare feet on loose gravel and still wearing his jim-jams!, "aaahhhhaaaa, flushed out" thinks Bongo, he keeps smacking his kick drums of oblivion. "Can you close the windows?" asks Mr Jim-Jam .... " I can't hear you" replies the main squeeze as she quaffs more bubbly, "Please close the windows!" Mr Jim-Jam pleads ..... Bongo stops and says "Happy New Year Mate, get the wife and come in for a drink!!!" Bongo grabs Jim-Jam's hand in a bone crusher handshake ..... You can hear new year car horns and sirens everywhere ..... somebody is even letting off flares!!!! But Mr Jim-jam hears none of that!

Jim-Jam prys his hand loose and waddles back up the gravel driveway in barefeet "ouch, ooff, whaaa" ...... "Don't run away, come back and have some fun!" says Bongo running after J.J. ...... Jim-jam disappears next door to report to his battle-axe .......

With the sweet smell of victory racing through his loins, Bongo decides with the main squeezes help that the plants out in the back- yard need christening, so, taking the doona cover off the bed and into the garden, Bongo and his squeeze bonk away in the back yard into the new year with Bongo revelling in the fact that Main Squeeze is pissed and very LOUD. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

The End

The adventures of Kemerson Kaked and Karma

Local trio decide to go to a post-gig shindig at local girlie table top dancing bar ........... Keef Kemerson takes a shine to lovely blond swivelling her derriere non-chalantly in his general direction; The rock god takes ten of his door-take bucks and plants them on blond's gyrating money-maker ..... she smiles and Gidget continues to grind ...... not to be outdone, Kreg Kaked takes red-back from the same kitty and slaps the twenty on the girl's athletic backside ...... Gidget's rosy cheeks hover ever so closely to Kaked's magnetic aura, he smiles the contented smile of a self-confident macho musician .......

Karl Karma has already blown his dough on piss and cover charges, not to be outdone by his cohorts, he whips out his maxed-out credit card, slides it down Gidget's wriggling crack and yells ..........

"EFTPOS !!!! CASH-OUT!!!!" and grabs the thirty bucks!

Karma was last seen head-butting the bouncers knee with his nose.

The End

Piss-ant gets Zapped at Ukranian Balls Up

Reception musician belatedly hired for Ukranian Dance Night turns up soused on bottle of Vodka, virulently passive agressive, he skulks around sneering at people who hired him.

As the night progresses, his mood sinks even lower while the rest of band tries to battle through the night, he sings drooling and dribbling into the mike like Jimmy Page after three bottles of white wine. Somehow the combination of drool on the cheap mike, lack of grounding and poor wiring at the gig combine with his guitar rig to complete the circuit and to start zapping the soused singer/guitarist!

"Be-bop-a -ZAP- fuckalula! she's my ZAP shit! ..... baby, aaarrgghhh!!!

Mr. Sousedalito tries to continue singing, slobbering all the more, making the electrical connecton all the more complete. Bemused Ukranians stop to look at the manic gyrations of Fat Elvis getting zapped by this musical cattle-prod ........

Be-bop-a-ZAP! aaarrrghhh! -lula, I don't mean may-aaabbbbeee! The band falls apart laughing! The audience starts laughing, the band takes a break to find the problem ..... Fat Elvis pisses off in disgust leaving his equipment behind ....... whilst putting his equipment in a back room, bass player finds an old shoe filled with chicken bones in the back of his amp! REALLY!

His amp was also his overnight bag! He comes back grabs his equipment and pisses off. Last word is that he is now semi-retired and healing nicely. The band played on without him.

Hey, I've got a student up there!!

Well-known drum teacher who used to work in a city music store now long gone, used to have four cubicles set up, teaching four students on the hop at one time, zipping between rooms, checking their paradiddles and nicking out the back for a quick slurp of the good stuff in between.

Great for telling yarns of the infamous muso's of yesteryear, our well-known drum teacher leaves one eager student to his paradiddles and nips down to the corner pub to meet some cronies for a quick beer with his pockets bulging full of paradiddle money. A round of drinks go down quick, then another, and another, our well known drumteacher with much flair launchs into the well told tale of "Crazy Ernie who farts when he shits and always cakes the bowl !!!!" heh heh .... much frivolity!

.... suddenly the drumteacher's face turns white ........... "FUCKING HELL, I'VE GOT A STUDENT UP THERE!!!!" He pisses off quick, amidst howls of laughter from his well-pissed cohorts, he trundles back up the stairs, the kid was playing paradiddles for TWO HOURS by himself in a deserted music school, unlocked and unattended .......

" ahem, (burp), ummm, that sounded great, aaahhhh, now don't forget to practice every night, now, ummm, take off and give my regards to your mum, heh heh!!" The student takes off and is absolutely mystified and exhausted from his two hour plus lonely little drum lesson. Our well known drumteacher pisses off back to the pub.

Five years later, the student lands his first teaching gig at a west suburban music store in a room which is just a passage way to the only toilet in the joint. His first night's lessons are continually interrupted by various muso's needing to take a leak, take a shit, with all the accompanying smells and noises ........ "Wow what a fucking gig this is!" ..... the student, now young wide-eyed teacher thinks to himself.

Later he meets the two guitar teachers, they offer him a beer and they sit down and chat ......... "Who was your teacher?" they ask ..... "Oh Yeah, we've had many a pissup with him, we went down to meet him one night in town and we were knocking a couple back and after two hours he realised he left a student upstairs ....... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!

A toast was then made to our well known drumteacher, "God, Bless Him, the old bastard!" hehehehehehe The story was then christened as sacred folklore ............. everybody became soused in our well known drumteachers honour. The End. .





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