In Europe 5774

We landed in Amsterdam a few minutes after five in the evening, which seemed strange because we flew out of Seoul at noon. We did our thing at the airport and then made our way to the hotel. Our driver, Dirk, greeted us enthusiastically and said that it was an honor to have us in the country. “Thank you, young man, at least someone doesn’t object to our presence here,” I replied. “We protested vehemently to get you here, Sir.” “I know, just funnin’,” I replied. Dirk gave me a peculiar look, which I found amusing. “I’m just talking ignorant. Now if I said ‘Finnin’ you might need to worry, you know how those people are,” I then said, which brought a smile to the young man’s face.

I then saw the vultures.

As usual, I instructed Dirk to find a good restaurant. “Which one,” he asked. “Since I’ve never been here before, I’m sure you want my opinion,” I replied. “Sorry, I guess I should suggest one.” “Hey, Dirk, why don’t you suggest one.” “You probably think I’m dull.” “Of course not, I think a whole lot worse than that.” “Yes, Sir.” “How about the Burger Bar,” Dirk said. “What about it?” “I heard you don’t like fancy dining.” “You saying I’m low-class?” “No, Sir,” the Dutch lad replied in a panic. “It’s cool, those vultures are paying, but a burger sounds good.”

Dirk pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, and we stepped out. The press surrounded us, knowing the drill. “Look here, vultures that haven’t evolved,” I cracked. “We’re ready for your insults,” Andre Bakker, a reporter for a pop culture magazine in Amsterdam. “Is that so?” “We know the routine, Scragg,” Anja Smit, a television reporter, said. “Gee, a bunch of know-it-alls.” “You’re going to stick us with this bill,” Femke Meyer, a stunningly beautiful journalist from Amsterdam told me in a serious tone. “Alright, let’s go eat.”

The other patrons at the restaurant came running out like excited kids.

I raised my arms in victory and told them that they didn’t turn the plane back. “Welcome to Amsterdam, Scragg Man,” someone hollered. “Thank you, I already feel at home. I bet that would rankle some people if I stayed,” I joked. “We’ll take you,” someone else shouted out. “Yeah, but when the property values go down, you’ll ship me off to Denmark,” I replied. “You’re right, they need high-class folk like me,” Rory yelled, which brought cheers and laughter. “Oh God,” Femke gasped. “Are you feeling haughty there, girl,” I asked. “What!” “You heard me.” “Yes, Femke is haughty,” Anja said with a smirk that riled up her rival. “I won’t be dragged into something sordid,” she replied. “Anything to do with Rory is sordid,” Glen joked. “Is that Bob Miles and Bruce Dowley,” someone in the crowd asked. “No, they’re our personal aides,” I replied. “They look just like them.” “Nope, just two slugs we boss around.” “That’s them,” Femke said. “Hey, I’m the star of this show.” “Bob and Bruce personify cool,” Andre declared. “Wow, you really don’t know these humps.” Bruce stepped forward and said that he and Bob are here to maintain order. “With Scragg and Rory, you never know when all hell will break loose, so they brought in the real muscle to handle these guys,” he then said. The crowd burst into cheers, and we all walked inside.

I ordered an Angus burger that was out of this world. The sweet potato fries were also delicious. Barton ordered a Waygu burger, which is Japanese beef, that drew the ire of Rory. “You feel the need to be different,” he asked the billionaire. “I’m familiar with this beef, now shut up,” Barton snapped. “Yeah, I bet you are.” “Shut up; I’ve been all over this world.” “Yes, and been asked to leave everywhere you’ve been.” “You little bastard!” “Barton quickly apologized, which wasn’t necessary. “You don’t know what it’s like dealing with that creature,” he then pleaded. “I’m a human being,” Rory replied in his Elephant Man voice, which busted everyone up.

We’re in Europe, which is a start. Hopefully, we’ll play this leg without any hassles and win over more fans.

And maybe a few politicians, but I’m not counting on that.

Published in: on June 24, 2018 at 5:26 am  Leave a Comment  
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Fighting The Good Fight 5773

Bob and Bruce decided to fly to Amsterdam, which was an added bonus. Neither of them has ever been to the country, and they both said that they may not get the notion to do it again. Naturally, I was delighted and told them that they need to learn how to play so they can join the band. Both of them laughed and said that they didn’t have a musical bone on their bodies. “You’re playing a heavy metal guitarist in your next film,” I reminded Bob. “Yeah, but Robin and Cullen are doing all the work,” he replied. “That’s right, all you get is the glory,” Rory said. “Playing a drug-addled metalhead is glory?” “Shit, that’s every teenage boy’s dream.” “I’m a little beyond that.” “Like that journalist told Scragg, age is merely a state of mind.” “That wisdom always comes from youngsters,” Bob replied. “You mean I won’t be saying that when I’m an old fuck?” “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Bob and Bruce have more energy than most people half their age.

When boarded the plane and got airborne without any hassles. Rory took his happy pills, which made less nihilistic, but he couldn’t resist a spewing out a couple scenarios that had the plane at the bottom of the ocean before drifting off to sleep. He sat between Bob and me, which gave him some assurance that everything would be okay. “He’s out cold,” Bob remarked. “Good, maybe he’ll stay that way until we land, I replied.

I surfed the net and found an article about Chris Roseman giving the politicians hell the ongoing mess that the widening of Highway 24 had created for the towns that it runs through. I saw a picture of Chris in Clifford talking to store owners who have complained the construction has hurt their business and that there seems to be no end in sight. Another pic showed the musician turned civic leader chatting with a foreman. “Chris isn’t letting up about Highway 24,” I said to Bob. “Bruce and I went up to see him about a month ago, so he could show us what he was talking about and he’s right, Scragg, they’ve dicked that road up and have made a clusterfuck.” “I know it, according to Honey, Johnny, and Stray, Steedston, and Altonville have been cut-off from the world, as has Wellsboro and Galenburg.” “They have, and it costs those municipalities a lot in tax revenue. Chris said that they’ve been trying to get this project going for forty years, and now that they have they’re expanding it and fucking up the works for everyone. I wonder how much the politicians and wealthy landowners made off this deal,” I then asked. “Millions,” Bob replied. “Mr. Jones” is a most relevant film, and that it was based on a true story should concern people,” I then remarked. “Chris is right: those bastards will run amok if you let them and if you’re not engaged you make their malfeasance that much easier,” Bob replied. “That’s right, and they’ll continue to screw up the works until the people put a stop to us, but sometimes it doesn’t matter because they could use nasty legal ruses to justify their bullshit–like eminent domain,” I commented. “Isn’t the enrichment of the elite at the expense of everyone else,” Bob cracked.

Chris has accomplished a lot in his life–some of which he is deeply ashamed of–but his public advocacy might be his crowning achievement. For a once reckless man who had little regard for anything except immediate gratification, Chris’s remarkable turnaround is remarkable and fantastic. He could easily be relaxing somewhere on a beach, but instead, he’s living and fighting the good fight in a small town in southeastern North Carolina that was a dot on the map before all the construction isolated it from view.

Way to go, Chris, keep the fighting the good fight.

Published in: on June 23, 2018 at 7:42 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Hangin’ With The Press 5772

After we played the third show, we meet the press at a club called the Golden Sphere, a trendy spot that bordered on gaudy with all its modern bullshit. We got a room where we ate sandwiches and snacks for supper, which was cool with the crew. We shared some laughs with the vultures who said that tonight’s concert was mindblowing. “We aim to please, especially in countries that let us in,” I joked. The press laughed but didn’t harp on that issue.

I looked out into the club with all its lights, techno music, and patrons glued to their phones, which seemed to defeat the purpose of going to a place like this. “I remember when you went to a club looking for action or to get lit up. Now, the youngsters just text each other from different hot spots,” I said to Seok Min, a journalist for South Korea’s largest paper. “I know, it’s like they’re from another world,” he replied. “I reckon it’s a worldwide thing.” “Yes, I’m afraid so, and it’s getting worse.” Ki Sim, a music reporter for a Korean news channel, wondered if any of those youngsters ever get out and hand without their phones. “I know it’s a stupid question, but I wonder what would happen if they did,” he then asked. “They wouldn’t leave without their phones,” I replied. “Are you kids like that?” “No, they have lives now.” “I never imagined a world like this,” Seok then remarked. “No, I remember those bag phones and thinking that all this wireless shit wasn’t for me. I’m just not captivated by it,” I said. “I have to use it, but when I’m off, I put it all away and get away. It really is a like a drug,” Ki commented. “It is a drug, the developers even admitted that. We got kids who can’t read, write or think for themselves because they’re addicted to those phones, but that’s progress,” I lamented. “But then again, I’ve seen many a person my and older glued to their phones, too, so let’s not just rip on the youngsters,” I added.

We then moved on from that subject.

Our next stop is Amsterdam, which will be a first for us. Some of the hosts have been there and said that it’s a nice place to visit. Ki told me that the cancelation of the European leg of our tour was never really in the works. “Some bureaucrats there tried to convince your promoter that your visit will create chaos, which was bullshit; however, it’s hard to gauge those things when you’re not there. I’ve never seen anything like it, but then again, you’re an original, Scragg, so I guess it’s fitting. I sure hate it that it’s come to this,” he added. “Yep, but I do have interests there and want to maintain business ties. We’re going with an open mind and hoping for a memorable experience–naturally one that we’ll look back fondly on when we’re old and feeble,” I replied. “Age is a state of mind.” “Shit, tell that to my back and legs.” “You’re a stud, Scragg.” “Yeah, one that’s being driven into the ground.”

Hangin’ with the press is usually a fun time that provides us with a lot of laughs and some excellent insults. As I’ve said many times before we’re just a band who plays music and tries to entertain our fans, so there is no need for us to have an adversarial relationship with the vultures. I know my personal life, as well as Blake’s, has been under scrutiny, but that’s mainly our doing, and we accept that as part of life, but when I’m on tour, I’m nothing important and try to get along with the press because it benefits us.

It’s only rock ‘n’ roll, nothing more and there’s no need to make so.

Published in: on June 23, 2018 at 6:44 am  Leave a Comment  
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Mind Over Body 5771

The second show in Seoul was another success that sent the crowd home happy. As usual, the band was tight, and we played a high-energy set, which kept the audience on its feet. There were many highlights in the show, but for me, the defining moment was a mellow acoustic performance I performed in the opening set. It was a composition written by Rory titled, “Mind Over Body,” a tribute to Charles Krauthammer, the political pundit who passed away earlier in the day, whom Rory shared a correspondence with. A few weeks back, Charles said that he only had a few weeks to live. He had terminal cancer and wrote his final column saying that he lived a full life.

It would be hard to find two men with more dissimilar backgrounds. One was a Harvard educated doctor who became a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and a popular on-air commentator. The other, a high-school dropout born into abject poverty and familial dysfunction who escaped his humble beginnings through his prodigious musical talents. One man was an eloquent speaker who used proper English and was calm and even-keeled. The other, a volatile personality with a propensity for speaking off-the-cuff with a history of violence and outrageous behavior. Yet, despite their differences, the two men forged a friendship that even I didn’t know the extent of until Rory told me.

A little background is necessary to describe the song’s title. Charles Krauthammer suffered a catastrophic accident during his first of college that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Despite this tragedy, he went into rehab for over a year and then resumed his studies and graduated near the top of his class. He became a psychiatrist but decided that wasn’t his calling, so he began writing articles that were picked up by various publications. Eventually, he became a columnist for the Washington Post, as well as other news sources. He became best known on television as a commentator for Fox News. Never once did he let his disability get in the way of his dream of becoming a journalist and through perseverance, he achieved his goal with stunning success. Charles was also an accomplished chess player, a classical music fan, and a lover of books.

After Rory was forced to shoot and kill that Muslim terrorist, Charles Krauthammer reached out to him and told him that his views of various subjects reveal a man who knows what he’s talking about but too often sabotages his message with his bombastic rants and silly feuds. Through this, Rory and Charles began a correspondence that led to a friendship. Rory visited Charles on a couple of occasions and said that they shared many laughs and some thought-provoking conversations; a wonderful revelation that still makes me smile. Rory told me before the show that Charles told him to keep speaking his mind but don’t let it wreck your career. He also imparted the wisdom of many years of debating people who oppose your views but doing it civilly and with respect. His friendship with Rory proves that people can build bridges and change. At one time, Charles Krauthammer was a liberal, whose politics changed in the 80’s. He was able to make that transition without stooping to the gutter or trashing his once fellow liberals.

Rory asked me to sing the song because he didn’t feel up to it tonight and he felt that I could do it justice. “Charles loved many of your songs and thought your classical albums are the work of genius. I think he would appreciate you singing this tune in his honor. I wrote after Charles said he only had a few weeks to live. I sure hate that it’s being performed now, but that’s life, and Charles accepted it like a man,” Rory said. “I’ll be glad to do it, Rory, and thank you for sharing some of your experiences with Charles with us,” I replied. Each of the crew shook Rory his hand and then gave him a hug. “Your friend would be proud of you,” Gustavo assured Rory.

Rest in peace Charles, and thank you for being  Rory’s friend and imparting wisdom on him.

Published in: on June 22, 2018 at 6:51 am  Leave a Comment  
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Didn’t Catch A Break 5770

The crew slept in, which meant a shortened day, which was cool by me. Clayton and I talked about the recent turn of events in Europe, and he said that it was rash to cancel the tour, but based on the information they had, it seemed like a logical decision. “I know you’re ready to chuck this tour, Scragg, and you have every right to feel that way. Fortunately, the people rose up and demanded that they reverse their decision, and they did. I’ve never seen anything like this, but then again, there isn’t anyone like you,” the promoter said. “It’s a small group of politicians calling the shots and trying to fuck things up. Europe is going through some rough times that they’re not equipped to handle; however, only they can right that ship over there. I’m not putting up with any harassment of any kind. We’re respectful guests and expect to be treated the way in return, which I know will happen with the people, it’s the politicians over there that worry me.” “They’ll be no bullshit, Scragg, just lay low and do your thing. Obviously, don’t stoke the fires because it isn’t worth it.” “I won’t, it’s just tiring to go through this, especially when you consider our track record.”

I got up with Thomas, who looked ready to go. Healed from his injuries, the Swede said that Europe is eager for us to play there. “You’re huge there, Scragg, especially in the countries that banned you. It’s a win-win for you, but I hate it that you and the guys have to endure this absurd drama because there aren’t better guests than you guys.” “I told Clayton that, and assured me that they’ll be no more issues, which isn’t comforting coming from him.” We fly to Amsterdam after you finish here, which is a good place to kick off the European leg. “Saar posted a funny video about the situation that you should check out.” “I will.”

I called Blake, who said that I’m impossible to keep track of. “One minute you’re banned and the next you’re not,” she said. “I know, it’s a mess.” “Anyway, I’m glad that it’s resolved.” “Yes, but going home would have been nice.” “Under those conditions?” “Even under those conditions.” “Thank you. Elmer, but you’ll be home soon enough, even though it would be nice if you were home now.” “This sucks.” “Remember, next year you’re free.” “Yep, handcuff me if I do anything stupid.” “Hey, there’s an idea.” “Hell, be like old times for me.” “Really?” “Yeah, all you need is a police uniform,” “Elmer!”

The more I talked to Blake, the more I wanted to be home. She spoke of the triplets and Francesa, and then the rest of the grandbabies. She later described how Bambi was having a grand time with the Elizabeth and Amy. I imagined myself there, but I’m here and not going there after I’m done here. Shit, I’m talking crazy.

I didn’t catch a break after all.

Published in: on June 21, 2018 at 8:12 am  Leave a Comment  
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A Sudden Turn Of Events 5769

The band and I didn’t let the news of the canceled gigs dampen our performance, which was an all-out throwdown and, then some. I opened the show with a humorous little ditty called, “They Won’t Let Me In” which I roast arrogant bureaucrats who consistently go against the will of the people. The crowd let out a deafening cheer and got appropriately rowdy. The second tune, “Nazi Pug” a number about the absurdity of the Count Dankula case where he trained his dog to give the Nazi salute and was heavily fined and threatened with jail time. The third composition, “Your Cat Just Hurt My Feelings” another lighthearted tune about the insane laws in Europe that punish folks who they deem offensive.” The crowd laughed it up with us, and I could feel the night turning into a memorable one. The fourth song, “Thank God I’m in Seoul” a tribute to the fine people here, sent the crowd into a frenzy of cheers that let us know they were on our side.

We played everything that rocked, much to the delight of our fans, and in doing so, we ran a tad over, but no one was complaining as the night was electric. I thanked the crowd for coming out a giving us a boost. They let out another roar that sent chills through us.

It was one fantastic night.

We got cleaned up and then headed to an all-night pizza joint called Big Louie’s. We arrived at the joint. I looked at our driver, Hwan, who said it was a jumping place, even if it looks a little rough on the outside. “Okay, but if anyone gets whacked, it’s on you,” I joked. We walked into the joint and were given a standing ovation. “Please, please, just here for some pizza,” I said. The chants of “Scragg Man, Scragg Man, Scragg Man” began and I took a bow. “You’re too kind.” “Scragg Man, any pizza you like,” a short Korean man asked me. “You Louie?” “No, I’m Suk.” “You own this joint?” “Yes.” “Then why isn’t it Big Suk’s?” “Because Louis sounds better.” “I don’t know about that, but it’s your joint and your pick on the pizza.” “Yes, Sir.” “Hey, we’re being cheered; if this were Belgium we would be arrested,” Rory cracked. “Fuck Europe,” someone screamed. The voice sounded familiar, and I let out a laugh.

Thomas Adamsson then stepped into view.

The band greeted the tech with open arms and the crowd cheered. “Listen up, Scragg and the guys have been busy putting on a kickass show, so they don’t know about the latest developments. Turn that television to the news to show them what’s going on in Europe,” Thomas asked the staff. On the television, massive protests were going on over the cancelation of our tour, which has forced several nations to reconsider. “Upon further consideration, we have concluded that canceling the Scragg Man’s concerts here in Spain was a rash decision and one that was not representative of who we are. Please, Scragg Man, come to Spain, you are welcome with open arms,” some hack pleaded. “This was a poor decision made it haste and one that the people reject, as do I,” some hump from Denmark said. “We’re not in the EU, so you know we’re against this nonsense,” a Norwegian lackey declared.

What the fuck?

Clayton is busy trying to figure out what to do, but I reckon every nation has decided that they’re tired of being told what to do when it comes to concerts, so you’re back on–that’s if you want to be,” Marty said. “Get Clayton on the horn and tell him to put everything back in place, but that I won’t tolerate any nonsense from hacks,” I said. “I’d love to tell you to fuck it, but the people of Europe made this happen, and they did it on a moment’s notice. It’s not them, Scragg, although they do bear responsibility for electing dickheads who are utterly worthless, but I digress, it’s folks like Saar and Nova who get the worst end of it,” Thomas said. “I’m tired of being put this,” I scoffed. “I understand.” “So let’s go rock Europe and tell them,” I then said.

Clayton said that everything is back on and nothing will stop it now. I replied by telling him to tell the hacks over there to fuck off, which he said he would rephrase, but let them know about my displeasure.

We then ate pizza and partied with the folks at Big Louie’s.

This shit could only happen to me, and it gets tiring; however, the people rose up and let their voices be heard. I’m not important, but their response was, and perhaps they can facilitate positive change.

All this over an ex-con fuckup.

Published in: on June 21, 2018 at 3:04 am  Leave a Comment  
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An Uncertain Future 5768

Sure enough, a video describing his ordeal with the lunatic who tried to kill him surfaced again, which is being used to keep us out of Europe. In the video, Rory talks about the need to screen people from entering the country, especially ones with ties to terrorism, He also said that immigrants need to assimilate or stay out because it’s not Americans role to conform to their standards. Rory merely talked common sense, he even mentioned that the disaster after WWI led to this nightmare; however, the EU and certain politicians heard a racist nationalist who is a threat to the continent. “What the fuck,” I said, realizing just how insane all of this has become.

A savage besmirching of my character is also being utilized.

In an article written by some hack, I’m portrayed as a low-class criminal married to a murderer, and who got lucky. They listed all my previous convictions and all the shit that went down in Kansas. There was nothing new in the piece; only the added vitriol, which was apparently good enough to use as an excuse to nix the tour. I laughed when they showed pictures of me with the likes of Stultz, Brimley, and some of the other thugs out in Warren and Jackton, which somehow is news again. They also butchered my wife’s character, which enraged me, but I knew now wasn’t the time to lose it. Rory almost lost it when a video of some smug hack called Blake a “murderous tart who married someone as nasty and brutal as her.” “Fuck these assholes, Scragg,” he seethed in a low, angry voice.

Bob and Bruce, who are staying on another floor, learned of the news and were outraged. I thought Bruce would lose it when he watched the video with the fuckhead tearing down Blake. “If this is how it’s going to be, then fuck it, go home and do your thing,” he commented. “I have no choice now.” “Wow,” was all Bob could say.

Protests broke out throughout Europe, which made me feel some better, but I don’t want any violence as what we do isn’t important. Europe doesn’t have a First Amendment, so I’m not going to compare them to the U.S.; however, the crackdown on dissent is worrying as much of Europe doesn’t have a great history with freedom of expression. I shrugged it off and went about our day, as what is done is out of my hands.

Clayton told me that some countries said I can play there because they’re not part of the EU and have no objections. “I told them that it’s not that easy because of the travel involved and such. This was a coordinated effort, Scragg, and it’s time that we stopped playing these games. I think you agree,” he then said. “I sure do, so we’ll head home after this,” I replied. Clayton shook his head while I thought about getting back to my family and farm.

The future doesn’t look all the bright at the moment.

Published in: on June 20, 2018 at 6:31 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Going Home Early 5767

I was awakened early in the morning by Clayton; not by a phone call, but rather, by him beating on my door. I staggered up and saw that he was escorted up to the suite by two hotel security officers, who apologized for the inconvenience. “It’s okay, I know this dingleberry,” I replied. I let the promoter in and I knew immediately that he had some bad news to deliver. “Let’s take a seat at the table, Scragg,” he said in a dour tone.

I made us some coffee before we started our discussion. I then told Clayton to let it all out. “Okay, I’ll make this short and bitter: the European tour has been canceled,” he said, trying to keep from blowing up. “Why?” “It seems that several countries had second thoughts about letting you in, so we decided that it was best to cancel the goddamn thing because it’s not worth the hassle,” Clayton bitterly said. “What spurred this action,” I then asked. “Some EU officials have had a beef with you ever since the tour was scheduled, so they’ve increased the pressure on the countries who were going to let you play. They hate Rory, but they also feel you’re a disruptive influence and too opinionated. They’re also concerned about the potential for violence. They’ll be an announcement today.” “That’s it, never again,” I said. “I know.” “Pretty soon I won’t be able to play anywhere.” “They’ll be mass protests, but it won’t matter; nothing does except bullshit,” Clayton remarked with anger. “Alright, thank you for stopping by.” “I’m sorry, Scragg.” “I’m not, fuck it, I know where I can and cannot play, but shit, that’ll probably change, too.”

I woke up the rest of the crew and told them the news. No one seemed surprised, but their anger grew as Clayton explained the situation according to the EU and certain countries. “Never again,” Rory said emphatically. “Fucking right,” Glen snapped. “They’ll come up with some bullshit reason why they had to do this now, so expect some serious character assassination,” Marty then said. “They cited mainly security concerns and a conflict of principles,” Clayton replied. “Yeah, something negative about us will turn up and then be blown out of proportion,” Marty fired back. “Fuck it, will play here and then go home,” I said. “This is outrageous,” Rory said, trying to contain his rage. “We get home earlier and we’ll never have to worry about going there again,” I replied.

Instead of getting mad, I merely went to breakfast and then went back to bed.

What else can you do after getting crazy news like we just got?

Published in: on June 20, 2018 at 8:15 am  Leave a Comment  
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Metal Man 5766

We all congregated in the courtyard after the meal and talked some smack, especially Jorge, who was still fuming about getting puked on. “You guys have to stop telling the press that this asshole is my son,” he snarled. “Just claim him and be done with it,” Rory replied. “Like hell!” “Shit, I’d kill myself,” Ben said. “You little dick, I ought to stomp your ass right now!” We all laughed it up and told Ben to order more kimchi. “I learned my lesson,” he replied. “So did I, to sit as far away from you as possible,” Jorge added.

Bob and Bruce gave me an update on things back home, which they both said are going well. The said the triplets are adorable and Francesca is growing fast, which made me a tad sad. “Take off next year, Scragg, all this isn’t worth it,” Bob then told me.

He’s right about that.

Bruce then said they both have movies to shoot when they get back. “I play a retired psychiatrist who recognizes the handiwork of one of his former patients and gets involved in the investigation,” he said. “What the title of the movie,” I asked. “Glass Spider.” “Oh shit, wasn’t that a bestseller,” Rory asked. “I guess so, Brian Brunner is directing it. The film was farmed out to us because they wanted it done without any bullshit. I think the original star got caught up in that sex scandal,” Bruce continued. “Congrats, buddy.” “What are you doing, Bob,” Rory asked. My best friend laughed, which caused Bruce to do the same. “I play an old rocker who was credited with the creation of heavy metal. The movie is called “Metal Man,” and it’s a comedy. The crew all fell into hysterics as Bob told us about his outfit. “My character is a waste case with long hair and tattoos.” “Shit, that’s hilarious,” I replied. “Connor May is in it, he plays an effete opera singer who is forced to sing after he insults the benefactors of the Met.” The crew laughed even harder after hearing that. “Oh God, that film is going to be a killer,” Rory screamed. “Robin is doing the soundtrack with help from Cullen.” “Robin is playing heavy metal,” Orville asked. “Yes, and you ought to hear you, she’s amazing.” “I’m not surprised,” I proudly declared. “She’s using that guitar you got her, and she’s putting it to good use. Cullen is using Kevin’s guitar.” “You mean Kev is laying down some wicked riffs,” Rory cracked. “No, in fact, Cullen insulted him by saying that him owning that guitar is a farce,” Bob replied, which made us bust up again.” “Kevin is filming a romantic comedy that sounds like a chick flick from Hell,” Bruce then said. “The Better Half,” I asked. “Yes, and it’s a doozy they say.” “That fuck is a putz,” Rory scoffed before laughing. “Oh yeah, Melvin is in “Metal Man” playing an old metal guitarist who has gone nuts,” Bob then informed us, which started the howls again. “When they told Honey about it, he just shook his head and said that it figures.”

Bruce then showed us some pics of Bob in his metalhead getup.

The crew couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of Bob in a wig, a leather vest, leather pant, biker boots and an earring. He was covered with tattoos and holding a guitar while scowling. “This is the greatest thing ever,” Rory hollered. “Who’s directing this film,” I asked. “Kyle Halstead.” “Good choice, it should be a hoot.” “Oh, I forgot, Cary plays my straight-laced son who is embarrassed by me,” Bob added, which started the gales of laughter all over.” “What’s your character’s name,” I asked. “Arthur ‘Ax’ Anson,” Bob replied. “Oh shit,” Rory yelled out in hysterics.

Bob doing a comedy is a natural progression for him, and I’m confident that he’ll create another memorable character. Bruce’s role sounds fantastic, too, but Bob’s trumps his, and he admits it.

I can’t wait to see the film.

Published in: on June 20, 2018 at 12:48 am  Leave a Comment  
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No Son Of Mine 5765

We went back to the DMZ in the morning to greet some of the troops we missed yesterday. Our visit ended after lunch, and we thanked the soldiers for their service and taking the time to speak with us. Bob and Bruce had a grand time talking with the young men and women in uniform, and they treated the two elder celebrities like rock stars. Rory commented that Bob and Bruce have made a strong connection with young people and are the definition of cool and classy. “I guess with age comes wisdom because those two have it going on and then some,” he added. “I agree, but it’s still surreal to watch it happen. Of course, they earned it by being who they are and showing the youngsters how it is done,” I replied. “Shit, Bob, and Bruce are the coolest cats ever,” Glen remarked.

It’s hard to refute that.

We went back to Seoul and reflected on our experiences at the DMZ before thinking about supper. We all felt blessed that we’re in the position to do what we just did. “For me to get treated like a star at the DMZ is absurd, but I’ll take it nonetheless. I know I ain’t from shit and am lucky to be here, so I’ll remain grateful and keep trying to do better,” Rory said, which summed up the sentiment of the crew.

We found a small restaurant called the Seoul Saloon, which served up Korean dishes, including kimchi, a dish made from fermented vegetables and then seasoned with various spices. I warned the crew about the staple as it is known to be spicy. Some variations aren’t, but I have no idea what they are. I ordered me a side of it with dumplings. The rest of the crew followed my lead minus the kimchi, except Ben, who said he likes spicy food.

We got our food and dug in. The meal was delicious and hit the spot for me. The rest of the guys shared my opinion. We relaxed for a spell and chatted.

I then noticed Ben was looking a tad ragged.

“You okay,” I asked the young man. “I guess, but the kimchi was really hot, and I think I’m burning it up.” “Christ,” Jorge scoffed. “I didn’t think it was that hot.” Jorge rolled his eyes and smirked. “I need to use the bathroom,” Ben then said as he stood up.

A second later, he puked on Jorge’s head.

The enraged security officer leaped up out of the chair and glowered at Ben, who was on one knee. The restaurant staff ran to the table and asked if Ben was okay. “I feel better now, ” he replied. Jorge, maddened by rage, sneered at the young man before finally speaking. “You little punk, you puked all over me,” he seethed. “Sorry, I didn’t feel good.” “I ought to stomp you silly.” “I feel better now.” “Yeah, while I’m covered in puke!” The crew began to laugh hysterically as Jorge tried to contain his anger. “Man, you should have taught your son some manners,” Rory told him. “Is your son okay,” the owner of the joint asked. “He’s not my son!” “Now, Jorge, you can’t disown your blood just because he barfed on your head,” Rory continued. “He’s not my son!” “Give your dad a hug,” Glen told Ben. “You touch me, and I’ll rip your head off!” “I’m not going to touch a beast like you,” Ben fired back. “Why you little punk!” “It’s a just a father-son spat,” Rory told the staff. “I’m glad your son is better,” another staff member told the security officer, who wanted to scream. “Get out of my sight,” Jorge said to Ben, who scurried to the bathroom. “Look at me,” he then said. “That was no way to talk to your son,” Rory cracked. “Rory, I’m going to kick your ass.” “Go get cleaned up,” I told Jorge, who said that he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if he saw Ben at the moment. “He’s a good boy, in fact, he’s a chip off the old block,” Rory continued, which rattled Jorge to no end. “Tell your son that he should try the less spicy kimchi,” a server then told him. “He’s not my son; he’s a punk who I should have stomped even more back when!” “Come on, Jorge, don’t disown your son over a little barfed up kimchi,” Glen replied. The crew laughed while Jorge went to the restroom after Ben walked exited it.

That was an interesting meal.

Published in: on June 19, 2018 at 2:37 am  Leave a Comment  
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