OK, instead of a stock photo, this time the real thing - your humble narrator, happily decapitated, wielding his glorious old candy red Fender Jazzmaster….oh yeah!
And the worst of it is - a local Hiroshima store has a sexy Fender Jazz bass going for a song…..can I resist?????
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You need to drill a hole in it. Make the hole big enough to get yer pennis in there. Smooth the wood around the periphery of the new hole, so you don’t get any splinters in the foreskin of your ya-ya. Next, you need to take that guitar down to Parco’s scuzzy play lot. Skip teaching to do this one afternoon. Pre pay a dwarf and an Hiroshima City worker to undress, at the plaza, and to begin copulating. As they [naughty word brushed out by The Central Scrutinizer], male/female male/male/ female/female Jimmy/Timmy whatever…step up to the artificial green grass turf below, said dwarf and government city worker, and begin to play some of those “Shab shabba shabba doo wa/Shab Shabba shabba dooo WAAAAAA!” jazz chords in rhythm to the [ripped out by The Central Scrutinizer] before you. As for the hole? How the [crudity taken out by The Central Scrutinizer] do I know what to do with a hole that big? You don’t have to actually put a real erect pennis through it. You can utilize a pink rubber facsimile with a certain ECC oba-chan’s anal residue rubbed on it for the extra rough solo action on that guitar, and on that green grass mat. When the copulating and your solo is over, approach the green grass mat with heavy smelly marker, and on that mat, MAKE THE LINE! Tell the audience, “I MAKE THE LINE!” Shout also, “Whoah Baby Baby, I cream your danish, you make my line. I end the nightmare of New Castle on Tyne. You bring the quimmy, and I’ll bring the jerk, You take out the candles and we get to work, yeah yeah yeah baby baby!” Finish the gig by disowning the dwarf. Tell the pigs you had nothing to do with her. That your thing’s botany, stunning suits from Aoyama, and noodily jazz. (maybe even kick that dwarf, and holler, “I disown you, you little [naughty parts chopped off by The Central Scrutinizer]! Get IT! It’s over between you and me, you loveless little ferret [erased by The Central Scrutinizer]!” Lastly, put out an old barbeque tin from Iwakuni that at least twenty marines have [unseemliness make good The Central Scrutinizer] in. Collect busker fees in 100 yen coins with this can. When it’s full of coins and spunk, take the whole crowd assembled over to Mr. Donuts ([Anglo-Saxon epithet scrubbed off by The Central Scrutinizer] Starfux, man) And go up to the pixies at the counter with like twenty hungry fans behind you, and shout, “I got twenty hungry people here! What are you willing to do about that little missy?!” And then dump spunky coins all over glass counter and demand/implore the staff to treat you and your possie to a mean mountain of OLDO FASHIONEDO ringjob twisty donuts with caramelly underbits and sweet surprises. Yup, that’s what I would do with a spiffy guitar like that.
Comment by yourfriendJesus — 8 May, 2008 @ 11:14 am
Nurse! Nurse! Up the dosage, please!
Comment by The Central Scrutinizer — 8 May, 2008 @ 11:29 am