The Year Of The Cock

Happy New Year, Ladies, Gentlemen, Scoundrels & Scoundrellettes!

We here at The Unvarnished Truth pride ourselves on bringing you the most update road adventures of your favorite, all-time ever, number one band. Since we can't actually do that, we present another Punch Drunk Cabaret blog.

 

2017 is The Year Of The Cock -- or, for you poor, humourless prudes, The Year Of The Rooster. 

2016 was much maligned for various reasons. So why dwell on the negative? Let's look forward! And who better to promote looking forward than a rockabilly/roots/swing trio wearing dated duds from days gone by?

This is irony. Also rhetorical. So please, no letters.

 

 

Perfect Pair(ing)

 

Instead of focusing on the last gig of the year, Dec.31, 2016, let's look at it like it's the first show of 2017. There. I feel more positive already!

It was a big, beautiful New Year's Eve blowout in Calgary, Alberta. Home of flames, cowboys and their hats. Since we like sporting snappy chapeaus ourselves, the event was a perfect match!

 

 

The legendary County Line Saloon provided an apt backdrop for our shady, snake oil skullduggery. Like the saloons of old, you could find all manner of characters and stereotypes. Boots & skirts, hats & hairdo's, femme fatales & tall, dark types.... and bosoms. Ample bosoms. It still amazes me that even during the coldest days of a cursed Canadian winter, the ladies still come out, as it were, in all their curvy glory. Now I ain't a religious man but God bless 'em for it!

 

She seemed happier at the time. Did I err in this embrace?

 

This one was definitely happier at the time though the pic belies that somewhat

 

 

It's A Drink

 

This was the first time I've been asked about "trying a horny monkey". Now your ol' Sawbones has seen & heard plenty of strangeness, wickedness and other assorted temptation in his travels, but when a lovely, young lady puts forth a query as loaded as this one.... well, one must respond in kind whilst retaining one's gentlemanly demeanor, of course.

"Try one... I AM one!" was not the response I countered with. Though I was thinking it. By the by, if you're a Curious George type, the horny monkey is a creamy but cheeky shooter... kind of like yours truly! (Editor's Note: Ok, that's quite enough of that.)

 

 I dub this the "Horny Monkey Gang"

 

 

Selective Hearing

 

Bein' that this here venue normally houses country music-type acts, it behooved us to pull out our most rootsy numbers. But fear not.... naturally we blew the hair back of Cowtown patrons with assertive selections like "Halos And Horns", "Knuckles" and "Meat On The Bones". But if you were one of the lucky ducks in attendance, you also heard the two-steppin' stylings of "Pandemonium", "The Immaculate Pompadours" and "Allemand" as well. But try as one might though, ya can't please everyone....

 

Pre-gig Shenanigans I: Cap't Sean E. Watts and Bandmeister Randy B

 

 

Pre-gig Shenanigans II: Sawbones --  Supple hair: check. Tight buttocks: checkarino

 

 

Veteran Sass

 

Now I respect veterans and elderly folks as much as the next fella, but when an intoxicated octogenarian corners you after the first set to berate you on your performance... well, that takes some careful steppin'!

 

"You're playing too fast!"

 

"Slow it the hell down so we can dance to it!"

 

"You won't play the Everly Brothers but you should!" (We did, actually.)

 

These were some of the more family-friendly quotes that I can repeat here. Did I stand up to this drunken old gizzard, defending the honour of my hard-working bandmates with a delicately worded rebuttal? Nope. I let this senior citizen (who has seen many more things than I -- maybe even fought for this country and our freedoms) verbally create a fresh gluteal orifice upon my person.

 

In short, the ol' bugger tore me a new asshole.

 

Trust me, brothers & sisters, it took everything I had to not respond in kind to a pointed, intentional verbal assault from a man of many decades whose very senectitude (as well as my upbringing and good breeding) prevented me from doing something stupid in a public place. Can you imagine the outrage and backlash if I, in my impulsiveness, slapped the old off this guy or bopped him in his bulbous proboscis or, at the very least, kicked the cane out from under him as he looked the other way?

Oh my. The cards and letters we would get! The venom & vitriol directed the band's way because the bass player picked on a defenseless, well-meaning, elderly man! Or the headlines spun in the Calgary rags the next day: 

 

COWARDLY DEMONIC BASSIST BEATS UP ON KINDLY CHRISTIAN CODGER!!

 

Oh yes, dear reader. Believe it would happen. So I bit my lip, took the bullet, ran interference... whatever cliché one uses to describe avoiding gargantuan embarrassment by absorbing an unsavoury tirade. In fact, I thanked him for the advice, for attending the evening and then wished him well.

Amazing that it didn't affect my performance one iota. Perhaps a tad more musical aggression followed, fuelled maybe a little by visions of assaulting a helpless old crony with a small poke in the eye and a tiny spat up the ass. That's all.

Sadly (but happily, according to our legal dep't), no photos of the offending geezer were available. Instead, I offer this photograph of a cute little froggy to offset the psychotic, violent thoughts of the last paragraph.

 

'Tis a pity, as I sometimes believe that some of you tend not to believe the sometimes sensational but always very, very truthful tales woven here. Alas but (and this will be the last time you are witness to this phrase from me as I officially banish it's crutch-like use forever)... it is what it is.

 

 

Good Riddance 2016 And Other Acknowledgements

 

Thanks to our Santa's Lil Helpers: Lisa, Amie & Debi

As well to Chris LeBlanc for doing sound and being a sounding board.

And to you for reading, listening, attending and supporting! Here's to 2017, y'all!!!

 

And that's the unvarnished truth.

 

 

Sawbones