Tag: rock

Hope I Die After I Get Old

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That's the spirit!I’m looking forward to being old. Life so far has not been as exciting as I hoped. I was too weird to have enjoyed a flirtatious carefree youth and I’m spending most my adult life sitting in traffic queues and being thrown out of cocktail bars. I’ve decided my twilight years are going to be the best of my (fast diminishing) life. I’ve only got 50 years to wait! Well, 45. All right, maybe closer to 40. Bugger.

I hope my family dumps me at the doorstep of the local seniors’ home the day I reach admission age. Senior homes may be like prisons with flowery curtains, but think of the benefits! Three square meals a day, lots of TV to watch and uniformed helpers to cater to your every need.

I imagine by the time I’m old they will have senior homes in space – Heaven’s waiting room in the heavens. Being weightless will help us old folk move around easily and I’m sure the boffins will have invented some sort of magic space lemonade to keep us fit and regular.

Me and my old-timer chums can float around the TV lounge all day watching remastered 3D holographic movies from the old days. We’ll hovver around sucking Werther’s Original Magic Mushrooms (drugs will of course be legal by then) and watch classics like SAW IIV and Debbie Does Denmark.

Hopefully boffins will have invented an interactive virtual reality pod too. We can indulge our fantasies and have some senior sexy time with holographic stars. Oohh virtual George Clooney, just wait until I get out of this prosthetic brace and we’ll have some fun!

Tiggy in 100 years. I hope.Pumped up on magic space lemonade and as many Werthers Originals we can get our wrinkly hands on, life will be one big senior home house party (at least until bedtime at 7pm).

Old Mr. Jay-Z Johnson in his pimped out wheelchair can provide entertainment with ditties from the good old days. “Oh, ma bitch! Ma Ho! Shake ur Ass, bitch!” he will croak as his blinging gold false teeth rattle inside his bony head.

Maybe devilish geriatrics Mr. Rose and Mr. Slash will wake from their afternoon naps and treat us to some old-fashioned guitar shredding and arthritic-foot-tapping rock tunes. As long as they keep the noise down.

We have nothing to fear from old age! It’s going to be a fogey-fest of liquid meals, happy pills and moaning about how today’s youth don’t know they’re born, the old days were much better. First one to the stair lift gets a go with Virtual George!


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Tiggy’s Old Timer Crush Club

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My boys! Oh, how lucky is Tiggy.

It’s nice to be complimented by men, isn’t it? Unless you’re a straight man. Although don’t knock what you haven’t tried.

And I do get compliments. A twinkling smile and a charming “You look nice today!” or “I’d really like to bang you!” brightens up my day no end. Unfortunately, most of the men doing the complimenting are usually quite mature…

Oh, What A Lovely War

The beer goggles are on!I was sitting at a bar hoping to catch the eye of the hot barman when an elderly gentleman sat next to me and ordered a Guinness. He seemed innocent enough. You know those old guys who can drink endless pints of Guinness and talk for hours about nothing? Well, he talked for hours about nothing. His false teeth were wearing down at an alarming rate. I smiled sympathetically, hoping he’d clear off so I could share some quality time with the barman.

But then the old devil dropped his killer chat-up line like a doodlebug on a bus queue. “My dear, you are the image of my first love… she died in the Blitz”. Oh nice. Did I look like her before or after the Blitz?

Then I felt a bony hand on my knee. Ever had one of those evenings?

Old Charlie hanging with his birds.Dead Pigeon Fancier

The boozy company party was no better. I had invested my evening chatting up lovely Rick from Marketing only for him to slope away (well, flee) with some pathetic excuse about having to vomit in the washroom. His place was instantly filled by Charlie the janitor, who swooped on me like a gnarly old crow with a pacemaker.

Initially Charlie behaved like a perfect gentleman, bringing me Bacardi Breezers on demand and entertaining me with stories about the Korean War, garbage disposal systems and the number of dead pigeons he’d pulled from the water tank.

Then I saw that decrepit, garbage-stained hand reaching towards my knee. I decided to join Rick in the washroom.

That was him! I'd know those wrinkles anywhere!Rockin’ the Joint

My latest wrinkly Romeo was a guitarist in a rock band that played at my local bar the other night (maybe I should stop going to bars). Under the impression he had the same rock star pulling power as Mick Jagger he slid up to me, flashed a smile and demanded the barman give me a beer. I’d prefer the barman gave me something else, but never mind.

This old rocker had obviously ingested many substances in his lifetime and he reeked of weed. There’s always room for another stoned, drunk man in my crush club! Rather than bore me senseless with tales of the road he just swigged his beer, put his skinny arm around me and asked if I wanted to go home with him. I wasn’t aware that seniors’ homes allowed visitors after midnight.

The barman was laughing too hard to help to this damsel in distress. Oh dear, I was having another one of those evenings.

I guess it’s nice to know there are men with breath in their body (just) that still find me attractive. That most of my suitors are either old, drunk, stoned or frequently all three is less flattering.

Let’s just hope they’re still interested when I hit 70…

They behave like perfect gentlemen until the lights go down over at Humor-Blogs.com


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Heavy Metal Love – Hair Bands Rock!

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The Hair Metal Gods are watching! And Rocking!

I went to my first hair band gig last week, admittedly 20 years late. The aging rockers put on great show with their squealing guitars and screams of “Are you ready to ROCK?” Yes we were. Happily the middle-aged metal masters left their skin-tight spandex pants at home.

But when I was a kid, we treated those Hair Metal Gods with contempt and rejected their call to Rock. With their flying V guitars, bouffant hair and cheesy anthems, they looked more like psychotic Barbie dolls than hard-lovin’ macho rockers. Trying to be cool, we turned to The Smiths and those shoegazing guitar bands DJ John Peel told us to like. But did we make the right choice? Let’s consider the facts…

1. Style

Hair band: Musicians and fans alike dressed like it was Gay Parade Day every day, with glittering spandex, wild makeup, lumpy crotches and enough hairspray to destroy what’s left of the ozone layer completely.

Excuse me ladies/gents, which way to the Parade?

Indie: Only grey baggy clothes were permitted. We were too sad and lonely to bother brushing our hair. What was the point? No-one cared. Only Morrissey styled his hair, but he was probably doing it, like, ironically.

Spacemen 3 - No sparkly pants for them!

2. Lyrics
Hair band:

Rock You! Yeah! Woo! Not you fuckin' indie kids though.Gimme an R! O! C! K!
Whatcha got? ROCK!
And whatcha gonna do?
ROCK YOU!

(Rock You – Helix)

Every lyric was about being ready to Rock, how hard they Rocked and how they were going to Rock all night. Other themes included hot ladies wearing lacy undies (also Rocking), rides in fast cars (while Rocking) and parties full of hot ladies, fast cars and Rock.

Indie:

We only laugh when we see our bank balances.And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such as heavenly way to die
*sob*

(There Is A Light That Never Goes Out – The Smiths
Sobbing – Tiggy)

All songs had to contain references to grief, grey skies, gravestones, girls in graves and gravy. Oh, maybe not gravy. That would have been way too colourful.

3. Gigs

Explosions! Women! Burning! Crotches!

Hair band: Every gig was packed full of explosions, fireworks, flaming guitars and thrusting crotches. Hot ladies in lacy undies would try to have sex with the drummer. While he was still playing.

Whatever you do, don't look up!

Indie: Every gig was full of kids shuffling and staring at the floor. Girls in the front row swooned over the skinny singer hoping he may cast a shy glimpse their way. Even the haze of marijuana smoke failed to lift our spirits because we weren’t supposed to be happy, dammit. And if we looked stoned and happy, we were just being, like, ironic.

4. Parties

Hair band: Ozzy and Axl’s barbeques must have been one awesome metal meat-feast with all those mangled bats, doves and pigs. Champagne poured by hot ladies in lacy undies! More coke than Amy Winehouse could shove up her nose in a million years!

Booze! Coke! Women! And it's not even brunch time!

Indie: Meat is murder, right? And you can’t eat when your heart is broken. Nothing but menthol cigarettes and a big bowl of despair kept everyone going. Besides, we had to keep skinny.

We're very sad.

Realizing I made a huge musical error in my youth, I have decided to make amends with the Hair Metal Gods and head down the Road of Rock. It looks like so much more fun!

Having said that, these lacy undies are killing me…

 

Sparkly spandex crotches are order of the day over at at Humor-Blogs.com

And don’t forget to head over to the spanking NEW humorbloggers.com – more fun than a boozy metal pool party! Probably!


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Tiggy’s Word Of The Day – REM

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Shiny Happy People

      Athens Rockers REM are absolutely delighted to hear they’ve been featured on Tiggy’s Word Of The Day.

8. REM

Vegetarian band enjoyed by the elderly.

In the early days REM played gigs in greasy pizza joints and were paid in discarded crusts and shredded cheese. The following week they landed an $8 billion recording contract and bought a helicopter.

Interesting fact: lead singer Michael Stripe is a certified Taxidermist (but steers clear of doing fish as he can’t quite get the eyes right).

It is State Law in Wisconsin to play Everybody Hurts at funerals.


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