Gimmie A Ticket For An Aeroplane
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13 Mar 2008 ›
10:45am
Bloke and I have decided that since his tourapalooza shows no sign of stopping, I’m going to start flying out to meet him on the road a few weekends a month. He just sublet his pad and can now afford to spring for my airfare. I’m so psyched, and am already planning outfits down to the skivs. I mean who wouldn’t enjoy a stint as long distance mistress? God knows I came to serve. Woohoo!
Yes, yes. I know all about the realities of tour. I realize that what really awaits me is just a bunch of stinky boys who rarely look up from the video game they’ve been paying for the past 16 hours in the crusty tour bus lounge that’s always filled with that special rock-fart-weed smell (which takes weeks to wash out of my hair), empty Red Bull cans, and a thick layer of cheeto dust. But whatever. Do not kill my buzz y’all! I’m sure there will be small breaks where we can crash in shitty motels (God knows I love me a sleazy motor lodge) and attack each other. I miss him like the dickens. There, I said it. Are you happy?
