|
April
Hello, Marlow here.
Things are
looking up a bit, got some company in here this week. Last
Thursday a little mouse crawled out from behind my radiator and
we are now the best of mates. I have nicknamed him Pod as every
time he opens his mouth he emits an irritating squeak, but other
than that I like him. Not seen much of the ponces lately so I
assume they are away, busy pretending to be musicians.
Time now for this months "Ask Marlow".
Dear
Marlow
"Just came across the site by
accident and it got me thinking, what on earth happened to
‘The Rush’ I am a massive fan of all eighties music and
can remember taping a song about a spirit on the radio or
something by ‘The Rush’ from the Dave Lee Travis show
years ago. I remember seeing the band on top of the pops once and
noticing there were only three of them, which I thought was a
shame. So what happened afterwards, did anyone else join or did
they just stop being famous like loads of other bands from that
era, they were certainly never on Dave Lee Travis again.
It’s a pity really because some of the other eighties bands
who are still big like ABC and the bloke from Spandau Ballet, all
do a massive show at Skegness Butlins every year and me and some
mates go down and stay over. It’s a right good do. I’d
be grateful if you could give me any information on them because
I remember thinking at the time if one or two more people joined
they could probably make it big. Thanks in anticipation."
GL - Scunthorpe
Marlow Says - I bet you’ve never had sex
Dear
Marlow
"Sorry we haven’t seen you for a bit but we are away,
busy pretending to be musicians."
Bravado - South Yorkshire
Marlow Says - Soapy tit wank
Dear
Marlow
YOU CAN BE THE CAPTAIN AND I WILL DRAW THE CHART
SAILING INTO DESTINY - CLOSER TO THE HEART
N.P Toronto
Marlow says - Not that bothered about being the
captain thanks, and you can draw what the fuck you want,
I ain't sailing anywhere while ever I’m chained to this here
radiator, buddy.
Still, thanks for the offer and if ever I escape I’ll be
over for a game of sailors as fast as you can say, “I
don’t half talk some bollocks me” .
And with that over, back now to what seems like another lifetime.
Pin
the donkeys on her tail
I don’t quite remember because I think I had been drinking,
among other things, but it must have been during ‘Roll
the Bones’
when I was suddenly pricked by a bout of conscience.
Fuck me, I must have thought, I have been sponging off these
bastards for the best part of twenty years and I don’t know
the first thing about them.
Beset by drug-induced paranoia and the fact that the free ride
could dry up at any minute, I made a conscious decision
to pretend to be interested in whatever their past might be.
To be honest I wish I hadn’t asked but Pod
insists I tell you because you anoraks might find it interesting,
I fucking didn’t but there you go.
We were stuck in some posh hotel with fuck all to do except watch
porn and amuse Alex. Actually the watching porn
bit wasn’t too bad.
Geddy was the kinkiest bastard I had ever met
and he managed to get his hands on some absolutely stonkingly
filthy gear. Here to the best my memory will allow is a
conversation from earlier that evening.
GEDDY - “I’ve been dying
to get my hands on this fucker for ages.
Cyndi Tyler gives the best head of all the porn bitches and
Johnny Boner really knows how to get stuck in, should be fucking
class”
ALEX - “Ooh look Geddy, that blokes knob is massive!”
GEDDY - “Ha haa, sort the bitch, Johnny”
ALEX - “Oh look Geddy, he’s put it in her mouth, you
can’t have babies like that can you, that’s just
wrong”
GEDDY - “Go on my son”
NEIL - “ALL THE WORLD’S INDEED A STAGE AND WE ARE
MERELY PLAYERS,
PERFORMERS AND PORTRAYERS, EACH ANOTHER’S AUDIENCE BEYOND
THE GILDED CAGE”
GEDDY - “Yes Neil, very erotic, I’m off to the khazi to
knock one out. Laters."
Time
stand still
So, after all that, having put Alex to bed and
witnessing Neil collapse into a corner to
discuss the next album with at best a spider but more
realistically a piece of the carpet he thought he’d grown up
with, I was left to indulge in meaningful conversation with Geddy.
I can only think that I asked him how the Rush
thing had come about and ended up with his fucking life story, so
if you are sitting comfortably.
Geddy informed me that the reason he could do or
play so many things at once was purely down to the fact that he
grew up in a Canadian Circus just outside Montreal. His dad was a
world renowned ‘Lion tamer’ and his mother, as well has
having three tits was a feared bare knuckle fighter (a talent
that he had picked up in no small capacity). Up until the age of
fifteen Geddy had been forecast as ‘the
next big thing’ on the circus circuit.
Three times junior ‘Who Can Do The Most Things At Once’
champion he looked set for a life of superstardom among the
inbred weirdos who find big feet, stupid wigs and balloons
hysterically funny and aren’t offended by the smell of any
kind of shit you can think of. However that all changed after a
freak fire eating accident left him completely without a throat.
To make things worse the tight bastards wouldn’t shell out
for him to see a proper Doctor. The cheapest quack they could
find also happened to be Dyslexic and promptly transplanted him
the throat of an eleven-year-old girl.
He left in humiliation shortly afterwards and after a long streak
of appalling luck which I wont go into found himself in a Toronto
hostel for down and outs, sharing a room with a hopeless drug
addict who for six months Geddy believed was
called Neil Pratt (a name he thought at the time
quite apt, even for someone who would later become the worlds
greatest drummer) The downward spiral had left Ged
in a fit of depression and he said the endless stream of shite
from Neil about how he missed life on Cygnus and
how the future would be run by priests who would ban art and
music had driven him to the brink of suicide.
That all changed one day when Neil swapped the
last toilet roll for what turned out to be the brown square from
somebody’s painting set. Geddy had
threatened to kill him unless he found him something to wipe his
arse on in the next three minutes, so, Neil had
gone out and returned shortly afterwards with the ads page from
next doors Melody Maker. At this point in the conversation Geddy
pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his wallet and placed it on
the table in front of me.
Geddy described it as the thing that had not
only saved his life, but at the time had made him completely
forget that he was absolutely busting for a shit. It was Alex’s
advert from all those years ago, which read like this:
So after pouring a bucket of
water over Neil and promising him the keys to a
nearby acid factory if he took some drumming lessons, the
foundations of history were well and truly laid.
With
that heart warming little story complete and me bored shitless, Geddy
smiled, closed his eyes and fell into a contented sleep, at the
same time I nearly broke my fucking ankle trying to get to the
computer to get the ad on Ebay before he woke up.
£176.50 - there’s one born every fucking minute.
Who's
come to slay the dragon?
Before I go for another month let me tell you about an incident
from the ‘Hold your Fire’ tour. We had just
flown into South Africa to do ‘Sun City’ Geddy
never allowed Neil to travel with anything iffy
because a customs arrest, as well as being bad publicity meant no
show, which in turn meant lost revenue. Needless to say on
arrival priorities were somewhat different to each of the three. Geddy
would busy himself checking equipment, whilst Alex
scoured the Internet for the nearest Theme Park and Neil
frantically tried to make connections. We were staying in a
magnificent lodge on the fringe of the Pilanesberg big game
reserve with our guide Retief. Here is the
conversation shortly after arriving.
NEIL -
“I don’t know where you’ve brought us this time Mr
Lee, but the fucking acid here is amazing, I haven’t even
swallowed this one yet and already I’m under the 
impression
that there are two giraffes and an elephant outside the
window”
GEDDY - “There are
two Giraffes and an elephant outside the window, Neil”
ALEX - “Do you think it would be okay to go and stroke them
Geddy?”
RETIEF - “It is nit a gid idea to ipproach the inimils”
NEIL - “Quick, more, now”
RETEIF - “I dint ipprove of drigs”
NEIL - “Beautiful man, I’m off out to say hello”
GEDDY - “Think about it Neil, you're still making sense.
There really are wild
animals out there”
ALEX - “Oh look Geddy, a Lion”
NEIL (staggering down the garden) - “Here Kitty”
RETEIF - “Whit yir doing is ixtrimely dangiris.”
NEIL - “DON’T TURN YOUR BACK AND SLAM THE DOOR ON
ME”
GEDDY - “Now
he’s out of it”
NEIL (sprinting back) - “No I’m fucking not, I mean it,
don’t shut that bastard door, it’s a fucking
LION!”
RETIEF - “Crizy bistids”
GEDDY - “Best not fuck off just yet then”
Next
month...
a
startling revelation regarding a little known chapter in our
annals known as the "Rush - The Movie" project
and an excerpt from my up and coming best seller.
In the meantime I think it’s time to step up the ‘Free
Marlow’ campaign. If you’re going to a ponces gig at
all this month get hideously drunk and watch the entire set
wearing a stolen road cone on your head, any bother from the
police, just tell them you’re prepared to do time if it
takes a motorway pile up to emphasise the ‘abduction of
talented writers by Rush tribute bands’ crisis currently
gripping the nation, then tell them they are all bent anyway, ask
why they aren’t down town with the rest of the squad
hassling blacks and mention the fact that you and seven of your
mates did his wife last Thursday.
Speak
to you soon
Marlow
