The new millenium had just begun, and I wuz invited to see Def Leppard with a very attractive friend of mine. She'z the biggest Def Leppard fanatick I know. Bin in love with the singer Joe Elliot since highschool, so she had no problem spending 250 bux a pop on two second row tickets. She wanted me to paint a t-shirt on her so she could go topless and get noticed by Joe. Worked for me, and besidez, this girl had dinamite boobz!
I had heard on the radio that it had snowed pretty heavily in Vancouver a couple of dayz earlier. It wuz so bad that they closed down the highwayz and told people to stay home. I knew that Angie lived quite a wayz outta town, so I only had a couple of hourz to paint her boobz. I hoped the weather would hold. (However, I knew it wuz gonna be blue skiez shinin' in my mutha f**kin' world while I wuzza paintin'!)
I got off the ferry and Angie wuz there waiting for me. She wuz still pissed at me for painting up another girl for the KISS show a week earlier. (Hey, I hadta do what I hadta do man!) I got in her car, and did damage control. "Trust me," I told her, "I learned one thing from doin' the her boobz last week: I shouldn't have used stage make-up, I should've used paint! So I brought paint for you. Everything'll be perrrrfect. The other girl... she wuz a test rat." Ang wuz choked, "I wanted to be the test rat, and you're a bastard!" I had my work cut out for me, but I kept my game face on, "Trust me," I told her. "Bastard!" she said back.
I had picked up a newz paper for the ferry ride, and saw an article about this guy who'd hung the English flag upside down, pissing off the English. It wuz ironic, cuz I wuz going to be painting the Union Jack on some boobz that day, and I didn't realize the flag went any particular way. (Tiz funny how theze thingz work out sometimez.)
We arrived at her place, put on a pot of coffee, threw on some old Def Leppard recordz, and she took off her top. It wuz an 80'z teenage boy'z wet dream come true, and I wuz the dork with hiz clothez still on. Oh well, we had serious business to take care of, and I wuz the right tool for the job. I tell ya, it wuz hard to maintain a steady hand with thoze immaculate boobz just inchez from my face!
An hour into my painting, it started snowing pretty bad. I quickend my pace, and put the finishing touchez on her. Ooh la la! She put on an jacket, we got in her car and split. The snow wuz coming at us, like it wuzn't even falling from the sky. We turned onto Highway 101, and no sooner than we got up to speed, we stopped. It wuz bumper to bumper traffic... and nobody wuz moving at all. I turned on the radio, and just like in the moviez the CFOX DJ said, "If you're on Highway 101... you're not goin' anywhere!" Angie screamed az she pounded her fist on the dashboard.
"Don't worry dood, we got lotsa time," I told her, (trying to keep a positive attitude). But I knew thingz weren't lookin' good. The traffic moved maybe ten feet in twenty minutes, and you could feel the tension in the air. "Joe'z gonna miss me!" Angie cried-out loud. Trying to make thingz better I said, "Keep cool. It's all gonna be fine. We just gotta get the f**k off this road!" It wuz 7:15 pm, the doorz we're opening in fifteen minutes, and we were movin' slower than a drunk... crawling home.
CFOX went live to the arena;"We're here at GM Place, and Joan Jett (opening act) iz about to take the stage.... " Angie started stressin' bad, so I told her to drive down the shoulder hoping it would at least get us out of this mess. Az luck would have it, we managed to remove ourselvez from one traffic jam to another. It wuz 8:15 and Joan Jett wuz almost done. And according to the DJ on the radio, she wuz sporting a shaved head, and we were missing it.
Anywayz, the radio said that Def Leppard would go onstage a little later becuz of the snow storm. Now time wuz a little on our side. We took some icey back roadz, and got around pretty much everything in our way. There were carz in snow banks, on front lawnz, everywhere. But not even a major blizzard could get in the way of the love affair between Angie and Joe. We pulled into the underground parking lot of GM PLace at 8:30.
We ran to an elevator, and took it into the arena. We got out on the second floor, and no one even checked our tickets. We just walked right in, and it wuz still during the intermission. We made it. We went down to our floor seats, and I told her to take off her coat. She wuz scared, but I said, "Take the damn thing off, and let's go!" I grabbed her arm and we went for a walk. There were people hootin' and hollerin' at her from the upper level. The damn usherz were even stopping us so that people could take her picture! I'm thinkin' to myself, "Shouldn't they be stoppin' the people from takin' picturez!" It wuz funny man, her boobz had even clouded the security's vision.
I wuz on a mission, cuz I knew, if Angie didn't meet Joe, the amount of disappointment she'd feel, would probably remind her how pissed off she wuz at me about the other girlz boobz and me meeting KISS becuz of them. She'd more than likely rip my f**kin' head off! Az she wuz having one, of many picturez taken, I noticed an older roadie at the side of the stage opposite from where our seats were. I took her over to the old guy and said, "Hey! Look at theze (pointing to her boobz), she'z her for Joe. Where iz he?" The old guy kinda shook hiz head and said, "Wha?" So I told him with a firm-'I know what-the fuck I'm doin'-tone of voice, "She'z here for Joe. Go get him." The guy got up and said, "Okay, hang on." Angie wuz like, "What's he doing?" And I said, "You're gonna meet Joe. Relax." The guy came back and told us it wuz to close to showtime, but maybe afterwardz it could happen. I told him where we were sitting, and we went back to our seats.
Many more photoz were taken, and by the time we got to our seats, I'm guessing the old guy had radio'd hiz buddies, cuz they knew that we were coming! We sat down, and everybody around us wuz blown away by the tremendous boobz, (and my bang-up paint job of course!). We weren't in our seats for more than two minutes when another roadie started to wave Angie over. She hezitated and asked me, "What should I do?" "Go meet Joe!" I told her, (az I gave her an encouraging shove).
She went backstage, and everyone around me started talkin'. "Whoa-dude!" "Iz that your girlfriend?" "Doez your sister wanna go on my shoulderz?" It wuz quite humourous. When she came back, she wuz so exstatic. "I got to meet Joe! I met them all! I get to go onstage with them!" I just knodded my head and said, "See I told you it'd work out. What'd he say to ya?" "Nice boobz!" she said. I slapped an imaginary high five to Joe.
The lights went out, and the show started. They opened with Rock Rock til you Drop!. I hadn't heard that song in yearz! The band smiled at her az the show went by. I patted myself on the back for a job well done.
When it came time to where she wuz suppozed to go onstage, the roadie never came and got her. She started to worry, "May be they forgot about me!" The next song started, and eight other girlz came out onstage. Angie wuz gettin' bummed and said, "They totally forgot about me!" I told her, "There'z no way they could forget about thoze boobz! They're probably saving you for your own song." Then az if it wuz hiz cue, the roadie came out and told her that she'd be onstage by herself during Photograph. She wuz pumped.
A few songz went by, they took her backstage. The people around me were all wondering, "Where'z she going?" I smiled and said, "Wait and see." The lights went to black, then a huge Union Jack back drop came down from the lighting rig hangin' behind the band. The lights came up az they went into the intro riff of Photograph, and they all had Union Jack guitarz! The drumz kicked in, and out danced Angie onto the stage. The crowd went nuts, and I knodded my head like I knew it all along.
It wuz my brightest moment when Joe Elliot sang to her, "You've got some kind of hold on me, you're all wrapped up in a mystery..." I gave her my two thumbz up, and I felt the godz pat me on the back this time.
After the show we got to go backstage. We were led to a hospitality room, and the other eight girlz from the show were there az well sitting at a large round table. One of the road crew came in and said that Phil (guitarist) would be there shortly. We hung out, and I couldn't help but overhear the 'Girlz of the Round Table' converstaion. It wuz my belief, that after 10 minutes of their useless jabber, they hadn't a full brain between the eight of 'em!
Phil Collen of Def Leppard came into the room. and immediately one of the chicks said, "Who are you?" (in a dumb blonde kinda way) "I'm Phil," he said in hiz thick English accent. "Where'z the other guy?" she asked. He looked at me with a funny look then said, "Which one?" "The other guitar-guy," she responded. "Who, Vivian?" he said. (meaning Vivian Cambell) "No! The other guy!" she said laughing az the rest of the girlz looked az if they were watching a tennis match between the two of them. "Do you mean Steve?" Phil said (looking at me again in disbelief to what wuz goin' on). "Yeah, were'z he?" she asked az my head hit the table in utter amazement. "He'z dead luv," Phil said almost laughing at her stupidity. "No not him! The other guy?" she said again. "You mean Pete? The guy I replaced?" he said. The 'Girlz of the Round Table' all had this look of 'yeah, where iz whoever the hell she iz talking about?' Then the dumbass finally said, "No! Where'z Izzy?" My head hit the table again az I pointed at her saying "you're fired," and Phil said in amazement, "You've got the wrong band luv! That's Guns n' Roses, I'm in Def Leppard." I just shook my head, and the rest of the girlz looked confuzed.
Great show. Great time. Dumb rocker chicks. Perfect.
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