My Band

If I’ve ever had anything that could be described as an “ambition”, it would be to start my own rock band. I plan to do this in a few years. I’m currently in Step One of my endeavor -- the “Long Hair”.

The problem with me is that every few months, in a moment of insanity, that I am unable to account for later, I have a haircut. The bigger problem is that on these occasions when razor meets hair, I tend to go all out. This means coming out of the hairdressers with little more than stubble on my head. This is then followed by months of regrowth, and then another moment of insanity to be regretted later. This time I’m determined -- no cutting of hair.

After a few months, when my hair is suitably on its way to rock stardom, I’ll move quietly on to Step Two -- the “Tattoo”. This is where I get myself tattooed, in case you’re wondering. It’s hard to settle on exactly what all I want tattooed, but I believe it will be my back and both my arms. I’m guessing this phase will take another few months.

Step Three -- the “Addiction”. After I’m all tattooed up, I’m going to have to pick a real addiction -- cigarettes, alcohol, marijuana, sex, cocaine etc. The choices are plenty. I’ve always maintained that a rock star without an addiction is like a soda without the fizz. I’m currently addicted to my computer. That has got to change if I want to avoid getting my rock star ass laughed at. I look forward to this stage very much.

Step Four -- the “Band Name”. What good is a band if it doesn’t have a cool name? I’m really going to have to rack my brains to come up with something that’s both good and hasn’t already been taken. Knowing how lackadaisical I am when it comes to mental effort, this might take longer than expected. However, I shall not rest until I have the perfect band name.

After all this is done, all that will remain are the small matters of learning how to play some instrument and then finding the remaining members of the band. I reckon I should be done in about forty-three years.

Some people might think that a suckily-named, functional band whose members are vice-free, have short hair and clean skin, is better than a weed-smoking idiot with long hair and tattoos, sitting alone and racking his brain for the perfect name. I am not some people.