Whiplash halitosis blues
Whilst working at a rehearsal studio complex in Greenwich in the 80's we had regular bookings from demi-famous types. The disapointing ones:

King Kurt, who turned up on time, were very disciplined, worked very hard, and were stone cold sober constantly. Rather hoped they'd trash the place, especially after my boss made me swathe everything in plastic in case they had a gunge fight.

Squeeze. The other end of the scale. Regularly turned up late, tuned up for an hour and then went to the pub for three hours. I had a deep respect for these 'local heroes' and whilst their slack working habits were a bit of a let down Jools Hollands 'dead rat' stink breath was totally lethal. Gilson was a total gent though, and let me intefere with his shakers.

Nena. Y'know older readers, 99 luftballons and all that. A bad tempered Kraut dog in the flesh. I had quite fancied her prior to that.
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Sun 28 May 2006, 14:21, Reply)