You may have heard these before,
but I recently resigned from a band who were all perfectly nice people, but who just occasionally had some slightly, erm, 'special' moments. Of note:

1. The guitarist couldn't work out how to connect an amplifier to a speaker. After turning the amplifier on and fiddling around with the knobs and getting no sound, he looked over to me and said,
"Man," (I was always addressed as "Man" for some reason, as though they were West Coast Hippies or something. Two of them were former boarding school lads from West London)
"Man, do you know how to work these things?"
I went round the back of the amplifier and looked at the connection. He'd managed to work out that one end of the cable went into the lone socket on the back of the speaker cabinet, but there were a lot of sockets on the back of the amplifier. Granted, this made it harder to choose the correct socket, but you know what? Conveniently, Marshall Amplification Ltd were good enough to label them all! Now, surely only a complete cretin would just feel for a random socket and shove the cable in, hoping for the best? Surely? It does not take a great leap of the imagination to look for the one labelled "SPEAKER OUT."

2. I arrived first at a venue one night and the singer followed about ten minutes later. He proffered his leather jacket to me and asked,
"Man, do you think you can fix this?"
It was one of those annoying occasions where the zip's toggle had started to go up its travel but the teeth weren't meshing behind it, and now it was stuck about halfway up the jacket, with the zip open either side of it. Such tragedy.

I did what any sensible person would do, straightened the zip, pulled firmly on the toggle and returned it to its original starting point. Tragedy averted.
"Aww, thanks man. I was worried I was going to have to cut it off or something, but then I thought, 'I'll give it to Crow - he's practical.'"

More to follow if anyone gives an airborne fornication.
(LongJohnBaldry, Wed 3 Aug 2011, 9:53, 2 replies, latest was 15 years ago)

Thing is
neither of those stories were about the drummer, so I think you're making them up. Or are you saving the one about where you have to give him a rubber bone to stop him gnawing on his hi-hat?
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Wed 3 Aug 2011, 10:03, Reply)

Oh dear.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 3 Aug 2011, 10:04, Reply)