Audience participation time, ladies & gentlemen! Here’s a little poll which, depending on the results, may well spark a new feature on KUR. Thanks for your collaboration…
{democracy:1}
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Meta
Oh, and just to clarify: “Yes, and I’ve recorded some of it.” doesn’t mean you have to have a record deal — it just means you have some recordings of your music on tape/minidisc/…
Me name is Eric Clapton and if I spot any fairy impersonatin’ me and votin’ for #5, right, I will send yer lads me team of loryers, I tell yer! Divvy fans!
Beautiful! God! It’s God! I see God!
Can’t wait for MOWOIIFTM! They have a full disc of me…just ME!!
Yer see, isit? Yer see? There’s already two pricks impersonatin’ me; cease and desist of yor votes, yer bastards! Oi! Stick ’em dahn! Oi!! I’m bloody well callin’ the loryers! Oi! And me personal chicken! Right!
SHE MADE ME DO IT!!
As it happens, I am getting together with some old friends to play at someone’s 25th wedding anniversary in a couple of weeks time, and we’re all a bit rusty not having played ‘in public’ for a while now and we could do with some help. So if you’re free, Eric, give me a call!
I do fiddle with the guitar, though not very well. However, my entire family will testify to me singing horribly in the bathroom.
I also sing along with my freaky CD’s whilst on patrol – in the industrial no-man’s-land, at 3AM, noone can hear you croon……….
Where do I insert the instrument?
NO! DON’T ANSWER THAT!!!!!!
I have a bass guitar waiting for insertion.
I play tenor and alto sax (whereby I insert the mouthpiece into my mouth-hole & drive my neighbors crazy with my improvisations of Sofa #1 & Heavy Duty Judy). Who says jazz is dead?
Yeah, right, ok, right, sixteen Eric Claptons! Honest guv! Now I’m mad! Struth! Mortimer, right, where’s me dog and bone book! Oi! I ‘ave a mammoff team of loryers, right, yer’ll see! Right! I’m bloody well petulant and I’m ‘avin’ a frenzy! Right!
Make that seventeen! Are you hung up?
The Real EC Says: Your comment is awaiting moderation.
Outa site, yeah –listen, uhm, d’you, are you . . .?