Jump to content
aberdeen-music

Things you should know about Aberdeen-Music


Guest Gladstone

Recommended Posts

Post the 10EW one too if you can please! :)

You dont want to know what i had to do to get this....

JJ (10 Easy Wishes):
It was Oriana who answered the door. We’d been sitting - all seven of us - in the GCG living room sharing anecdotes from our winter break, which this year had taken us to Faliraki. After six months of endless sun, sea and semen, our pussies were primed and raring to come, as another season of groupie-ing beckoned. ‘I don’t know how the press got it into their heads that we were club reps’ laughed Oriana. ‘Anyway, it’s not as if we were the only ones getting down and dirty - those beach boys reciprocated all right… hang on, I’ll get it.’

‘Hi’ said the small boy standing on the landing. ‘I’m JJ. I was just wondering if I could, y’know, borrow a cup of sugar.’ He looked at Oriana sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry but we’re totally out of sugar’ replied the smooth seductress. ‘However’ she added, plunging a finger between her pouting lips and sucking on it longingly, ‘we do have something sweeter you could have…’

As JJ tentatively took a seat in the living room and gazed in awe at the cornucopia of female flesh surrounding him, it was hard to tell who was more excited - 10 Easy Wishes’ frontman or the girls themselves, whose pussies were aching for some rockstar action. In the end, the issue was settled by a trickling sound swiftly followed by a dark wet patch that formed on the crotch of JJ’s trousers. ‘I-I’m sorry’ he stuttered. ‘It’s just that when I get excited I w-w-w-wee!’ He hung his head in shame. Brooke slowly withdrew her right hand from her panties and eyed the pathetic figure with disgust. ‘Look JJ - you came here to fuck, and fuck you will!’ At that, she picked up the diminutive singer and carried him to the bathroom, whereupon she set about removing his wet clothes and hosing down his trembling, naked body using the shower head. Ten minutes later, a pee-pee-free JJ emerged from the bathroom and, unbelievably, set about shagging the GCG collective, refusing to cum until they had all been satiated.

‘Hey, fuck you!
sang JJ as he finished off groupie number six, the buxom Becka, with a rabbit punch to the back of the head. What a man! Forget what you’ve seen on Rodeo Wrecks, for we can assure you that some Bulls charge when they see pink. This is one gore-ing you won’t see on Reality TV!

Our admiration for JJ would surely have been cast in solid baby batter had the doorbell stayed silent and groupie number seven got her chance.
Did you bring some friends, JJ?
asked a still unsatisfied Oriana. Framed in the doorway were a naked Adam and Tom, or was it a naked Tom and Adam?
Hey boys, come to join the party?
asked Oriana as she squeezed her thighs together in anticipation.
I
ve been waiting all day for my beef injection
.’

The bassist and drummer surveyed the scene in amazement, before Tom turned to Adam (or was it the other way round?) and exclaimed,
‘What a selfish bastard!’ Turning towards JJ, he continued ‘
Did you even bother getting our sugar? How are we supposed to finish making our fucking soufflé?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

one in here for Eupraxia

Ben: ‘I don’t imitate other frontmen’ said Ben, flicking Ian Watkins’ fringe from out of his eyes. ‘I’ve developed my own technique; it’s a combination of hardcore and emo.’ ‘How does that work?’ asked Brooke, whose interest in music was surpassed only by her interest in musicians. ‘Well’, explained Weapon’s stylised singer, ‘First I treat the girls to some hardcore sex and then I confiscate their school dinner money and send them packing.’ What for? ‘Well that’s where the emotional part comes in’ smirked Ben. ‘There’s nothing sexier than a girl who’s bleeding mascara.’ ‘Sounds more like screamo to me’ shuddered Brooke. Ben shrugged indifferently. ‘Dude, I didn’t ask for it to be like this… what can I say - my weapon has a mind of its own!’ And he wasn’t lying. For the next hour, Ben sat back and chain-smoked Silk Cut while his autonomous cherry-picker levered itself inside Brooke’s cervix and began carrying out routine maintenance. ‘Oh my god!’ she screamed as a bulge suddenly appeared in her lower abdomen. Seconds later, there was a tearing sound as Brooke’s intestines were tossed into the air in a flurry of blood and cum, propelled upwards by the head of Ben’s engorged penis. Poking out of the ravished groupie’s chest like a periscope, it proudly surveyed the human wreckage. ‘You fuck! I’m gonna need reconstructive surgery after this!’ shrieked Brooke. ‘Chill, bro’ laughed Ben, taking another draw on his cigarette. ‘Scars are just memories… and you sure as hell ain’t gonna forget your first time with Benny-boy. Deesc!’

Johnny Lucifer: ‘Haven’t I seen you before?’ asked Isla, surveying the flaccid cunt-cleaver cradled between Johnny’s thumb and first finger. ‘Certainly not!’ insisted Johnny. ‘You can’t have because I fucked you doggy-style last time, plus you made me turn the lights out, remember?’ ‘I’d rather not’ shuddered Isla. ‘However you are the rockstar and I am just your super sucker, so let’s go round again.’

‘By Lucifer, that’s devilishly hot!’ exclaimed Isla as a tsunami-sized wad of jism whizzed past her cheek and imbedded itself in the pillow. ‘My cock rocks!’ shouted a clearly delighted Johnny. ‘Would you like to see me make it look like a vagina?’ ‘Er… I think I’ll pass on that one’ winced Isla. ‘Though if you want to make yourself useful, you can reach into that drawer and put the extra-small condom in it to good use.’ ‘Sorry’ protested the rocker, ‘but I don’t like johnnies.’ Isla nodded. ‘Finally, there’s something we can agree on!’

Guts On Fire of North East Scotland: ‘Hi, I’m Stuart Maxwell, manager of Guts On Fire of North East Scotland’ beamed the self-important salesman stationed outside the GCG front door. ‘I am the sole representative of the UK’s premier art-rock octet and I challenge you to find a better band with the words ‘Guts On Fire’ in their title. ‘Er…’ frowned a dazed-looking Ashley, ‘well there was that one band we fucked last week… what were they called again, Isla?’ ‘Oh, you mean Guts On Fire of South East Scotland?’ queried the GCG stunner. ‘Yeah they were OK, but I think they were just a tribute band.’ ‘In that case, what you girls need is the real deal’ gushed Stuart. ‘May I present to you the one, the only… Guts On Fire of North East Scotland!’ Stepping aside with a flourish, he proudly gestured towards the empty hallway behind him. ‘Come on boys, don’t be shy!’ ‘But.. there’s no one there!’ exclaimed Ashley, peering over Stuart’s shoulder. ‘Ah yes… well’ spluttered Stuart. ‘I can explain everything. What I forgot to mention was that the boys haven’t quite gotten round to forming a band yet, but certainly on paper they’re gonna be huge. A1 paper, anyway.’ ‘So what exactly are we supposed to do with these Lost Boys of yours?’ asked Isla impatiently. ‘I need less patter and more baby-batter!’ ‘Well the reason I came here today’ began Stuart ‘was because I thought that you lovely ladies could teach the band to be a bit more ‘experimental’ shall we say. If I was to slip you girls some complimentary passes to the Guts’ next gig, at Gavfest, do you reckon you could give the lads a glowing review? It would work wonders for their self-confidence!’ ‘When exactly is this gig?’ asked Ashley incredulously. ‘Well we haven’t actually got a date pencilled in yet’ explained Stuart ‘but when it does happen, believe me it will be the event of 2008!’ ‘Fuck Gavfest!’ shouted Isla. ‘What I need is a vag-fest! And never mind Guts On Fire, how about setting my clit on fire? I want less talk and more tongue!’ At that, the groupie grabbed Stuart Maxwell by the hair and thrust his face against her crotch, forcing aside her panties to reveal a glistening meat-eater. ‘Mblrgh, mlnm mlnm’ protested Stuart, but Ashley wasn’t listening. ‘We’ve fucked a few fresh-faced ones in our time’ she commented to Isla. ‘But this guy has got to be the Hookers’ green number one!’

Hog (Spike Pile Driver): ‘You don’t mind if I use a sex-aid?’ enquired Hog as he reclined on the GCG four-poster bed. ‘Sure’ smiled Becka. ‘Go ahead’. Dildos, love-beads, inflatable sheep; we thought we’d seen it all in our time as Granite City Groupies. We were somewhat taken aback, however, when Hog produced a photograph of Devin Townsend, which he proceeded to tape to Becka’s back. ‘May I ask what you’re doing?’ queried the startled groupie. But Hog wasn’t listening. His dilated pupils were focussed intently on heavy Devy Townsend, as if in some kind of religious stupor. ‘Come on Dev, it’s just me and you now, big boy’ he whispered. ‘Let’s do this!’ A few grunts later and Hog stopped pile-driving Becka’s axe-wound just in time plant a thick wad all over his favourite axe-man. ‘Excuse my impetuousness’ he apologised ‘but I just couldn’t help myself, Dev. You’re such a strapping young lad!’ ‘Can I go now?’ asked Becka, peering cautiously over her shoulder. ‘Certainly not!’ roared Spike Pile Driver’ s bald one. ‘I want you - and the other bitches - to suck my cock and balls before I go. Simultaneously. They don’t call me Hog for nothing!’

Corn (Hot Mangu): Fucking local rockstars is like taking E’s. Sometimes you’ve got to do a dozen just to get a good one, and by that point you’re too fucked to care anyway. Still, if you wanna be a groupie you can’t pick and choose - you just have to swallow whatever comes your way, be it a mitsu, a speckled dove or a dog-worming tablet. When Corn burst into the GCG apartment and gave a holla to ‘all the bitches in tha house’, we weren’t sure if he was here to dance or to de-worm us. Either way, we knew it would be a vicious come-down.

Corn: ‘Yo bitch, what the fuck is wrong, don’t you wanna suck my schlong?’

GCG: ‘Do we have to? You’re minging.’

Corn: ‘Dese ho’s better back tha fuck up, it’s corn-dawg, wassup? If you talkin a me then get down on yo’ knees.’

GCG: ‘I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong address, Mr C. Dog. The Immigration Office is at the end of the corridor on the left.’

Corn: ‘Look, for fuck’s sake min! I’m trying a practise my freestylin for the Torry East Coast MCin competition, and you’re just nae helping!’

GCG: ‘So what you’re saying is if we put up with your rude-boy raps then we won’t have to fuck you?’

Corn: ‘It’s Whitey White on the mic, though my grandad was Ike, I don’t beat up deese ho’s cos I know it ain’t right. They’re the Cheech to my Chong when they toking dis bong, now I’m ending this rhyme cos it’s gone on too long.’

GCG: ‘Wow. That was so lame we‘ve changed our minds. Take off your clothes and shut up.’

Corn: ‘You want me to shut the fuck up while I fuck this track up and you back the fuck up or get smacked the f…. Hang on, how did Fred put it?’

GCG: ‘Ugh… we just can’t do anything with you. Face it Corn, you’ll always be an Oreo, so just keep on rolling. You put the poo in poontang, the dud in dude, the Bo in Selecta, and the me in GCG.’

Corn: ‘But there is no me in GCG!’

GCG: ‘Damn right. And that’s how it’s gonna stay.’

At that, a dejected-looking Corn ‘Dawg’ was escorted off the premises with his tail firmly between his legs. Ecstasy? It was more like a bad trip.

Avoid if… You think ‘splat metal’ is a new field of dildonics

Inveigle if… a hotchpotch of incompatible styles is music to your ears

  • Upvote 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The last page of that thread is brilliant, good old ben always came up with crackers in those situations.

Can't believe I just read all that.

It amuses me that Ben's dig at everyone at the end included the accusation that I act like some kind of scene elder because I know who Red By Choice were. A band I was actually in (but then everyone seemed to be at one point).

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Who are these loose women? Are they still around, or did their vaginas shrivel up from the countless infections and ram-raidings they were on the receiving end of? I can only imagine their lady drive-ways now look like they have been turned inside out and been giving a chinese-burn.

I can't tell if you believe those posts or if you're taking the piss. damnit! that chinese-burn line is gold though. rancid, horrid gold.

i have a hunch who wrote them, don't think it was any actual girls. but my hunch could be wrong.

  • Upvote 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

I've never seen that thread before. Epic. Ah Rune, sweet, naive Rune. Loved this from Chris:

"I think it could be a worthwhile thread if you stopped posting on it"

Who the was Rune anyway? Were he and Bladeola the same person? One of them was Ben Weapon, right?

I'm thinking of ending all my posts with "lol wb".

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 months later...
Can't believe I just read all that.

It amuses me that Ben's dig at everyone at the end included the accusation that I act like some kind of scene elder because I know who Red By Choice were. A band I was actually in (but then everyone seemed to be at one point).

Indeed, so was I. First gig I ever played in Town was with RBC in Triple Kirks with RATAMS. Whatever happened to Sid and Pete?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

×
×
  • Create New...