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Don't Screw With a Man's Clothes (470 hits)

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Rating: -0.25 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)

Submitted by Choir (View user info) at 2006-08-14 11:57:54 EDT

Yngwie,

First, I just want to say it was cool to see you at the Axenberger conference this year. It's been a long time since the G-3 tour, man. We have got to stay in touch a little better from now on. Joe sends his regards as well. All right, enough of that. Now for the reason of this letter.

I don't guess you know what bug's been up Lynch's ass lately, do you? You've heard about the fight, I'm sure. We were at the convention, right? George, Vito, Beach and I were hanging out in the pool area getting a little sun. The vibe seemed pretty cool until Friedman came out with Becker. Then George started acting like he was going to throw Jason in the pool. What a jerk. Even if it was a joke it's just so fucking cold. We all pretty much hated him after that. He was flexing his damn muscles and threatening everyone like he was something until Zakk showed up. Damn, I thought he was going to end George right then and there. I wish he had, actually. Would have served him right.

Anyway, the scuffle had pretty much died down by the time Buckethead got there. I saw it coming as soon as he came around the corner, though. I thought to myself: "Fuck, Lynch is going to get at it again." And sure enough, he fuckin' did it. Lynch just strolled up behind the guy and slapped that chicken bucket right off his head. Who'd've thought Buckethead knew Ju-Jitsu? Crazy. I'm glad he showed some restraint. Seeing Zakk pound the guy would have been fun, but that martial arts stuff... I don't know, man. That's brutal in some other God awful way.

We all ended up going back to our rooms shortly after that to get ready for the meeting that evening. It wasn't until I had already showered and dried my hair that Pia asked what I had done with the shirt I had worn to the pool. Of course, with all the ruckus going on, I had forgotten it and left it draped across the back of my patio seat. It was getting too close to time for the meeting, so I decided to stop by on my way back and pick up the shirt. I didn't even give it another thought.

So I'm crossing over to the meeting hall with Slash and the Moores (both Vinnie and Gary) and we were talking about Blackmore and how he was really getting too old to keep coming to these things. I said that that was a pretty bold statement to be coming from Gary, but he held his ground. I guess that just goes to prove his point about Ritchie being too much of a wallflower these days. Nuno joined up with us as we got to the other side of the courtyard and he was already knee deep in conversation with himself about DeMartini leaving him in the lurch for a plane ticket he didn't even use. I told him months ago not to buy that guy a ticket, but does Nuno ever listen? Nono. Not Nuno. So, he's ranting about Warren, Gary's ranting about Ritchie, Vinnie's off in his own little world and I'm stuck in the middle trying to be Zen. It wasn't easy. Thank God Hoey came over the P.A. and told everyone to "catch the riptide to the meeting hall, for Christ's sake."

We got to the hall and were ushered to our seats. Ushers. That was a hell of a nice touch, huh? It sure beats the shit out of trying to stick a half stack into the back of a Taurus. I got to my table and saw that I was put with Jake E. Lee, Chris Poland, Michael Schenker, and someone else I hadn't seen in way too long... Eddie. We talked about stuff that Roth had pulled, and it's just true, you know. Dave is Dave. Love him or hate him, you're going to be entertained. He asked me over dinner what had gone down at the pool and I filled him in on everything. He wasn't really all that shocked. Jake just laughed and said something about how George had always been a sore loser, and that cracked Eddie up. I guess they would both know.

Blues Scareceno started off the evening by saying a few words for Dimebag. Still hard to believe that shit, man. Blues' speech was just perfect. To say that it was moving, motivational, heartbreaking and reverent is not even close to doing it justice. It was beautiful. I think we were all grateful for such a marvelous homage to such a wonderful human being. And I don't know about you, but I'll never forget when Gilmour stepped up to the podium after everyone finished eating and started the meeting by vowing...

***The following has been omitted as possibly upsetting to budding guitarists***

...and I think we could pull it off. Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

With the talks for the night concluded, I set out to recover my shirt from the pool. Now, I didn't see George before everyone went into the hall, and I didn't see him during the dinner, either. It's just as well. I was just past the fountain when I heard Lynch behind me.

"Where you goin', Vai?" he yelled. I looked around and there he was, wearing my shirt!!!

"What the Hell are you doing with my shirt?" I asked him.

"What are you talking about? This is my shirt," he replied.

"You are so full of shit! That shirt doesn't even fit you! You look like an IDIOT!" I yelled that last word so loud that Ace had a heart attack and died. Right then and there. Fell over dead. Ooops. "I want my damn shirt back, you muscle bound moron!"

"If you want the shirt so badly why don't you go ahead and take it?" He spread his arms wide open in that "'come on and take your best shot" gesture. Actually, he threw his arms open. And he wasn't keeping aware of his surroundings 'cause he popped Mick Mars right in the eye. Mick didn't seem to notice.

I walked over to him and stared him in the eye. He's a lot bigger than me as far as muscles go, but I'm taller and have a Hell of a longer reach. I was sizing him up and I think if I had been given a few more seconds I might have even thrown the first punch, but then Gilbert and Boullette got in between us and pushed us back from one another. Eric Johnson came over to me and tried to talk me down while MacAlpine was trying to reason with Lynch. We all stood there for half an hour, but I never did get my shirt back.

I went back to my room pissed and told Pia about the whole thing. She asked why I didn't just rip the shirt off his back and claim the tattered rag as a trophy. Needless to say, I didn't get laid that night. I got up the next morning, still fuming over the whole situation, and got my luggage together and out to the limo. I stood back, taking in the view of the place in case I never see it again, when I noticed a couple of suitcases and a guitar case resting together in a little clump on the walkway. "Who the fuck would bring a guitar to this thing? Aren't the complimentary instruments in the rooms good enough for a few days?" I thought to myself as I looked upon the scene. That's when I saw him.

Lynch.

He sauntered over to the pile and added another small bag to the mess. Then he turned and walked back to his room once again.

"He didn't see me," I thought to myself. Pia was just coming out of the room. I motioned to her to get into the car quickly while I ran over to the shit heap that was Mr. Lynch's possessions. I grabbed the guitar case and bolted over to the car and got in without ever being seen. It was a thing of beauty. And Pia and I had more than a little sex on the way to the airport, I can tell you.

I was going to make a big thing about this and get my shirt back one way or the other. But, fuck that shit. You know what? If he wants the shirt so damn bad, he can keep it. Go ahead and open the attachment. I'd call that an even trade!

Steve

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User Reviews

Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2006-08-19 06:53:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Ok, two minutes...

Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2006-08-19 06:52:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I knew almost every damn name in this thing. Monthly subscriptions to Guitar World will do that for a man.

BTW: Lynch was a bitch. Hell, even Chuck Berry would have no trouble with his ass in this story. But I have to say...Jason Becker needed to be thrown into the pool - if only for a minute.

Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2006-08-14 14:43:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-08-14 14:32:51 (#)
Ranking: -2

p.s. Bob, where'd you get those nifty reference buttons? I'll be damned if they're on my keyboard.
============
They are alt functions...
-----
Alt functions? ALT FUNCTIONS?

This is what happens when we don't make kids learn the ascii charts anymore. They call them ALT FUNCTIONS.

You knobjockey.

Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-08-14 14:32:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

p.s. Bob, where'd you get those nifty reference buttons? I'll be damned if they're on my keyboard.
============
They are alt functions... Hold alt. and type 0134 on the num pad. --> †

There is a FUCKING TON just google alt functions and you can find out what they are.

Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-08-14 14:29:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I found this quite entertaining.

However, most people on Uber seem to have limited musical taste, so I doubt they'll recognize more than a handful of the names.

Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-08-14 13:24:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

What are you Queer?†‡

†Based soley on the title
‡Fuck this, I'm not reading all that...

Submitted by livEvil (user info) at 2006-08-14 13:11:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

this post came across like a middleschool cheerleader wrote it.

Submitted by Life101 (user info) at 2006-08-14 12:50:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Have a +2 its your second post

Submitted by choir (user info) at 2006-08-14 12:08:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Man, this post was created with the greatest of respect. I wresteled with the idea of putting a disclaimer on here and decided against it.

Bite me.

Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-08-14 12:04:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

You know what?

FUCK YOU!!

These 3 men are the greatest things to ever happen to virtuoustic guitar and you go and make a crap post like this.

Way to go cockmonger.

-2DIE