Stormy weather, just can't get my poor self together

So I said I'd go into more detail about the show and I will, but not tonight. I've fallen behind in the things I need to do and won't have the time to go on and on about how a bunch of people got drunk and had a good time listening to the most magnetic, handsome, and dangerous performer. Yes, that performer is me, in case you were wondering. Anyway, may as well do this thing now because if I don't, I probably never will. And, quite frankly, there's not that much to sum up. I'll give it the ol' lightning round treatment all the same, though, so I can go off and be merry.

--Before he went on, Foley told me what an incredible vocalist his friend who was going to sing with him on a couple of numbers was. He had just returned from the south where he had performed in a countrified musical adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. Foley gave him the star treatment and I was excited to hear what all the fuss was about. When I did, I was underwhelmed. Heck of a nice guy and not a bad vocalist, per se, but not that great, either. Maybe I was expecting the next Josh Groban.

--Krissy, on the other hand, sang beautifully. Love her voice. We talked, and not for the first time, about playing some songs together. I think our voices would mesh well. I wonder if Josh Groban ever does duets.

-- The bartender at the Abbey was the worst I've ever seen. Not only did he abandon his post frequently---there was talk that he was snorting coke outside--- but he had to be told at least a couple of times during people's sets to shut his mouth. At any given moment, I could have walked around the bar and poured myself a tall one. Too bad I have a pure heart which prevents me from doing such things.

--Most of the people in attendance were friends, which was a great thing, but the only problem with that is it becomes a party and no one's really interested in paying attention to the music being played. I'd say about ten percent of the crowd were actually listening and the rest would only acknowledge the musician at the end of a song, when they were cued to applaud. Am I bitter about this? No. It's just something that happens. I had enough people paying attention to my playing to make me happy, and the important, essential thing, was the that anyone came out at all. A great group of people.

--When I completed my final song, Mara jumped up on the stage and gave me a big kiss. Nice! I was a little let down when the rest of the hot chicks in attendance didn't follow suit. Oh, well. I found out Spira dared Mara to do it. She also should have dared her to give me a hundred bucks. Hey, a brother's got to eat!

--Foley was drunk. Real drunk. Don't see him like that too often. Well, he is Irish, after all. Ouch!

--In the scummy rest room, I saw a xeroxed flier with a familiar face on it. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was Patrick Moraz, the Swiss pianist who played keyboards on the under rated Yes album, Relayer. He only stuck around for that one record. Man, things must have gone south for that guy if he was playing The Abbey. I bet he wishes he was invited to play on one of Yes' reunion tours. I hope Josh Groban never sees his career plummet like that.

So that was pretty much it. I left out a couple of minor details, like the big time record producer who talked about signing me to his big time label and the knife fight between Luke Warm and Foley's wife, Tamsyn, that almost sent one of them to jail for murder. G'night, bitches!