As you all know (I hope), that aging Aus­tralian band Led LO/CO is com­ing to town AGAIN (yeah, I know) tonight to play some Wood­stock thing at Higher Ground. The main douchebag, Ian (Christ, almighty, he keeps claim­ing to be the ass­hole that made and sold the ‘brown acid’ at Wood­stock AND the mem­ber of the Hell’s Angels that stabbed that guy at Alta­mont) has been con­tact­ing me about where to stay, if my mom’s around (not cool), where his band­mates are (how the fuck should I know?), what’s legal here in Amer­ica drug-wise and sex­u­ally (oh super, Super­douche), etc. So I (very, very stu­pidly) hooked him up with my Face­book account so he could some­how coor­di­nate his arrival at the air­port this morn­ing with his band­mates (I guess there’s a tem­po­rary new guy who’s a bit…agitated? I don’t know how to describe this dude, but they all took sep­a­rate flights because of him, hence the trou­ble. Why don’t these fuck­ing bands just SPEAK to each other?). So he found the details of the gig through my Face­book page (after I AGAIN very, very, VERY stu­pidly gave him my pass­word) and pro­ceeded to post some stuff under my name, which I just decided was…well…anyway, I just lost a lot of friends. He came with his daugh­ter and an assis­tant, who I haven’t met yet because Ian fired him dur­ing the trip and sup­pos­edly he’s now going to be stay­ing with me for a cou­ple months (any­body got a spare bed for an Aus­tralian with a fake pass­port?). At first he had his assis­tant type his every word and then demanded they be posted, in my name.

So, I deleted the stu­pid shit that he wrote but then thought I’d share some of it with you, for rock history’s sake. By the way, he really is pretty fuck­ing stu­pid. You’d think a 66-year-old man who has flown around the world hun­dreds of times on 30 some-odd tours would know what a fuck­ing seat­belt was, espe­cially on his own plane. He held up his own plane for 9 hours, and then it turned out he thought he was in a car.

Any­way:

>“Jesus fuckin’ FUCK! What in the fly­ing FUCK is going on here? What is this fuckin’ thing? I don’t have time for this fuckin’ shite! Are we fuckin’ flyin’ yet? An’ where are we bloody fuckin’ well going, anyshite? Eh? Fuckin’ VERMONT? AGAIN? For fuck’s fuckin’ sake, man. We’re in fuckin’ China or Japan or Egypt or some fuckin’ place and we gotta go fuckin’ THERE again? Fuckin’ hell, man. Fuckin’ HELL.”

> “Oh, and great. Now I’m lookin’ at this new­fan­gled fuckin’ com­puter Face­fuckin’ TV thing or what­ever the fuck it is and fuckin’ SHITE on fuckin’ SHITE! Appar­ently there’s only going to be 47 peo­ple at this fuckin’ show! Mon­treal? Aca­dia? WORK ON FUCKIN’ SUNDAY? I can’t even fuckin’ FATHOM where or what the FUCK Ogun­quit is. FUCKIN’ HELL! I’m flyin’ to this fuckin’ thing from fuckin’ Korea!
I’m wastin’ a LOT of money on JET FUCKIN’ FUEL! Yeh, fuckin’ expen­sive these days, mates, in fact ALWAYS fuckin’ expen­sive! I’m pay­ing for my pri­vate fuckin’ jet to take me to play this fuckin’ gig. I’m even wastin’ fuckin’ money right fuckin’ now dic­tat­ing this fuckin’ shite to my fuckin’ assis­tant!
Lis­ten up, you fuckin’ Yanks: GO TO THIS FUCKIN’ SHOW. Every time we come here to the States you have proven your­selves to be of…whatever the fuck. You dig our music. Good on you. Come see it again. We’ll never let you down.
I had to go through this “Coo­ley” guy to get this shite to you. Met him at a gig a while back. He’s a decent enough bloke, but shite as a fuckin’ bar­tender. Ya call that a Black & Tan, mate? I call it Black & Fuckin’ MUDDY SHITE.” Fuckin’ wank­fuck­er­ing wank­fucker.
Any­ways, again, YANKS: GO TO THIS FUCKIN’ SHOW, WHY DONT YA?. This slug­gish econ­omy is EVERYWHERE, mates. Don’t for­get where you fuckin’ came from. Peace fuckin’ OUT!”

>“I just had to lay off me fuckin’ assis­tant (Roland). Shut your fuckin’ face about it. I hadda do it, man. The money for this gig isn’t gonna pay for those silk burn-proof oven mitts and/or the law­suit set­tle­ment regard­ing what I did at Larry’s house last month…‘ey, can you put this in those comma things? Awright: (really, I’m fuckin’ SORRY, Larry. Canna we just move the FUCK on?). Stop the fuckin’ com­mas NOW. Any­way, all Roland did was type what I said. Big fuckin’ WHOOP. Me fuckin’ daughter’s doin’ it now. She’s three years old and she can type this shite FOR FREE. That’s a real fuckin’ fine way to start, if you ask me. I’m startin’ to dig this Face­fucker thing. I might get me own fuckin’ account, mainly cuz this Coo­ley guy’s bein’ a real fuckin’ prick about me using his com­puter TV pass­word thingy­mag­ingy. An’ he can’t make a drink worth a fuckin’ fuck. Fuckin’ YANKS. Enjoy that Nobel Prize, you fuckin’ bas­tards. I done more good for the fuckin’ world than you’ll ever fuckin’ know. Just wait ’til fuckin’ tomor­row. Then you’ll fuckin’ know. THEN you’ll fuckin’ know.”

>“Great. And now I have fuckin’ jet lag already. For this 47-audience-member gig (212 ‘not attending’…COME ON! ROCK WILL BE HAD, YOU YANKS!) GEAR and fuckin’ FAB? I think bloody fuckin’ not. Ah, and no beer until 11:00AM, fuckin’ AMERICAN TIME. This fuckin’ coun­try and it’s STUPID fuckin’ time zones. I’m on Tibetan time, mind ya, so gimme a fuckin’ beer! Not only that, but do you real­ize you just sort of tried to blow up the FUCKIN’ MOON? For FUCKIN’ WATER? We already got plenny o’ water down here, mates. In fact, I think we should be AFRAID of fuckin’ water. We don’t need any fuckin’ more of it if you ask me. Christ, think of all of the peo­ple water has fuckin’ killed in the last few years. I don’t wanna get into the hor­rific details, but it’s a fuckin’ LOT. Water’s evil, man. That’s why we’re made of it. We’re fuckin’ evil, too, after all. If you bas­tards think you have the bloody fuckin’ right to blow up the fuckin’ MOON, I have the bloody fuckin’ right to drink a fuckin’ BEER.”

>“Any­way, if you’re one of those young fuckin’ kid­sters or flip­sters who tweez­ers or mytubes or what­ever the flyin’ fuck you fuckin’ do out there, come see us rock in your shitty lit­tle town. You won’t regre-JESUS FUCK you guys have some shitty fuckin’ weather goin’ on down here. Bloody shit. Lit­eral bloody shit in the skies.”

>“God, I hate fuckin’ air­ports. Same fuckin’ shit every fuckin’ time. This Burling­ton one is alright, but it still kinda fuckin’ sucks. I just wanna fuckin’ beer. I’m on Japan­ese time right now. There bet­ter be fuckin’ beer at this fuckin’ gig.”

>“And I spent my fuckin’ flight cel­e­brat­ing John Lennon’s birth­day. This Faceshit shit is kinda alright, though. I know what Drum and Reg are up to now. Unless they’re fuckin’ lying. Can’t trust those fuck­ers with a fuckin’ thing. There bet­ter be some fuckin’ peo­ple at this fuckin’ gig. Some hip­pie bloke just tried to take my luggage.

Ugh. The cab driver’s play­ing the fuckin’ Eagles. I hate the fuckin’ Eagles, man. Fuckin’ Don Hen­ley? WANKER and a fuckin’ HALF, mate. Wanker and a fuckin’ half.

Fuckin’ shite.”

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