Our team met for two rehearsals this week. Nearly every moment was filled with musical explosions of a personal nature, as our truly gifted members each entered into a fugue state of hard rocking genius.
On Thursday, Matty and Pony had gotten there early to do a quick run through of the entirety of Rush's Moving Pictures album. They felt it was a little boring, so they opted to skip all the notes falling on odd beats while playing all prime numbered measures backwards.
Since the next 30 minutes of band practice yielded 12 perfectly formed rock epics, Mary Ann focused on transcribing them and transposing each by 11 different intervals, in hopes of determining which was truly the saddest key.
Anne felt uninspired by traditional playing techniques and discovered a natural talent for playing the bass by firing ping-pong balls at it at high speed. Yes, that way.
The band draft commissioners had given me $300 in cash, most of which was already spent on extremely dangerous drugs. Needless to say I spent each rehearsal in a horrible, slobbering sort of spastic stupor.