And then there were three...

For those who don't know, Pete Davis*, BSoD lead guitarist is, as of last night, no longer the BSoD lead guitarist.

Being in a band is very much like being in a relationship. Except, in our case, without the sex. Therefore, being in a band is very much like being in a relationship, but without the good bits.

Breaking up a band is remarkably similar to the end of a relationship. Except without the sex. There are tears, anger, regret, paranoia etc. and maybe just a little bit of sex.

It's like being on a roller coaster of emotion. On this roller coaster you are sat on the middle seat. You think to yourself "they've clearly made an effort to make these roller coaster seats comfortable, but is the large, potentially testical-crushing bulge between my legs really necessary?". 

On one side of you sits the Drill Sergeant from“Full Metal Jacket” undermining and belittling you in increasingly imaginative ways.  On the other side is Wesley Snipes with his sharp hair cut who is glaring at you from behind his sunglasses and repeatedly growling the phrase “use it”.  Then, when the ride is finally over, you get off only to be confronted by Vinnie Jones, who says nothing, but kicks you in the testicles (which, ironically, you had carefully avoided crushing on the roller coaster seat) before running off. You think you can hear him giggling to himself as he goes, but then again, somebody running and laughing would sound almost exactly the same as somebody running and crying.

Today I feel numb. This may or may not be related to the fact that I am cold because I am wearing nothing but pants, but then the reason I am wearing nothing but pants is because I feel numb. It's a chicken and egg situation. A big 'orrible chicken, laying an egg so mutated that it looks remarkably like masterchef host, Greg Wallace.

In difficult times like these, I feel it is important that we look at the bigger picture, and take a minute to remind ourselves just how much of a twat Greg Wallace, masterchef host, really is. He's a big 'orrible chicken twat giving birth to a disgusting egg that is so mutated it looks remarkably like masterchef host, Greg Wallace.

I feel it maybe time for me to metaphorically and literally, but mainly literally, put some clothes on.

*I misread this as "Pete Davis" live at Twin Towers.  I feel I should point out that there are FIVE volumes of this toss, and each CD is priced at $28, NOT INCLUDING POSTAGE.  I can only presume that Pete is no longer in Blue Screen because he is buying himself a small island somewhere with profits from these albums, but I sincerely hope that he does not make any more.