Well, we didn’t have drum machines back then, so I went off in search of Junkhead. The manager told us that Junkhead couldn’t go. And as long as we fed him more pixie dust, the hits kept coming. “You are my candy, girl… and you’ve got me wanting you.” He wrote the song about our bandmate. Do, do, do, do, do, do!”, he would sing to the groupies while we practiced. Orange hair, freckles, football letterman jacket. “I just like drugs better.” Our band was named after me, but our other guitarist… he was the popular kid in school. “It isn’t that I don’t like girls”, the jocular young man would proclaim. In return for playing drums in concert, I would supply him with blow. “The name is Junkhead”, he proclaimed, biting into a hamburger and tapping the fold-up table with a jingle-jangle beat. Riverdale High School cafeteria, wearing his inside-out fedora, all cut into style like the kids used to do back in those days. Almost gave up and considered quitting my day job and becoming an itinerant homeless man who told scary stories about real life consequences, ‘til… I found ‘im. It was hard to find a drummer, ‘cause everybody wanted to sing or play guitar. I guess the real trouble began when I started recruiting members.
WHO WROTE SUGAR SUGAR ARCHIES FREE
This left me with lots of free time, which I used to develop my band’s sound. I tried to join the army back during the Vietnam war, but they wouldn’t take me. Anyway, I should probably let you know why a real life version of Archie Andrews would be so intent on murdering me in the first place. Fresh out of options, I let out a shrill shriek of terror before scrambling toward the fire exit, tripping in the dark though I would’ve done so if the light was on anyway, seeing as to how I have no eyes, no pun intended. The sound of a chopped, wooden door, the light of the showroom, and a freckled, middle-aged ginger man face.
I got up and reached out a hand to turn the lights back on, until… it happened. Clearly, the surprising visit had come to the close, and the man had either gone + bought something or used the bathroom and had gone home. “Everything’s… going to be okay.”, I whispered to myself. I slammed off the lights, counted to five, then seven, then six, and let out a prayer. I ran like a flock of seagulls, down the aisle, off into the corner, and into the stock room. Reflexes kicked in and I broke into a sprint, the smell of flatulence following me like a slug’s trail. “1971: the Ed Sullivan Show!” Well, that did it. “I could recognize that smell from miles away,” the bright haired gentleman commented, to my horror. Oh, I was so embarrassed! My anxiety disorder kicked in, and then, all of the memories. I passed gas right in the middle of my store. Started humming some Neil Young harmonica tunes, and then, to my horror… it happened. I took a split second to decide to hide that I recognized him, for what it’s worth. Orange hair, bushy eyebrows, googly eyes, freckles… and that smile. A customer unlike any I had ever seen before. I guess it all started one day while I was sorting a stack of Aardvarks records. My store does an okay amount of business, though much of the time, people just stop in to use the bathroom. Dejected, I became an addict to gin-and-tonic an started selling used cars to hookers before recalling my first love: vinyl. I was inspired by the success of the Archies to pursue my own musical dreams, but my psychedelic disco-punk band failed to chart after I farted during our first live performance on the Ed Sullivan show. That’s pretty messed up, but we live in a world in which Donald John Trump is President and I have no eyes.Īs for me, I own a record shop in Downtown Riverdale. That’s right: they were bigger than the Beatles, Stones, Monkees, and Ace of Base all wrapped into one.
Strange thing is that they had a real life #1 radio song hit in 1969 of all years, with “Sugar, Sugar”. Anyway, long before the Gorillaz were jellybeans in Harambe’s womb, The Archies were their own animated rock n’ roll band, named after Archie himself because he’s such a pretentious little dick. Starring a ginger boy named-y’guessed it-Archie, the strips have often featured his high school hijinks in taking his girlfriend, Veronica to the drive-in movies and deal with some abusive dildo who pretended to be a monster before being unmasked and revealed to be a skeleton, if I’m remembering correctly. You were probably spinning Moby Grape vinyls and dipping your pet cat Pookie in tie-dye, but on the off-chance that you, dear listener, are a senior citizen, you probably have been a consumer of Archie Comics at some point or another. You weren’t alive in the 1960s, or if you were, you were likely on a lot of drugs and don’t remember it at all.
0 kommentar(er)
