An out of work pianist with Tourette's Syndrome is strolling around the
streets and bars of Soho one unemployed afternoon.

Walking down Dean Street he sees a lounge bar with a sign in the window
'Pianist wanted for evening performances'.

'Fucking get in there you cunt!' he says to himself and goes to the bar.
'Get the fucking manager of this pigshit middle class wankhole please...
you cunt', he says to a somewhat startled barman. The barman however
obliges and his manager comes upstairs.

'Can I help you sir?'

'Yes you can you fat piece of shit, I saw your poxy advert in the
cunting window and I'm here to audition.....wanker.'

The manager is naturally put off by the man's abrasive manner but his
dire need for a top class pianist forces him to agree to an audition.
The first tune the pianist plays is an uplifting jazzy number, not too
involving, yet utterly melodic. At the end the thrilled manager cries,
'Wonderful, wonderful. What was that called?'

'That song was called "Excuse me prime minister but I just twatted your
daughter, and now the bitch is blind...'

'Oh' says the manager 'err, can you play me another. Something a little
less "lively"?'

'Wanker..' interjects the pianist before launching into a powerful
ballad which leaves the manager in tears. The manager through his salty
teardrops asks him the title.

'That little number was called "Sometimes when you do a bird up the arse
you get shit on your bell-end.'

'I see' says the manager, 'Have you got any songs with less offensive
titles?'

'Well there's my jazz number "Do you want me to split your ringhole", or
there's the epic "I don't care if you're older my dear, you've still got
nice jugs".'

'Look' says the manager interrupting, I think you're a superb pianist
but the title of your songs are a little "racy". I will hire you on the
condition that you do not introduce your songs or speak to the
audience.'

'Fuck it' says the pianist 'Why not.'

On his first night everything is going superbly the crowd are lapping up
his repertoire and his silence is being received as modesty. The only
thing putting off the pianist is that in the front row there is a
gorgeous blonde in a black evening dress with a split up the side
revealing the tops of her stockings, and a plunging neckline which
boasts a proud and inviting cleavage.

During the interval the pianist has got such an impressive 'swelling'
that he decides to go to the bog and polish one off, to "relax"
himself. Just as he has "relinquished" he hears himself being
re-introduced over the P.A, so he rushes back to the stage and finishes
his act.

After the show he is at the bar relaxing when the blonde approaches him.
'Hi' she says.

'Hello' he winces, struggling to hold in the expletives. She leans over
and whispers in his ear, 'Do you know your penis is hanging out of your
trousers, and spunk is dribbling onto your shoes?'

'Know it?' says the pianist putting his beer on the bar confidently, 'I
fucking wrote it!!!'

Simon wrote:
> An out of work pianist with Tourette's Syndrome is strolling around the
> streets and bars of Soho one unemployed afternoon.
> 
> Walking down Dean Street he sees a lounge bar with a sign in the window
> 'Pianist wanted for evening performances'.
> 
> 'Fucking get in there you cunt!' he says to himself and goes to the bar.
> 'Get the fucking manager of this pigshit middle class wankhole please...
> you cunt', he says to a somewhat startled barman. The barman however
> obliges and his manager comes upstairs.
> 
> 'Can I help you sir?'
> 
> 'Yes you can you fat piece of shit, I saw your poxy advert in the
> cunting window and I'm here to audition.....wanker.'
> 
> The manager is naturally put off by the man's abrasive manner but his
> dire need for a top class pianist forces him to agree to an audition.
> The first tune the pianist plays is an uplifting jazzy number, not too
> involving, yet utterly melodic. At the end the thrilled manager cries,
> 'Wonderful, wonderful. What was that called?'
> 
> 'That song was called "Excuse me prime minister but I just twatted your
> daughter, and now the bitch is blind...'
> 
> 'Oh' says the manager 'err, can you play me another. Something a little
> less "lively"?'
> 
> 'Wanker..' interjects the pianist before launching into a powerful
> ballad which leaves the manager in tears. The manager through his salty
> teardrops asks him the title.
> 
> 'That little number was called "Sometimes when you do a bird up the arse
> you get shit on your bell-end.'
> 
> 'I see' says the manager, 'Have you got any songs with less offensive
> titles?'
> 
> 'Well there's my jazz number "Do you want me to split your ringhole", or
> there's the epic "I don't care if you're older my dear, you've still got
> nice jugs".'
> 
> 'Look' says the manager interrupting, I think you're a superb pianist
> but the title of your songs are a little "racy". I will hire you on the
> condition that you do not introduce your songs or speak to the
> audience.'
> 
> 'Fuck it' says the pianist 'Why not.'
> 
> On his first night everything is going superbly the crowd are lapping up
> his repertoire and his silence is being received as modesty. The only
> thing putting off the pianist is that in the front row there is a
> gorgeous blonde in a black evening dress with a split up the side
> revealing the tops of her stockings, and a plunging neckline which
> boasts a proud and inviting cleavage.
> 
> During the interval the pianist has got such an impressive 'swelling'
> that he decides to go to the bog and polish one off, to "relax"
> himself. Just as he has "relinquished" he hears himself being
> re-introduced over the P.A, so he rushes back to the stage and finishes
> his act.
> 
> After the show he is at the bar relaxing when the blonde approaches him.
> 'Hi' she says.
> 
> 'Hello' he winces, struggling to hold in the expletives. She leans over
> and whispers in his ear, 'Do you know your penis is hanging out of your
> trousers, and spunk is dribbling onto your shoes?'
> 
> 'Know it?' says the pianist putting his beer on the bar confidently, 'I
> fucking wrote it!!!'



Amazing how little the school playgrounds have changed since I was 13.


LC

"lescor"  wrote in message 
news:483261EF.6000202@btinternet.com...
> Simon wrote:

> Amazing how little the school playgrounds have changed since I was 13.
>
>
> LC


So why did you feel the need to repeat it?

On Tue, 20 May 2008 23:27:02 +0100, Roger 2  wrote:

>
> "lescor"  wrote in message
> news:483261EF.6000202@btinternet.com...
>> Simon wrote:
>
>> Amazing how little the school playgrounds have changed since I was 13.
>>
>>
>> LC
>
>
> So why did you feel the need to repeat it?

Context.



-- 
Signature missing - hard disk error.