This is the end. My only friend. The end.
Alien Ant Farm was onstage butchering a Michael Jackson song when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Everything I've told you is true; this job will kill you!" Gary wheezed.
All I know is that if you smoke enough rock cocaine, you will believe you have super powers.
A fist came crashing into my nose so suddenly that I had no time to duck. "Welcome to the team, bitch!"
Some Hollywood band needed a roadie for tour. Little did I know that "life in a band" was completely different from the band I was about to work for.