Well, it goes to say, doesn’t it? Hell did eventually freeze over and I did pull off the gig. I came out on the stage and had 18,000 people screaming in my face as I said “Hola Barcelona” that I’d learned from the Spanish guy I had fucked the previous night. I want to do that for every gig. Greet the crowd in their local language. Thank fuck I’m not going to Russia or China, cause that’d be interesting. And they’d spend the next two hours laughing at my rats accent instead of enjoying the show.
It’s taken me a few days to get over the initial shock – and giving a few people some heat for fucking up my goddamn show! “Too Funky” twice!! – of actually pulling through. I’m in Madrid rehearsing for the second gig tomorrow, and have told my staff that either do it right or fuck off. So they’re going to do it right this time. I was happy, overall, and the audience was amazing. (“I think you’re amazing…”) The stage show is way cool – especially with thousands of adoring fans screaming at ya.
The Bush joke went down well. I knew that was a great idea the moment I’d had three spliffs, a curry, a fuck and a blowjob (not in that order) and thought of it. It’s my favourite part of the visual, definitely. One thing I wasn’t too happy about was that I fucked up the lyrics now and then – but I don’t think anyone noticed. 
It’s the biggest ego wank I’ve had since… well, let’s not go there. May do “Understand” – as we’ve done it in rehearsals – for the Madrid gig. Maybe. Though, will leave the planned medley permanently out.
Everybody wants a lover like… moi.
George x
