got back from tour yesterday. It was incredible. there isn't room to put up all the crazy stories here, but I'll post a couple every day or something.
Iceland is incredible. the music scene is so small and tightly knit -- everyone knows everyone, works with everyone.. fantastic.
funny story number one:
When travelling w/ my cello I have to pack a lot of underwear and stuff around the bridge and under the fingerboard to protect the instrument. This meant that at each gig I was packing and unpacking my panties right next to the stage. After our show in Reykjavik this big blonde dude (like most dudes in reykjavik, I've found) came up to me and was like "That was amazing. Are those your panties? Can I have a pair?" I'm like "sure." And he goes "I want the PINK ONES!!!" so I give them to him. We chat for a while. turns out he really liked the show and was a very nice guy.
Later as we're packing up the car he approaches me and says "Nobody believes me that these are yours. Could you sign them for me?"
So my bandmate hands me a sharpie and I'm like "what's your name" and he says "Bjorgaslfiafsadfj" and I'm like "uuuuhh, maybe you should spell that" So on the ass of his new underwear I wrote
"Dear Bjorgasfvjaojasf,
thanks for the memories!
*heart* Mimi"
I now feel like a rockstar.
next time: the soused-up bandmates encounter a coked-up icelandic pop-goddess... AND GRAB HER ASS!
Iceland is incredible. the music scene is so small and tightly knit -- everyone knows everyone, works with everyone.. fantastic.
funny story number one:
When travelling w/ my cello I have to pack a lot of underwear and stuff around the bridge and under the fingerboard to protect the instrument. This meant that at each gig I was packing and unpacking my panties right next to the stage. After our show in Reykjavik this big blonde dude (like most dudes in reykjavik, I've found) came up to me and was like "That was amazing. Are those your panties? Can I have a pair?" I'm like "sure." And he goes "I want the PINK ONES!!!" so I give them to him. We chat for a while. turns out he really liked the show and was a very nice guy.
Later as we're packing up the car he approaches me and says "Nobody believes me that these are yours. Could you sign them for me?"
So my bandmate hands me a sharpie and I'm like "what's your name" and he says "Bjorgaslfiafsadfj" and I'm like "uuuuhh, maybe you should spell that" So on the ass of his new underwear I wrote
"Dear Bjorgasfvjaojasf,
thanks for the memories!
*heart* Mimi"
I now feel like a rockstar.
next time: the soused-up bandmates encounter a coked-up icelandic pop-goddess... AND GRAB HER ASS!
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
missprint:
Just out of curiosity, what band are you in? I'm from Boston/Providence and I go to a lot of shows.
missprint:
Thanks for the band info. Nice web page.