I've been thinking lately that maybe being a Speech-Language Pathologist is not my true calling. I mean, sure it's the logical thing to do, but if for some reason I decide to throw all pragmatics out the window, I have an alternate future in mind:
***Kickin' Band Member***
Oh yeah, baby! I need to be in a band. I can see it now....
Priscilla enters stage left dressed in what can only be described as total awesomeness. She strolls to her scarf-laden microphone stand. Her sparkly, silver jumpsuit casts diamonds of shining light across the walls of The Depot. A scarlet red keytar hangs over her right shoulder; the strap covered by out-of-control, wickedly awesome blonde hair. As for makeup? A thick layer of black eyeliner compliments bright blue eyeshadow and deep red lipstick. A black, sequined vest, red scarf, and silver stiletto heels complete the ensemble.
She's ready to rock.
The crowd is thrown into a frenzy. Applause and cat calls echo back to the stage as the rest of the band strolls to the stage.
Drums: Michael 'The Mikester' David. 6'2", 170lbs of pure rhythm. Environmentalist by day he ensures that his band is always Earth-friendly. He prefers the purple spandex-open vest combo matched with a pair of black diesel sneakers and dark shades. His motto? Lurpiness is next to godliness.
Bass Guitar: Bobierto. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galatica. With wavy, shoulder-length hair, Bob keeps it simple: ripped jeans, shiny t-shirt, classic tennies. Given the 2009 award for sexiest hair, he is considered the 'pretty boy' of the band. Sorry girls, he's taken.
Lead Guitar: Kimbo. Despite Mike's pleadings, wailings, and temper tantrums, she loves her leather. Tight leather pants? Check. Suave leather jacket? Check. Sexy leather boots? Double check. Unnatural colors for leather? Many a check.
Priscilla grabs the microphone in her right hand, tossing a section of hair over her shoulder with her left.
"Hello Salt Lake City! Are you ready to rock?!"
[Utter hysteria from the crowd]
"I am Priscilla, this is my band, and together we make up
THE DIRTY LINENS!"
After performing a set of insanely awesome 80-influenced tunes, we are called back on stage for an encore. Linens! Linens! The crowd calls. Bob and Mike enter the stage first. Girls wail in the audience, throwing themselves at the two sweaty rockers. Guards quickly rush to restrian the women. Kim and Priscilla enter next, jogging into place to play their final song...
Oh boy, it would be fantastic. We'd be huge all over the world. Tours, interviews and morning shows would increase our fan base. We'd be the hottest thing since sunburn.
I'd expect one our group pictures to look something like this:
Please don't judge the outfits. We fired our manager shortly after this photo was taken.