BOW TO THE MOTHER OF ALL PICSTORIES.
Or, Why Chris is the king of picstories, other than inventing them!
(There are 145 pics here, turn back now! This thread is 45MB!)
"Geeks, Guitars, Nachos and Beer".
So it's Saturday, and I'm headed to D's place to fix his computer, setup
some guitars, have some beers and hang out. First, I needed to grab some
software and toss it on my external drive.
While stuff was copying, I needed to toss some stuff in my car. So I
unlocked it:
Popped the trunk:
Ah, space! Usually there are golf clubs here.
They fit.
Had to grab some cash, because I had a mission.
T-No: Check.
As usual I need gas, because nobody drives more than I do.
So off I go:
Where is this man going?
Why, to that house, of course.
To pick up this fucking thing and drag it up two flights of stairs.
It's a nice day, so I have a second pit stop to make.
Gotta keep the Commutemobile clean.
While I'm in the car wash, I send my pal Drew a text message regarding his
Nomad.
Almost done!
I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I read this sign.
And do what it says:
And now that I have cell service again, I get a text message reply.
Anyhow, car clean, I head back inside:
And burn a CD or two.
Once that finishes, I toss the shit in the car:
Toss on some tunes:
And I'm finally on my way.
Some breakfast for the ride. At least at one point today, I will be sort
of healthy.
My car needs to know where I'm going, so I tell it so.
And hit the road.
This is rather inaccurate, since I decide to go a different way.
This way, in fact.
Change up to a little classic CoC:
And make my first turnoff.
Which confuses the commutemobile.
But it recovers!
I can see Boston, so I'm getting close.
It's creeping up on me.
However I'm not afraid of some shitty-tone-havin' tube amp.
Finally off the highway, I make Cambridge. We yanks love naming our
cities after British places we abandoned. Or something like that.
51 miles in.
I'm here! And I get no appreciation for picking the Nomad up.
Drew has some savage slippers.
Inside, the wall of glorious boozing.
It's early, so no beer yet. Drew makes good coffee, however.
INTERMISSION
On with the show! It's Drew's custom Mike Sherman bass, which kicks all
sorts of absolute ass.
Obligatory shot of D's axes. Including his strat.
And his computer, which I'm about to fix.
While he seranades me on his new 1527. Which also kicks ass.
HOLY FUCKING DESKTOP ICONS BATMAN
I take care of that shit pronto.
Drew gets to work on my RG5, and doles out directions.
Look, it's Peterson's Peterson.
Drew rips my RG apart. We're (he) just changing pickup rings, so he gets
off easy.
Obligatory RH shot.
Old ring (bridge), new ring (neck). The jury is still out.
D's new amp, which I like a bunch.
Hey, it's Nick!
Who brings goodies like Santa, which end up under the tree.
The logo on the RG8 case. It's huge and massive. Like the RG8. And it's
case, oddly enough.
And there it is.
Along with his outrageously badass new Bernie Rico.
Which is immediately deemed true as fuck.
Back upstairs, I get to work on D's machine some more, while he checks out
the 8 string.
And administers headbanging-inducing djenty gloriousness.
Then hands it off to Nick, who does the same.
HI2U JASON
He brought a slick old RGEX that needed some TLC. Oodles of it.
Poor thing.
These guitars sound fucking amazing.
]
Back outside, I get dust in my eyes, nose, face, ears and everywhere else
while de-dusting D's computer. They all laughed at me.
And here's Jason, going for Drew's ass. That fag.
Who has yet another guitar with him that we all dig.
He checks out the Rico, and deems it .. Something.
Guitars in check, we head out!
Jason is excited!
We do The Leon(tm) for a bit:
And the boys get restless.
Almost there, we reach Porter Square.
See? I wouldn't lie to you.
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
So we head inside.
Jason decides what to order.
While Drew and Nick discuss, from the looks of this, politics.
In one of the single most monumental achievements in the history of
mankind, Q'Doba steps up and sells beer. We rejoice.
Drew. With a beer. Shock. Awe.
My motherfuckin' lunch. It kicked all sorts of ass.
Jason actually drank a beer. He was as shocked as the rest of us.
Because I am epic fail incarnate, I head out for a smoke.
While the boys finish up inside:
Q'doba administered, I head to an ATM.
And like so many ss.org'ers before me, I give Nick money.
Back at Chez D, Jason tries the (now mine) RG2228.
While Drew looks on, apparently, with disapproval.
'D gets to work on the (now Nick's) UV777PBK.
Look how tired this guy is.
I guess a bender the night before
followed my my ugly ass showing up early and a day of more beer and guitar
setups will wear a person out.
Jason starts on the RGEx, in the meantime.
And it's coming along!
INTERMISSION NUMBER 2. HOLY SHIT THIS IS TAKING A DAMN LONG TIME TO WRITE
UP.
Scrub-a-dub.
Side note, check out this old-ass pic of Drew I found.
Back downstairs, D continues on the UV.
While I take a break from computer-tech and check out the Rico.
Whilst Jason busts a groove on the Sherman.
Reason #1 why I like this guy.
The RGEX fretboard, starting to look like a guitar again!
D's still at it.
Here we have a T-No piece.
Yay, all done!
Crazy Al (in his prime, of course) is happy that the UV is done.
So we do the logical thing and go get beers while Drew gets to work on the RGEX.
These beers, in fact.
Drew's roommate, subject to metal riffing all day, is a great sport about things and doesn't throw any blunt objects at us.
Probably because Drew is playing now, and unlike the rest of us, his music is actually listenable by folks who don't like metal.
This stuff gets administererd in copious amounts:
While Drew's other roommate sneaks into the melee to make some tea and search for ear plugs, no doubt.
YEAH, FUCK YOU JASON.
YOU'RE OK, NICK! FUCK JASON THOUGH, FUCK HIM!
The RGEX gets the Drew treatment:
And
assbag gives me a fucking hicky-looking mark on my neck by blasting me with an upside down can of compressed air.
Seriously, he's almost done. As is this picstory. Thank god.
Jason serenades Drew with D's Martin:
Or maybe he's serenading Nick.
ITS ALMOST OVER, I SWEAR.
Guitars cleaned, cash exchanged, jamming done and a day full of guitar geekdom finished, we do the logical thing.
We hit the pub.
Nobody is happier than Drew about this development. He did a full setup on the UV, a full setup on the RGEX, a quick setup on the RG8, changed out my pickup rings and hosted the whole thing.
Nick is pretty happy too. I think. That, or he's about to stab me in the face.
Jason. Well, he's Jason.
Aaaah.....
We're here. Ryan calls, we say hi and I take a pic. This place has fucking awesome burgers.
Seriously. This calorie-laden cholesterol bomb is worth every minute I'll spend connected to a heart monitor later in life.
Jason's burger agrees.
And Drew picks up the tab. I deem him true as fuck for this.
And last, but certainly not least, the coolest, most metal-horn tossing motherfucker on the planet, who flexes at everyone and deems the whole motherfucking world false with his very presence. Drew's roommate Colin, Man Of Perpetual Metal Horns.
FIN