Music Industry = Sexual Predator?

by Dai Howells

People who work in the music industry are sexual predators.

This thought came to me a little while ago, stood at the back of an unnamed pub in an buy drugs online unnamed city for an unnamed festival. The band were riotously giving it everything they’d got on stage whilst the support were coming around from the door at the back of the venue, holding towels and bottles of water like they’d just stepped off Wimbledon’s Centre Court. Their manager, a predatorial looking fucker at the best of times, wispy greying hair and a thick-skinned face that looked like a good sack of spuds – or a bad scrotum – welcoming them with the kind of tactility usually shared for wedding nights or parties round at Michael Jackson’s house. The boys in the band meanwhile can’t have been a day over 18; if they weren’t carrying instruments they’d probably have not been let over the door, but there they were, all milk teeth and short trousers, visibly buzzing from having played their songs to a pissed up and generally appreciative audience – all cotton white grins and year 9 smiles. Levitra generico
But up until this point, Joe Manager with his jowly bollock face had been talking to another old fella, and it was this one that was the big worry. Vardenafilo levitra Joe Manager, whilst still looking like a nasty piece of work, was not a patch on his mate, who, for continuity’s sake, we’ll call Johnny Mantis. Florida codes bank Johnny Mantis, the label boss.

Now, Joe Manager had a little word in his boy’s ears, telling them Johnny Mantis was in fact the boss of a tidy little label up in London, small enough to keep credentials with the indie crowd, big enough to get their songs out onto the radio C-Lists.
The schoolboys naturally looked at one another with pant wetting excitement in their eyes and the sound of a billion knickers hitting the floor ringing in their ears. Here before them was a living, breathing man who could just about make true the dreams they’d been harbouring since blu-tacking posters of Dave Grohl to their bedroom walls. Levitra reviews And the fact that he looked like Skeletor with a stiffy would be something they’d just have to overlook.

All the while during the briefing, Johnny Mantis had been stood to the side, not the aloof label boss you see in films: perma-cigar hanging out of his over-ripe lips, a string of girl-band wannabees hanging not only off his arm but off every fucking word, all the while he’s only sparing an upcoming band three seconds before he shows them the back of his hand. No, not this. Certainly not. Instead, a lecherous fucking parasite that looked like a charity shop suit had been casually thrown over a double jointed clothes horse while all the while he’s barely able to hide the raging boner threatening to explode right out of his soiled grey trousers.

Joe Manager left them to it, like the fat kid at school who you put on watch duty because the wee beastie can’t run twenty yards without passing out or reaching for his inhaler. He was out the door in a flash, leaving Johnny Mantis with his prey.
The boys, chipper as ever, leant in to say hello – their soft Lancashire accents painting them even younger than their baby faces had already attested. Johnny Mantis leant in, and whispered something slowly in the ears of the drummer, the one he found himself standing closest to, and the drummer, clutching his water now with ever-whitening knuckled returned a smile, one pitched smack in the middle of gratitude and stone cold fear.

Johnny Mantis leant in again, this time bringing a hand up to the boy’s shoulder. He leant in for another word before being unceremoniously clattered out of the way by a pissed up, bleary-eyed girl, her bra strap falling off her bare left shoulder and the blood red stain of lipstick smeared across her front teeth. “Yeh wer greeeeat,” she drawled into the air around where the three were stood. Cheap Levitra online “Reeal greeeeat.”

The boys looked at one another gleefully. Wilful abandon and marginal mania flooding their brains with endorphins and pushing clean out the thought that at any other time a girl like this would typically be seen giving two fingers to a news crew as a solemn man in a suit says to the camera, “The Government has been urged to crack down on these binge drinkers…” with the camera zooming in to see her throwing up angrily and vociferously on her friend, “before it’s too late.”

Mantis’ eyes narrow.

For a moment it’s uncertain whether he’s going to lash out at the girl or try and have a crack himself. He shuffles in close, opting for the latter. Order Doxycycline

For one glorious ray of sunshine in this shit-flecked little scenario, she glowers at him with pure disgust in the way that only drunk girls can, the abject hatred and unease having no choice but to show itself on her pissed up, red cheeked face.
Then he leans in, explains how up in London he’s a big shot. Record label producer and all that. Her eyes glaze over and she touches his elbow, punctuating every word with yesses, nods and coquettish smiles.

The boys Buy Wellbutrin SR Online Pharmacy No Prescription Needed watch on as their chances of getting on Mantis’s books ebb slowly into the drunken night.

Stinking of cheap cigarettes and pervading an aura usually reserved for the kind of sad and desperate parents who, having failed in their own miserable lives want to exact their own hopes and dreams upon their poor kids. Joe Manager is back! He sees Mantis has turned his attention to the girl, who is now laughing like a machine gun. He looks at the boys like they’ve failed him, and they gaze at the floor, lost Buy antibiotics online without prescription. Online Drugstore.and showing their age. Zithromax pharmacy

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