The piano arrived yesterday, in all it's glory. Heavy piece of machinery that.
The delivery truck didn't have a crane on them – which I find odd, people always have cranes lying around – so they couldn't hoist the bugger over my balcony and into my overstuffed lounge.
Instead I had it delivered to the office. We have a very funky office set-up as it is, so a musical instrument isn't classified as out of the ordinary. In fact my boss thinks it's the shizzle. Fugly shizzle, but shizzle nonetheless.
I downloaded some new sheet music for the occasion – you know, a little bit of Keane (the band only plays drums and piano, so it should work nicely), and I asked Ches and Dove if they'd like to request anything in particular.
Dove: Dildo Detention by Vaginal Carnage.
Peas: That's amusing, but slightly fucked up. Even for me.
Dove: The song actually exists.
Ches: How about Fuck Me Like You Hate Me by Seether. That's nice, easy listening.
Dove: I got the song from a dude that works in my office. He seems like a most respectable citizen, what with the button down shirt, 2.4 children and a dog. But you should see his iTunes collection. It's all death metal where not one song is exempt from the lyrics 'death', 'blood' or 'depths of hell.'
Peas: Never fuck with him. Give him your last Rolo, always say hello. Basically never piss him off. Because one day he is going to crack. And when he runs through your office with a scythe, you going to want him to be like, “She gave me a Rolo. I'll rethink this one.” He's going to slay something, and you don't want it to be you.
Dane Cook even did a skit on this. Your case is not uncommon:
Dove: Metalheads. There's a documentary I watched on these Norwegian headbangers, who worshipped Satan, burnt churches down and had a disarming penchant for the colour black. You know, the type of guy you want to bring home to read Christmas stories to your grandad by the fire.
Except maybe not too close to the fire.
Luckily Lionel Richie and Keane are more my vibe, and I'd suspect, my office's. That hateful, hostile edge that causes people to mosh the fuck out isn't what I'm going for, I don't think.
Although I did find a band name called Gee That's A Large Beetle I Wonder If It's Poisonous, last night. They sound rad.
As well as Touch Me Again and I'll Break Your Arms, where the editor of the blog wrote: “I believe it's a metal band.”
So it's my book launch tonight. I've been told to imagine everyone naked. I'm thinking that might just freak me out.
But I'll actually get to hold my book in my hands – a hard copy of this thing I've been working on for almost 3 years - tonight. I'm completely surrealed-out.
Planning to sink a few gin and tonics.