29
Jan
14

golfwang amadeus mozart

“Say, that’s quite a band you’ve got there, Miller. Your boys are really hot.”
“Thanks; you picked a good time to finally accept my invitation to catch a rehearsal. That new third-chair clarinet player we’ve got has made all the difference. So, what do you think of the new song?”
“The one with all those repeated arpeggios? Oh, we’ll be hearing that one on the Hit Parade all summer! What do you call it?”
“‘In the Mood.'”
“‘In the Mood?'”
“Yeah, because when I wrote it I was horny as shit.”
“I was just about to say, those dueling saxophone solos remind me of when you feel like you’re walking around with a huge rod, just looking for the nearest place to stick it in.”
“Yeah, where you’re riding the bus or at the supermarket and you look around and realize that you’d happily copulate with literally every woman of consenting age in your field of view? Yeah man, I’m that way all the time.”
“Even during concerts?”
“Oh, that’s when it’s worst. Sometimes the band’s really going, and the trombones remind you of a train going in and out of a tunnel. Lordy, I’m breaking into a sweat just thinking about it.”
“I know what you mean. During rehearsal I kept finding myself imagining the drummer just spanking the heck out of some girl’s buns.”
“Yeah, it’s rough conducting in those conditions. All those eyes on you? It’s like middle school; I have to wear like four pairs of XXS briefs up there.”
“Well, you’ve got to have a ton of ladies waiting for you after the show though, right?”
“True, true. But you’d be surprised how many of them call me Henry or Arthur.”

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