by GE 138 It’s my website, and if I wanna take up more space in it to tell you what a piece of shit this Keith guy from Skratch Magazine is, and how badly he fucked us over on this show, I will dammit! You see, we’re The Loud Pipes, and doing things the hard way comes naturally to us... Adversity is our middle name. It’s just how we Rock, OK? So we pull into the Ralph’s shopping center where the club / restaurant is located, and we check it out. The club has a great layout, with a bar on the left side and a restaurant on the right. The stage is big and it even has monitors! Wow! Me Hank and Jesse venture in to ask about the gig and what’s going on and the employees have no idea of what we’re talking about. Now this is a really nice Italian restaurant, with a helpful staff, and they’re getting ready for the Father’s Day rush of business (people were already showing up to eat dinner, and I over heard the Hostess tell someone on the phone that they were booked solid). This is not looking good. After we’re taken to the restaurant side of this establishment, the Hostess calls the owner of the place, who tells us that Skratch Magazine called up and asked about doing a show, but that was all... no confirmation... no call back... and the owner never heard from them again. Isn’t that just awesome? A so-called big time "National" Magazine decides to put it’s name and reputation on the line by sponsoring a Battle Of The Bands, and then drops the ball by NOT EVEN BOOKING THE FUCKING VENUE??? Now this wouldn’t of been so bad if the bands would have been told about it, since it was obvious that Skratch Magazine and this idiot named Keith knew that THERE WAS NO FUCKING SHOW! But I can only speak for us, The Loud Pipes, and say that no one ever called to cancel the show... not the Promoter, not the Magazine... no one. If they would have called to let us know, it wouldn’t of been a big deal, we would of never even of taken the time off of work, rented a van, made all these arrangements to get their on time and so on. Fucking asshole promoters. There’s one in every town.
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