Bob Seger: Down and Out in Auburn
Hills
Son of a bitch! They cut off my tab
over at the Hard Rock again! Isn't there anybody left in Detroit who'll let me
have a beer on credit?
This has been a bad week, let me
tell you. I'm living on cold cuts and stale white bread from the day-old bakery
outlet, and the only reason I was able to afford those was because Suzi Quatro
dropped off a couple of dozen trash bags full of Diet Pepsi cans and Bacardi
bottles for me to cash in at the recycling center. Otherwise I'd have starved
altogether.
I'm going to have to get on the horn
with Chevrolet, they're late with the song licensing payment again. I mean
damn, the new 2004 trucks are out all over the fucking place and they're still
using "Like A Rock" as the theme song, so WHERE'S MY GODDAMNED CHECK???
At least I've been able to keep the
landlord at bay, so far anyway. The garage sale last week netted me a little
under two large, enough to pay the rent and keep the utility company off my ass
for another couple of weeks or so. I sold off all my guitars and my baby grand
piano, but I only got $25 bucks for the whole lot of my gold records. I mean
that really sucks, isn't a piece of history worth as much as it used to be? Not
that I was expecting Elvis money, but I was hoping they would at least clear
enough to pay off Verizon. Now I'm back to using 1-800-COLLECT on pay phones
again. Talk about humiliating.
I sang the national anthem at a
couple of Tigers games. They don't pay you for that, but at least I used to be
able to scrounge a couple of free hot dogs and a Miller Lite or two. But now
the Tigers suck so bad that attendance is shit and the management wants to
charge me for the refreshments! What the hell kind of bullshit is that?
Maybe I should call Ted Nugent. He's
not setting the world on fire these days either, but when he gets hungry he
just goes out and shoots something. Maybe I could wangle a haunch of venison
out of him or something. God I miss ordering pizza, but those pimply-faced
little twerps at Domino's won't deliver here anymore. What's wrong with an
autographed CD in lieu of payment and tip? Guys would have killed for that back
in the late 70's!
Every time I call Glen Frey I get
his answering machine and I know the rat bastard is screening his calls. See
how he likes it when the fans get tired of all those lame annual "Hell
Freezes Over" Eagles reunions and his worthless ass gets thrown back in
the street! What's he gonna live on, Miami Vice reruns? The fucking
no-talent piece of shit!
I wish I knew where my agent was;
the little leech hasn't called me in over two years. Why do I have to go down
hat-in-hand to General Motors every month and ask where the hell my check is?
It's a real pain in the ass, especially when they keep me waiting so long that
my bus transfer expires.
This totally sucks. Those fat-cats
over at Chevrolet better get their candy-asses in gear or maybe I'll just pull
my permission and they can use something else besides "Like A Rock"
to sell their goddamned trucks.
But then, what would I do for money?
When's the last time anybody rented Risky Business?
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