Who's Next? Who cares.

I lit another cigarette, at least what passed for one in this back water town. Damn, it was almost as bad as the warm beer and rotten food. I was tired and had been leaning against the car for about an hour now, waiting for Mary.

When she asked me to go with her to England I jumped at the chance. I was bored at school and needed a break. Mary was a rich kid and her parents gave her a trip to help clear her head. In other words, they were buying her a ticket away from the crazy hippies. They didn’t plan on this crazy hippie going along for the ride.

I hated this place and if I had known we were going to spend the whole time chasing around rock stars, I would have just stayed home, got another chick.

I pitch the cig and look over at the camera shoot. The first few minutes of watching Pete and Keith trying to piss on the wall were funny, now it was just pathetic. And there is Mary, rubber necking for a peek at a rock star’s pecker.

Hey, don’t get me wrong, I dig these guys but what a drag man. Time to jet.

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