listen here, my good man of bitumen complexion...now you may attempt to perform your set piece, as i have just completed my great pyrotechnical display...
jerry lee shows up to watch. he exits the limo in flip flops and a sherlock holmes pipe while me and chuck berry are gettin our pictures snapped with the extras. the producer, adam fields, starts to introduce me to the killer, and jerry lee looks at this biopipsqueak-rock'n'roll-desecratin-phony-type-producer cat and says to adam killer:
killer, i know killer...and adam killer says:he's playin buddy holly.
jerry lee gives me the once-over twice, pops the meerschaum out of the side of his leering suckhole and in a dilaudid-meets-ferriday drawl, slurs in my direction:
and then to adam killer:killer, buddy holly was my best friend in the world...killer, if you had enough sense to get killer here to play buddy holly you got more sense than i thought you had...and then to me killer again:son, you look more like buddy holly than buddy holly ever did!
here is a transcript of my comment to this guy:
christ, where did you get this?
oh, god, i'm dyin...who the fuck is dorothee? and where are her giant french balls hidden? and how does she materialize beside killer's piana like that? oh fuck, that's harold cowart playin' bass on this, the craunchiest vid i've never seen of gbof
rockin' my life away by the late great Mack Vickery, who divulged to me at one of jll's nesbit ranch birthday parties in answer to my questioning the significance of the seemingly random set of numbers with which jll introduces the song:
well, hoss, i used to play touch football with elvis at graceland and it's a quarterback play we used to run!
i said, oh...and smiled
see more buddy holly impersonator resume here:
*THE完 PERFECT完 AMERICAN な