Kung-Fu Boobs Award – BZ forever!
Since we started the best band in the world a couple of years ago, we’ve gone through a lot of shit, good and bad, some remembered and some mercifully hidden in the depths of a short term memory loss caused by alcohol (and possibly meth). We’ve toured the country, made friends, lost money, made enemies, stolen The Snowdroppers’ rider on countless occasions, changed drummers, almost been sued by the Wu-Tang clan and all kinds of other weird miscellanea that I don’t have time to go into the minutia of right now.
What we need to focus on is that BZ has always been there for us – whether hustling to get us extra money, beer, money for beers or just making sure that we’re happy at home, a band of terrible men (but fabulous performers) couldn’t have asked to be in better hands (and her rack only sweetened the deal!).
Now that she has been called away to fight the Religious Right back in the US, I can only say that I’m praying to the almighty, The Great Grizzler In The Sky, Sweet Honey Thief and Winter Sleep Dude, Bear God that she stay safe and return to us when she can.
We love that woman more than I can properly express, what with thrusting and pouring booze on my junk being my two main forms of communication.
Now, as a last act of greatness before she donned her dweomered jet pack and probably some kind of heavily ensorcelled artillery, BZ managed to enslave one Jono Barwick and bend him to her will.
So, from now on, contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org if you need to deal with us in any kind of professional capacity.
I sure hope that he knows what the fuck he is doing.