#charlie watts past away

[dont-touch-the-phlebotinum]

The first time Eddie calls Wayne 'Dad' he's three years old. He's been staying at Wayne's for a few days now; dropped off by his parents without warning and with the vague promise that they'd be back for him soon, already screaming at each other before they're back in the car and speeding off out of sight. Wayne doesn't even have a change of clothes for him, doesn't have any toys or books or much of an idea how to take care of a toddler. Luckily the kid seems happy enough getting into every nook and cranny of the trailer, and toddling around watching Wayne clean up in Eddie's wake like a particularly rambunctious shadow.

Right now he's sat on the kitchen floor, one of Wayne's baseball caps hanging off his tiny head, bashing happily at the array of pots and pans he's dragged out of the cupboards. It's one hell of a racket, but after three days of this either Wayne's headache can't get any worse or he's starting to get used to Hurricane Eddie. Besides, it's good to see the boy having fun, unbothered by whatever chaos has been going on at home.

The crashing comes to a sudden stop, silence ringing through the trailer, and Wayne looks over to see Eddie swaying in place, blinking like he's having a hard time keeping his eyes open. The boy's like a puppy, Wayne's learning. Either he's bouncing off the walls or he's asleep, not a whole lot of in-between.

"You tired, kid?"

"No," says Eddie, even as his head droops and a yawn near bigger than he is shakes its way through him.

"Uh-huh. Come on, Charlie Watts; let's get you to bed."

Eddie lets Wayne scoop him up into his arms with only a half-hearted whinge in response. He doesn't even have the energy to fight off Wayne's attempts to brush his teeth and scrub away the grime Eddie somehow manages to accumulate over the course of a day, already drifting off against Wayne's shoulder as he carries Eddie down the hall and tucks him into bed.

"Night, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Dad," Eddie murmurs as Wayne's about to turn off the light.

He freezes in place. The hell's he supposed to say to that? Your dad's not here, kid; God only knows when he's coming back? There's no need to upset the boy. But there'll be hell to pay if Wayne's brother comes back for Eddie only to find out he's taken to calling Wayne 'Dad' instead.

Luckily for Wayne, Eddie's fast asleep before he can figure out what to say for the best.

He presses a kiss to Eddie's mop of curls, and closes the door behind him.

.

Eddie's nine years old now. He's still short, still so skinny he looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in his life, close to bald 'cause the kid can't go two weeks without catching lice, but he seems happier these days than he has in a good long while. That's all that matters to Wayne.

It's his first birthday since Wayne officially became Eddie's guardian – probably the first birthday anyone's ever given a shit, considering the way Eddie's eyes turn to saucers when Wayne hands him his gift.

"Holy shit!" Eddie says as he opens the case and pulls the acoustic guitar from inside. It's not much, just a beaten up old thing Wayne bought off one of the guys at work, but Eddie clutches it reverently, pulls it into his lap like he's amazed he's being allowed to touch it.

"Watch your language," scolds Wayne. He doesn't have the heart to be stern, though. Not when Eddie's staring down at the guitar as if it's the greatest thing he's ever seen.

He watches with a smile as Eddie plucks tentatively at the strings. Maybe he'll come to regret giving Eddie a way to make even more noise than usual, but it might at least manage to hold his focus, maybe even keep him still for more than five minutes at a time.

And God knows, after the past couple years the kid deserves something special.

"You like it?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Dad." Eddie's head snaps up, and his grin falters as he looks over at Wayne sat beside him. "Uncle Wayne, I mean," he says quickly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He gives Eddie a gentle pat on the back. It's enough for the kid to brighten up again, his attention already back to his guitar, the moment forgotten. "Now how 'bout you take that to your room and start practicing while I fix us some breakfast?"

"Birthday pancakes?" says Eddie as he follows Wayne into the kitchen with a hopeful grin, still clutching the guitar against his chest.

"I don't remember promising birthday pancakes."

"I remember, old man."

"Who're you calling old, you little punk?" Wayne says, and shoos Eddie back out of the kitchen. "Go on, get out of here."

He watches Eddie bound down the hall to his bedroom, and after a moment the first clumsy notes fill the trailer.

 .

When Eddie's fourteen Wayne gets a call from the sheriff's office, and he arrives at the station to find Eddie cuffed to one of the desks, sullen and stubborn and looking too much like Wayne's brother for comfort. It's not the first time Eddie's landed himself in trouble, but it is the first time the cops have been involved.

He just prays it'll be the last. Wayne's seen this story play out enough times to know how it usually ends.

When he catches sight of Wayne waiting for him, Eddie just rolls his eyes.

"I 'spose you're about to tell me it was all Jeff's idea," says Wayne once they've piled back into the truck and put the police station firmly in the rear-view. He's not expecting an answer, doesn't expect Eddie to grunt more than a few words at a time to him lately, but the awkward silence is still too alien for him to let it sit.

"It was my idea."

"So you're stealing cars now, huh?" He keeps his tone light, as if they're just talking about Eddie's latest obsession, like always. As if his newfound hobby isn't breaking into cars over in Loch Nora.

"I wasn't gonna steal–" Eddie starts, before he's clamping his mouth shut like don't talk to cops extends to Wayne as well now. He glares back out of the window.

"You know next time it happens the sheriff ain't gonna be so lenient."

"Thanks for the lecture, Dad." Eddie lets out a bitter laugh that can't quite mask the hurt behind it. "Oh, wait a sec…"

Wayne sighs. The subject of Eddie's dad has come up enough times these past few months they're gonna have to have a good long talk about him sooner or later. "That what this is about?"

"No."

"But he's been on your mind, right?"

He glances over at Eddie. He's slumped even lower in his seat, arms folded tight across his skinny chest, and determinedly not making eye contact.

"Trust me, kid, he ain't anything worth looking up to."

"Yeah, well what if I'm a screw up just like he is?"

"You're not."

Eddie scoffs. Wayne watches him until the light up ahead turns green.

"The way I see it," he says, "your life's 'bout to fork in two different directions. You keep on down this road, you end up either dead or in a cell right next to your old man's."

Eddie's quiet beside him, but Wayne can tell he's listening, can see the little furrow to his brow as he turns the words over in his mind.

"Or, you take all that pain and anger you got inside you, and you turn it into something worthwhile."

Finally, Eddie looks back at him. "Like what?"

"Don't have to be big. Don't have to be important. All that matters is it means something to you."

They slip back into silence for the rest of the drive, but it's a more comfortable kind this time, a thoughtful kind of silence. Wayne kills the engine and they climb out onto the dirt in front of the trailer.

"Uncle Wayne?" says Eddie, his voice small. He's still lingering by the truck when Wayne peers back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry," he says. "For being an asshole."

"You're not an asshole, Ed. And you ain't about to turn into one. Not on my watch."

Eddie's mouth twitches. It's not a smile, but it isn't far off. "Promise?"

"Yeah, kid. I promise," says Wayne with a smile of his own, and he curls an arm around Eddie's shoulders, hugging him tight as he steers them inside.

 .

At nineteen, Eddie's lying in a hospital bed.

Wayne's been sat at his bedside for God only knows how long at this point – the days have blurred into a steady stream of doctors and beeping machines, hours and minutes fallen to the wayside. The only time he leaves Eddie's side is when Eddie's friends come by to keep their own vigil.

They're all still waiting for him to wake up.

One hand clasping Eddie's, Wayne reads the paper to him to pass the time. He knows Eddie doesn't much care about what's happening out in the real world, and nor does Wayne right now, but any books of Eddie's are lost in whatever mess the quake left of their trailer, and Wayne needs something to keep his eyes from the angry red bruises circling Eddie's neck.

He looks like he's been strung up. The way the town has been baying for Eddie's blood, it wouldn't be much surprise. The rest of his injuries, though – well, no-one seems to have any explanation for those.

Maybe one day Eddie will be able to provide one himself.

There's a tiny noise above him, and Wayne's head snaps up to Eddie's face. He's watched every flutter of Eddie's eyelids, every twitch of his fingers, heart in his throat until the moment passes and Eddie sleeps on. But this time, Eddie stirs.

"Eddie?"

"Dad?"

He frowns with the effort of cracking his eyes open, struggling under the weight of his own body.

"It's all right," Wayne says. He brushes his thumb over Eddie's cheek, careful to avoid the stitches, and squeezes the hand tucked in his tighter. Eddie grips him back. "I'm right here."

Eddie's bleary eyes focus on Wayne, crinkling at the corners with the smile that spreads across his face. "Dad," he rasps again as tears spill down his cheeks.

Wayne's face is wet with his own as he presses a kiss to Eddie's forehead. "Welcome back, son."

[waugh-bao]

Do you happen to have that full article from Esquire? I’ve looked for it online but never found a source that didn’t require a subscription.

Charlie Watts: The Esquire Interview

Robin Eggar, Esquire, June 1998

Emotional rescue

I'VE MADE more of a mess of my Toronto hotel room in 30 minutes than Charlie Watts has after three weeks in his suite. At 3pm, Charlie is in casual mode. He is wearing his slippers and watching the climax of The Assassin starring Stallone and Banderas. As he's seen it before, he turns the sound down, but he doesn't turn it off until after the film has finished. That wouldn't be polite to the actors. Politeness is bred into Charlie's bones as sure as the rhythm he keeps.

He places the remote control on the coffee table, precisely six inches from the pile of glossy magazines. "It always goes there," he says, "it goes there every day because that is where I know it will be."

There is a ghetto blaster above the TV. All the CD cases are packed standing to attention. Only the Ben Webster album he has been playing is allowed to lie askew. "I am fastidious," he confirms, "but not as fastidious as Bill Wyman. I like to control my own environment. From that wall to that window, yes, but outside of the door, no."

Where in this precise environment, I ask, is Charlie's sketchbook? For 30 years he has been drawing his hotel rooms. He can tell from looking at these drawings what mood he was in. Those with only a few abstract strokes means he was either "depressed, drunk or in a hurry" while others which are painstakingly exact, every bedknob and duvet elaborately drawn, are the legacy of gigs when he was "bored, unable to sleep or on drugs".

"You know," he says, "some of the beds are the same as they were 20 years ago."

The second bedroom serves as Charlie's dressing-room. The curtains are half drawn so his suits never realise they have left home. They are never unpacked but remain in three travelling wardrobes. Fifteen exquisitely-cut, hand-tailored suits, some single-breasted, some double, each resting on a wooden coat hanger inscribed "Charlie Watts Esq". Three pairs of hand-stitched shoes resting on white tissue paper sparkle in the gloom. I wonder if Charlie polishes them himself. I know he flattens all his own jacket lapels and collars. When arriving at a hotel, he won't go out to dinner until he's put everything away and folded his pyjamas.

"Nobody touches my things," he says. "I don't like people fussing around me."

Respectable

Bette Davis once remarked that if you hang around long enough they make a legend of you. Charlie Watts describes being in the Rolling Stones as six years of playing and 30 years of hanging around. Over the years, I've seen him play in stadia and concert halls with the Stones and in Ronnie Scott's with his Jazz Quintet. He has always been elegant, sophisticated and utterly cool. Cool the way Stonehenge is cool.

I've heard the stories. I know he's eccentric but it's that dotty, self-deprecating, traditional, English eccentricity that only money and good breeding or taste allow. Now I'm in a hotel room with him and he's wearing slippers and talking about sketching phones. What if he's a hi-hat short of a full kit?

Then I remember he's in the Rolling Stones and it all makes sense again. How does a man maintain self and centre when he inhabits a world that has been out of his control for virtually all his adult life? To escape the treacherous shifting sands of the present, Charlie Watts has rooted himself firmly in the past. He has always known who he wants to be and stuck with it. He dresses bespoke in a combination of English country gentleman and Thirties' Hollywood. He maintains the laconic speech patterns of the Fifties bebopper, Soho phrasing overlaid on North London, wandering around and off the point, all short phrases and repetitions. Sometimes it is hard to tell if he is joking because he takes doing interviews very seriously – but his enthusiasms, once breached, flood the room.

He was always old in spirit, and now that age has finally caught up with Charlie, it suits him. Like all the Stones, he is small in stature. His movements are precise where his speech is not. The glacier of time has transformed his impassive face from lugubrious to compelling. Once smooth, it is now a place of nooks and crannies, fissures and ridges. Once engaged, his dark-blue eyes will sparkle from inside deep caves. His silver hair, thinning on top, is swept back. When he smiles he only uses half an upper lip, but it is enough.

He has been a Rolling Stone for 35 years. Brian Jones is long dead, Mick Taylor long gone, Bill Wyman retired five years. Ronnie Wood's been the new boy for 22 years. Mick and Keith still write the songs, do the interviews and squabble. Charlie keeps the time and the peace.

"After 30 years at the top of the tree, the chemistry of the Rolling Stones in one room is pretty explosive," director Julien Temple told me during a video shoot in 1993. "If you are looking after one ego, you may be bruising another. Charlie to me is an incredible person; he's like the Solomon of the Rolling Stones. If there's a disagreement or a decision to be made, he's always the highest authority on the mountain."

Street fighting man

Everyone who works for the Stones adores Charlie. "Be nice to him," they tell me, "he's so gentle." Which is true. He's a gentleman – but just because he has sublimated his ego inside the Stones doesn't mean he has no pride. Keith Richards, who has himself been on the receiving end of Charlie's anger, has a telling anecdote.

"Charlie biffed Mick once in Holland. Mick had a couple of drinks and he can get a bit silly. So, about five in the morning, he calls up Charlie and says, 'Is my drummer there?' There was this ominous silence at the other end of the phone and I'm like, 'Mick, I don't think that was a very clever thing to say.' Twenty minutes later, Charlie knocks on my door, Savile Row suit, tie, polished brogues and says to Mick, 'Don't ever call me your drummer.' Smack! And there's this long table with a platter of smoked salmon on it and the window's open and there's a canal outside and Mick falls on the platter and starts sliding down the table towards the open window."

Charlie had never wanted to join the band full time, preferring the security of his day job as a designer. Anyway, they were an r'n'b band and he was a jazz man. He still worries about not being good enough. Yet his sparse, precise drumming is as essential to the Stones sound as Jagger's voice and Richards's five-string guitar riffs.

"It wouldn't be the same band if Charlie wasn't in it," says Mick Jagger. "I've never played with a drummer quite like him. He really swings, that's the bottom of it. He started as a jazz drummer; rock'n'roll was a dirty word to him."

It still is.

"Even when I was young, I always felt it was a silly world because I was used to another way of looking at music," says Charlie. "It is a silly teenage world for grown people to be in making their living at – ie me and you. I don't mean to knock it because it is a very enjoyable life for me. I make a very lucrative living at it – albeit bloody hard work, I might add – but I don't make the sort of money people think I make because I don't write songs.

"Being in the Stones is a sycophantic thing, that's why I never really pay attention to it," he continues. "People say, 'Oh, you are a great drummer' and after the 10th number one single, you start to think, 'Maybe they're right.' But you only have to put on a record of yourself and then put on a record by someone you love to know the difference. Every time I see Elvin Jones play it levels me.

"The things my wife and I admire have nothing to do with the Rolling Stones or the pop world. Even in the Sixties and Seventies, I was never in that world. I was in the band – I hope – but it has always been a job to me. They happened to be my friends and I happened to very much enjoy doing it, but it was something I did with them. Then I go home and it's different. I can divorce the two things very easily. I am a Gemini. Home to me is Stravinsky and Picasso, Miles and Fred Astaire, and out there is all this other crap going on, groupies and all that rubbish."

He must have been a serious child.

"No, I'm not serious even now, really," he says, lip unmoving. "I just have this miserable image." However, when he was a kid Christmas dinner could get a mite confusing. There were five Charlies round the dinner table – father, grandfather, uncle, cousin and him. "We all had nicknames," he says. What was his?

"Boy."

Some girls

He grew up in post-blitz London in a prefab house in Wembley. He remembers sleeping in his grandma's house just behind King's Cross where his grandfather ran a taxi depot. His father delivered parcels for the railway on a horse and cart, then he got a Scammell and finally a Bedford. Off duty, dad was a dapper dresser "in that London villain-fringe type of crowd; very smart always, clean socks, whatever colour went with whatever, never flashy".

At 12, he heard Uncle Charlie playing Earl Bostick's 'Flamingo'. So he rolled a newspaper up, painted it orange and tried to keep time. His neighbour, David Green, shared his love for jazz and played bass. They swapped Duke Ellington and Gerry Mulligan records and jammed together. "David went on to play with those guys," says Charlie with an awe he otherwise reserves for Jim Laker and Shane Warne. "Imagine, my next-door neighbour played with Ben Webster. He plays with me when I do my jazz thing."

Working as a graphic designer in a Regent Street art studio introduced him to Stravinsky. In Soho he hung out with the Flamingo jazz crowd, wearing long, button-down-collar shirts and seersucker jackets. Nobody ever asked him to dance because he was too busy watching the drummer. He was drumming for Alexis Korner when the bass player came in with Shirley Shepherd, a friend from art college. According to Bill Wyman's diaries, Charlie's never looked at another woman since.

"My wife has kept me very sane," he says. "I'd have probably ended up a drug addict nutter in Soho if I had been single all the way through. It's very difficult to keep a romance alive for 35 years. The only good side about touring is the absence makes you realise how much you miss someone."

He does not talk about Shirley or Seraphina or Charlotte. He talks about "my wife", "my daughter", "my granddaughter" as if they were absolutes, as if there could be no others. He and Keith are the old-fashioned ones, the Romantic Stones.

Jumping Jack Flash

If his wife and home provide his haven from the business of music, it is his wardrobe that provides him with pure pleasure. For the past 30 years, his style has remained constant. His only lapse of taste came when he grew a droopy Zapata moustache in 1966, though Seventies fashions remain a sore point.

"Keith looked fantastic in those days. Mick looked all right, but then Mick dresses up. If Keith puts something on, he lives in it. He hates new things, like I do. He looked fantastic with the great, long scarf round him. It looked silly on me, but I had to wear it for photo sessions. I used to borrow his Afghani belts with bloody great buckles hanging off them. I'd hold them and they looked fantastic. I put them on and I looked daft."

"Clothes to me are a passion." Charlie corrects himself: "No, a love that can border on a passion. It is soothing, very much so. At home, I love having a wardrobe. It is a great source of pleasure to look in a cupboard and see five different types of overcoat. I feel them.

"I met my tailor through Mick. Most people I meet are through Mick. He gets invited to everything – that's how I met Jim Laker. He took me along to see Tommy Nutter at his shop in his Savile Row. Roy and Joseph, the two boys who worked with him, kept his shop on when he went up the road.

"It is a whole art form. I love it. The choosing of the cloth; whether you have two buttons or three. I love discussing it, the fitting – ah, the finished thing. It is marvellous how someone can do that out of a roll of cloth."

Chittleborough & Morgan have been making Charlie's suits for over 30 years. In addition, he has clothes made by Terry Haste at Hackett's in Exeter, Schiaperelli in Paris and David Sienzi on Madison Avenue. His major gripe with Savile Row is that "they make the thing up like a piece of sculpture, whereas the Eyeties cut with no padding at all and the material just drops".

His shoes are made by Cleverley in Royal Arcade, W1 ("All my life I have had a pair of penny loafers. I've had them made for me, I've bought the cheapest, I've had them all"); his riding boots by Foster & Son of Jermyn Street, SW1. At his home Devon, he wears plus-fours, which he considers "the best thing for the country".

"I should have been born in 1810," muses Charlie. "I live like a Victorian landowner. I get up, decide what to wear, have breakfast, and stroll about like the lord of the manor. I walk around the stud and look at the horses. We have a horse farm. It's my wife's, really – it's her passion. We've had horses ever since we were married but I've never ridden. I do have the most wonderful outfits to go riding in: britches and three pairs of boots. I have some lovely old carriages.

"The problem about what I do is that I play the drums or I do nothing. It's embarrassing. I'm either away from home and nobody's seen me for weeks or else I'm at home and under everybody's feet. I'm often told to go out and do something by my wife.

"I just acquired a very rare picture of Billie Holiday," says Charlie. "I collect things, you know. My wife goes mad. We land up with lots of things because I can't resist them. I never know what to do with them once I buy them. I hate to chuck anything away."

Charlie is a compulsive collector and hoarder. He has a wall lined with records: so many, he often can't decide which to play. In the same breath he regrets having swapped specific records, right down to the American tax stamp on the label, for drum bits back in the Fifties. He is an expert on Georgian silver, the American Civil War, Nelson memorabilia, rare books, antique firearms, 18th-century erotic literature and jazz photographs. He buys antique dolls for Shirley.

Charlie loves cricket – an obsession he shares with Jagger. But while the singer still has to try and hit every ball for six, in his youth Charlie was a wily spin bowler. Mick is forever faxing him Test scores he's plucked off the Internet while Charlie, rooted in the past, collects memorabilia with the advice of his friend, former Wisden editor David Trigg. He recently purchased Don Bradman's old blazer for £3,600 and a football signed by the Tottenham double team of 1960 (a surprising purchase for a former Wolves supporter).

He buys things for the same reason he wears Savile Row suits: he considers them beautiful. He owns a 1937 Lagonda Rapide but can't drive. "Mad, isn't it?" He smiles like a kid caught in some dastardly mischief. "I'd always wanted a Lagonda because of the name. I saw it at Coys [in Kensington] and fell in love."

His three-century-old country estate is home to a menagerie of dogs, a few cats and 150 Arabian horses. "My wife's herd of mares is the best in the world. Outside of Poland we have one of best studs in Europe," he says proudly. "When I see a Polish Arabian mare she is just amazing – like Rita Hayworth – but to my wife she is much more beautiful than any human. It's very sad because one day they just won't be there. A Rembrandt will always be there but the horses will just be a memory. To my wife, that makes them more endearing. It is life. I have problems with that sometimes. It's too close, too hard.”

"The thing about animals is that they do need looking after. My wife doesn't see that as a problem; I'm not as generous in my life. Must come from all my hangers on."

Nineteenth nervous breakdown

Why have so many of the musicians he admires felt the need to destroy themselves with booze or drugs? He thinks it might be the creative muse but more likely it's boredom.

"Most of the time on the road," sighs Charlie, "I have nothing to do. I could ask someone to lift me out of bed, carry me to the show and, as long as I was well, fit and played well enough for two hours, I could be carried back to bed, get up in three days for the next one and no one would mind. Your whole life is two hours on stage which is a very short thing, a big burst and then you can go away. Left in that nothing area."

Which brings us neatly on to the second most uncool thing (after that moustache) Charlie ever did. Sure, he used to take a bit of speed, toke on the odd jazz cigarette and drink Scotch and Coke before going on stage, but in the mid-Eighties he started on smack. It was a strange time to take up a habit. On the surface the Rolling Stones appeared to be secure – not just financially, but personally. Keith was clean (for Keith) and married with small children; Jagger had a solo career and young children; Bill Wyman was sleeping with a young child (Mandy Smith); Charlie was gigging with his Big Band, playing the music he loved.

"I went completely berserk," he says. "When we were recording the Dirty Work album, I was mad on drink and drugs. I became a completely different person, not a nice one, it didn't sit right with me. I was trying to be somebody else – either Humphrey Bogart or Charlie Parker – but it didn't work. I'm not very good on drink. I'm a sloppy drunk. I wake up in the morning and it's a big thing with me. The next day would be horrendous and then there were the hangovers. I can't drink and I can't take drugs.

"It was one of the worst periods in my life. It was a crisis for me and it was in my midlife. I nearly lost my marriage. I got away from my wife spiritually and mentally. We weren't together, even though we were living together. I tried these things I'd never done before, like heroin. You can take heroin and nothing happens, then all of a sudden you're hooked on it. I took speed all the time: I'd live three days and sleep two; live three, sleep two. You don't look too good at the end of that. I felt so ill; I looked like Dracula. It was a minor league thing and I stopped it all myself but it was awful for the family."

Charlie's not prone to introspection, but once he's into a subject he doesn't stop. I have to ask why he felt the need to do it. It was, he recalls, a time of upheaval. In reality, the Stones were at their lowest ebb; Keith and Mick were hardly speaking. Devastated by the death of his father in 1981, Charlie felt rootless. He even wanted to quit the band.

"The worst decision we ever made was returning to England to put my daughter through school," he continues. "That was where it all went wrong. My daughter was very happy where we lived in France. She went through hell at school. It has been a source of regret for me and my wife ever since. When we moved to Devon, I was really bad there and my wife suddenly disappeared. A few months after that, I stopped drinking. It took a few years to get that out of my system. It was the best thing I ever did."

With Keith clean, perhaps it was his turn to play the rock'n'roll suicide. "Keith handles whatever he is, or does, or has been, very well," he concedes. "I could never do that, but I was trying to do that to be like him. The barmy thing is I lived with him so much I almost was, without the drug taking. Drugs are a cry to be recognised or loved or whatever, which we all do – ordinary people, that is. Musicians tend to think they are different, special. My wife thinks musicians are the most selfish people in the world."

Not fade away

The Chicago crowd is in full cry. In his dressing-room, Charlie Watts, wearing tailored trousers and a zip-up woollen jacket to ward off the late September cold, is ready for the first night of the Stones '97-98 world tour. He is still worried that the staging won't work, that he won't be able to hear, that he'll make mistakes. If everything goes right, he might enjoy it.

"I've played to 600 people; I've played to 60,000 – and 60,000 is better," he confesses. "Musicians love adulation. It's a drug to a lot of people. I get terribly nervous. I don't know if I'm good. I play with a band, you know."

Charlie prefers to talk about jazz. He saw both Elvin Jones and Max Roach recently. They are both over 70, playing better than ever. "I can imagine retiring," he says. "I say that, but I think I'd get very bored and put on weight. In 15 years time, I'd love to think we'll still be going...It'll be me and Ronnie Wood, probably, but Keith won't let go yet, will he? He'll go on and on...and I don't think Mick could bear to be left out."

Charlie Watts raises an eyebrow as if to dismiss everything. "It's a funny thing, but I still feel out of place in this rock'n'roll world."

© Robin Eggar, 1998

[lyrasky]

Charlie Watts逝去 和訳【Miss You/ The Rolling Stones】解説 Hot Hot Love Song

Charlie Watts逝去 和訳【Miss You/ The Rolling Stones】解説 Hot Hot Love Song Lyraのブログへ #charliewatts #missyou #therollingstones #somegirls #CharlesRobertWatts #KeithRichards #Mick Jagger #RonnieWood #BillWyman #ローリングストーンズ #チャーリーワッツ #BillyPleston #IanMcLagan #MelCollins #SugarBlue #女たち

2021.8.24. Died peacefully at London Hospital … It seems to be Charlie. A masculine drummer who was devoted to the shadows though, RS1 Dresser has a strong RS1 quarrel 🤜 Not known for his gentlemanly appearance and appearance Actually No.1 in the Rolling Stones is Wild man who Charlie Watts. Charlie Watts R.I.P. I was so shocked that Charlie dies.and I have zoned from this morning. maybe RS…

[cleverwordsandotherstuffilike]

Mr. Watts has passed away at the age of 80 “We got back to the hotel about five in the morning and Mick called up Charlie. I said, don’t call him, not at this hour. But he did, and said, ‘Where’s my drummer?’ No answer … About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. There was Charlie Watts, Savile Row suit, perfectly dressed, tie, shaved the whole fucking bit. I could smell the cologne! I opened the door and he didn’t even look at me, he walked straight past me, got hold of Mick and said, ‘Never call me your drummer again.’ Then he hauled him up by the lapels … and gave him a right hook.” https://www.gq.com/story/charlie-watts-obituary

[newagesispage]

OCTOBER                           2021

 THE RIB PAGE

*****

We miss U Charlie Watts!!

*****

The Stones performed at a private party for Patriots owner Robert Kraft of all people. The test run looked like just that. Shark jumped. I am becoming disillusioned.

*****

SNL is back with Owen Wilson as first host of season 47. Kacey Musgraves is the musical guest. Episode 2 will have a ridic choice for host. Halsey will sing. I suppose $ is power with the Kardashians. I could think of about 10 million other people to host but more and more Lorne goes for the shiny object , what he THINKS people want instead of taking risk. Beck Bennett is out.

*****

Is everybody watching the Amber Ruffin Show?? I loved her before but now… I learn so much from her show. Sometimes it takes a comic to get to the real serious shit. For example: Have you heard of drowning towns? Towns like Oscarville, Kowaliga, York hill, Seneca Village, Prentiss and countless other black towns that were drowned out to make lakes for the local whites. Central Park was also made after a black community was erased from history. Development displacement? Alleyway dwelling authority? Even those rabid for history can find out new things everyday. Thanks Amber!!

*****

Bob Woodward and Robert Costa are finally giving us Peril !!!!!!  I’ve been waiting!!** I was in political nerd heaven on Sept. 24 when Yamiche hosted Robert, Bob and Weijia Jang on Washington Week. All of my favorite pundits all together at one table, my dream team!!

*****

Iman looked great at the Met Gala!! Other great looks belonged to AOC, Tessa Thompson, Maluma, Helen Lasichanb and Pharrell Williams. Gigi Hadid, Kiki Layne, Ashton Sanders, Hailee Steinfeld, Kehlani, Zoe Kravitz, Michaela Cole, Lili Reinhart, Kate Hudson and Shai Gilgeous- Alexander were great. Whoopi Goldberg seemed a bit off.

*****

Jason Isbell is back with his latest offering, Georgia Blue.

*****

I see a lot of Title Max type establishment are closing down. Are they a thing of the past? Let’s hope.

*****

Law and Order is coming back to NBC for season 21. Dick Wolf will own 2 entire nights of television. Some of the old cast is reported to be returning.

*****

Britney Spears Father was suspended as her conservator.

*****

Timothy Chalamet, Rowan Atkinson, Sally Hawkins and Olivia Coleman will star in Wonka.

*****

The 2022 Super Bowl halftime show will bring us Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Mary J. Blige, Dr. Dre and Kendrick Lamar.

*****

People are doing test runs for school board positions to see if their political ideas will play well for the big leagues. If they don’t seem to work, at least they can sometimes change the rules in their own area.

*****

Joe Rogan got Covid.

*****

Lake Michigan beaches were closed down thanks to a US Steel plant chemical leak.

*****

Is this country the master of endless administrative work?  None of us should have been surprised at the red tape that the slowed down the end of the war in Afghanistan.** Uber donated 50k for rides and meals to the Afghans when they arrive.**And why do so many waste taxpayer $ on useless recounts and recalls when people need real help with food and healthcare? They must really hate humanity.

*****

R. Kelly was found guilty of 8 counts of sex trafficking and 1 count of racketeering.

*****

Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. – Dwight D. Eisenhower

*****

Texas has put a law into effect to allow most Texans to carry open without permit or training.

*****

Texas has banned abortion at about 6 weeks. Uber and Lyft will pay drivers legal fees if sued under Texas abortion law. Lyft donated $1mil to Planned Parenthood. ** Look for the ruling in the Mississippi law over Roe V. Wade in June 2022.**Hear us roar!** BTW.. Go Jen Psaki!!!!!!!

*****

They seriously banned plastic straws and abortion before assault rifles? – Eden Dranger

*****

Please stop banning abortions, the last thing the world needs is more Americans. –Sarah Beattie

*****

Women don’t inseminate themselves. Vasectomies are reversible. Should every man have one until he’s deemed financially and emotionally fit to be a Father? – Bradley Whitford

*****

90 year old William Shatner will go to space for Blue Origin.

*****

The Q Anon Shaman pled guilty to a felony for obstructing the Electoral College proceedings. I say 20 years and a $250K fine.** 600 others have been indicted.

*****

Days Alert: The Beyond Salem thing was ridic but it was so great to see some old characters.  Days is so great at visiting old family. Who can resist Shane, Austin and Carrie, Billie and the old Kristen? I do wish that Peacock would get their kinks out!! Back to the real Days: Are we smelling an Emmy for Susan Seaforth Hayes and Bill?? ** Good to have Abigail back. It is always fun to wonder which actress and or personality it will be. ** Deidre Hall got her star on the walk of fame.**And just in time for Halloween, the Devil is making a comeback. The end of the year in Salem is always the best!! It is so brave to give the 96 year old man the old switcheroo into the Dark Lord.  It was fun to see the grandkids discover Grandma Marlena’s story. Delicious!! Hail Satan!!** It is past time for Tate and Teresa to come back to town. Brady needs to be put in his place. And thanks for the Philip and Chloe flashbacks!!

*****

The breakdown of the vaccinated: 90% of Atheists, 86% Hispanic Catholic, 84% Agnostic, 79% White Catholic, 73% White mainline protestant, 70% Black mainline protestant, 57% white evangelical. 1 in 500 Americans have died of Covid.

*****

So Mike Lindell and Jim Baker have teamed up to sell children’s Bible pillows.** Piers Morgan has returned to the Murdoch organization by joining Fox. That sounds about right.

*****

Please stop saying the vaccine does not have severe side effects, I took my shots and now I’m alive and have to keep working. –Mohand Eishieky

*****

In theatres Oct. 22: The French Dispatch.** October also brings us a new season of Curb your enthusiasm and Oct. 17 will catch us up on Succession. Whew!!!

*****

So people under conservatorship are not free to marry who they want? What?

*****

46% of Americans believe in ghosts.

*****

Simone Biles, Mckayla Maroney and Aly Rasiman testified at  the Senate judiciary hearing about the FBI’s handling of accusations against Larry Nassar and it was eye opening!

*****

We wanted a no -nonsense Dem who pushes on and does not puss out.  I am a bit surprised to see we have it. There are so many pressing issues that I hope Biden works a bit more on Haiti though.

*****

The National Police Act was passed to celebrate cops. Still no police reform.

*****

John Mulaney and Olivia Munn are going to have a baby.

*****

The Emmy’s were a little different this year with more of a Golden Globe look.  Cedric the Entertainer hosted with Reggie Watts as DJ. Lots of minority noms but barely a win. It was a white people night. Ted Lasso had a great night. Mare of Eastown took home a few with Evan Peters, Julianne Nicholson and Kate Winslet. Now, Kate is great but how did Anya Taylor- Joy not walk away with that? Queens Gambit did win a couple and gave the longest speech with the seemingly arrogant director Scott Frank who opened up 2 page acceptance. Categories were tough but I was routing for Renee Elise Goldberry and Bowen Yang but perhaps next year. The people in England who had their own party for all the statues that the Crown won seemed to be having more fun! Hacks won for writing and directing and Jean Smart!! It was nice to see the Norm Macdonald love which was barely mentioned by Lorne but celebrated by John Oliver. Colbert ‘s election night special won as did JB Smoove. Hamilton won and Debbie Allen got the big one. I do not understand why real singers and or musicians have to be there for the in Memoriam. It takes me out of it a bit and concentrates the focus on them. Do they think that people will pay attention more? Do they want to keep the home audience or live audience from the bathroom?  My best dressed were Anya Taylor-Joy, Michaela Cole who won for I may destroy you, Jean Smart, Josh O’Connor, Kathryn Hahn, Billy Porter, MJ Rodriguez, Keenan Thonpson, Leslie Odom Jr., Catherine O’Hara, Trevor Noah, Eugene Levy, Keri Russell and Matthew Rhys, Bowen Yang,  Anthony Anderson, Leslie Grossman, Amber Ruffin, Allyson Felix, Renee Elise Goldberry, Samira Wiley and Rege- Jean Page. My worst were Sarah Paulson, Gillian Anderson,  Beanie Feldstein, Elizabeth Olsen and Aidy Bryant. To me the best part of the show was the enthusiasm of Conan and the way he injected himself into much of the evening .He was the show.  Go Conan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*****

Next year there must be some Emmys for Sarah Paulson and Cobie Smulders in Impeachment!!!!!

*****

Oh Boy!! The Eyes of Tammy Faye!!

*****

Looking forward to the Electric Life of Louis Wain with Benedict Cumberbatch and Claire Foy.

*****

Abba has a new album!!

*****

Shang Chi is the biggest Labor Day opening with a $71.4 mil opening.

*****

Sen. Amy Klobuchar has announced she has breast cancer.

*****

Is it the 70’s? A streaker ran past the studio of the Today show.

*****

Rascal Flatts Joe Don Rooney was arrested for DUI.** Nicholas Cage was thrown out of a prime rib pace in Vegas after being drunk and disorderly.

*****

Jennifer Eckhart has filed a lawsuit against former Fox news anchor Ed Henry for rape and retaliation after allegedly being handcuffed and beaten.

*****

Scarlett Johansson has settled her Disney lawsuit.

*****

Pete Buttigieg and Chasten had twins they named Penelope Rose and Joseph August.

*****

I noticed a commercial for Dancing with the Stars. Are we onto the E list because I have heard of hardly any of these people. ‘Stars’is really stretching it. And as I post this I see there are some covid issues there as well.

*****

Virgin River was renewed for 2 more seasons.

*****

Trevor Noah is right? Why do they stop giving lollipops to adults at the doctor?

*****

Jon Stewart is back on Apple tv with ‘The problem with Jon Stewart.

*****

Brooklyn 99 had about the best finale (other than Newhart) that I can recall. I had my fingers crossed that Chelsea would be back. Will they honor us like they did in the show and come back for a special about once a year? That would be fucking awesome!!

*****

Don’t expect compliments from an insecure person.- Mr. Pickles

*****

Thousands and thousands of people are in need. Haitian refugees and other immigrants have seen nothing like this what with assassination, a hurricane and earthquake. The Southern border is a mess.** Why does Fox news keep telling refugees the border is open as they sit back and laugh at Biden’s predicament.  Spreading false info to intentionally hurt poor, distressed people has no end for them.

*****

Do companies know how fucked up their employment websites are? It is true that some people do not want to work. It is true that people schedule interviews and don’t show up. It is also true that companies have made it so hard to apply that many can’t. I suppose it is easier for them but the poor who may really want to work have a hard time. Paper applications are almost completely gone. The old fashioned way of walking into low paying job sites and finding a connection with a manager rarely exist. Some places only accept texts or have long ridiculous psych tests that a working Mother may not have time for. A Father working many hours already, may not be able to go to the library to get online if they cannot afford a computer. Many websites tell you that there no positions available in your area while there is a huge sign in front of the establishment. Can’t find people to work.. Gee I wonder why?? And treat people with respect once you find them, how about that?

*****

Keep your head up in failure, and your head down in success. –Jerry Seinfeld

*****

Hey.. There was a van air B’n B biz going that got busted. Hey.. The poor need vaca’s too. It is wrong but If they are willing to sleep in a van, why not. I truly think that many do not understand how much people are struggling.

*****

Free coffee day came and went but only a few places really gave you free coffee without rules to govern the promo. Some places wanted to sell you something else and some made you belong to their club. Starbucks held that customers had to come inside for the free cup of Joe, handicapped or not.

*****

One would think the Republicans would run out of $ for recounts but they have deep pockets. Just think how much good they could do for the huddled masses with that scratch.

*****

Sad to lose Mick Brigden, protégé of Bill Graham who managed The Stones and worked with Frampton, Dylan and Santana.** And the comics were very vocal about the loss of Norm Macdonald. He was one of a kind and he will be missed!

*****

R.I.P. Ruth Marx, Lee Scratch Perry, Willard Scott, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Isadore Bleckman, George Wein, Michael K. William,George Holliday, Anthony Johnson,  Basil Hoffman, Al Harrington,Willie Garson, Mick Brigden, Tommy Kirk and Norm Macdonald.

[cthomashoodstory]

Best Years but Not in the Same Way (26)

Calum Hood x Reader

Previous Part

Hi I’m back again after this long time, i hope u guys still waiting for this story!!! I’m so excited wrote this part and next part!!! Enjoy guys!

Disclaimer: english isn’t my first language so… you know.

Masterlist

-

Since the surprise announcement you made with Calum earlier, the paparazzi went crazy (again). They always came whenever you went out somewhere, they followed you everywhere you go, especially you didn’t own any vehicles and you always counted on online taxi.

Suddenly, your life is being a highlight of the year again. Like, the ex of famous male singer has moved on and dating her fellow bestfriend. It suck to be famous and everyone’s eyes are all over you.

They keep asking the same question over and over; are you still in touch with Justin? Did Justin knew you’re dating? How’s Justin’s reaction? Are they dumb? You hadn’t contacted him since the break up and they knew exactly You avoided him, you avoided every questions related to him. You didn’t even care about him anymore.

And yet they really had a nerve to asked that just only for a headline.

As you were predict before, few paps been outside the studio building you were came to. You went inside with an extra effort because they really blocking your way in.

As usual petty questions came out from their mouths while took pictures of me and Calum. But we really ignored it like what’s the point if i or Calum answered their questions? It would caused a world war three. Lol.

After we got inside the building, we walked to the studio room and we meet our fellow friends Ashton, Luke, Michael. And you realized there were your other songwriting friends like Andrew Watt, Ryan Tedder, Louis Bell, Ali Tamposi, and Charlie Puth.

“Hey Palvin,” Charlie looking you confused when he saw you and Calum holding hands. “Oh i forgot. Congrats for you both.” He got up and you hugged him.

“Thanks.” You said to Charlie. “So…,” you said it while looked at them one by one as a sign for them to explain to you their project.

Then Ryan Tedder explained to you. “Oh, we wrote lyrics and Charlie and Andrew are making the beat and i called Luke immediately because i felt this song is really suits them.”

You nodded and Charlie showed you the demo that finished days ago.

“So what do you think?” Andrew asked you after the song played. “It’s pretty sick to be honest.”

You nodded at his comment. “Yes, i love it so much. It’s very thrilling and i can’t wait for the final release.” You were very excited because the moment Charlie played the demo, you really fall in love to the beat and also Luke’s voice really matched the whole song.

After hours staying on the studio, mostly joking around with friends, then we shared our thoughts about music industry, producing, lyrics and all related to music, you and Calum decided to went home.

As you walked out of the building, paps swarmed you and Calum.

“Hey Saara, what’s the thing you did at the studio?”

“How was your day, Calum?”

“You two looks good together.”

“Any new project for 5sos?”

You looked at Calum, his face was straight and ignored all of the questions. And we kept walking to the parking lot.

“Is your relationship and Justin good?”

“Any comment about Justin’s marriage?”

“Are you jealous of her past relationship with Justin Bieber?”

The moment you heard the last question, you stopped walking and Calum immediately stopped too because he was confused why you stopped.

“Can you please, for once in your lifetime, be respectful to my boyfriend? He’s literally stood beside me and all you care was asking me irrelevant questions? Please. I don’t care if you all raining me with ex questions, but when I’m with him, you better be asked about us or shut your damn mouth.” You walked faster than before so you and Calum could arrived to the car and get away from them.

After we arrived at the car, we left the parking lot back to your apartment.

“Wow, what was that about? You’ve been such a badass.” He started the conversation.

You chuckled. “Those people need to be shut. I’m honestly tired with all those questions.”

“So what do you think about our new upcoming single?” He asked you as a distraction of this situation.

“I love it already. It’s so amazing, Luke’s voice is so matched to the lyric, and the bass line, i can imagine you performing with that cool bass line.” You gave him a positive comment because you knew that song would be a hit even you only heard the demo.

-

“Hi sister,” Mali greeted you when you answered her facetime call.

After Calum drove you off to your apartment, you immediately opened your laptop and get ready to have a virtual ‘meeting’ with Mali because today is the schedule for you and her to discuss her new upcoming single. She asked you for a help and you felt so honored to be a part of her project.

You waved to her through the web camere. “Hi Mali, how you doing?” You were so excited to talk to her even though you texted her everyday.

“I’m fine, what about you?” She asked you back while she sipped her drink.

“I’m good. Wait, why your room is so dark? Oh my God I’m so sorry I forgot, timezone.” You giggled. “So it’s midnight there? OMG Mali, I’m so sorry, we supposed to FaceTime at your local time, not mine.”

Then she laughed. “Don’t say sorry, sister. I’m the one who needs your help. Don’t worry, i took my coffee since hours ago.” She raised her glass. “How’s you and Calum? Everything’s good?”

You smile and nodded. “Yes. We’re good.” “Thank you… for always supporting me.”

“I’ve always liked you since the first time we met back in 2014. You were so kind, friendly, smart and i knew that you’re a good person. I knew that you’re the right person for my brother and i will always support you till the end of time. Past is just a past and we have to left it behind and move on to the future.” Her short speech almost made you cry. Because she’s a very lovely person and you love her so much.

“Virtual hug for you, sister.” That’s the first time of you to called her ‘sister’. Not because you didn’t want to, but you were shy and also scared to called her that because ‘the past’ and also scared she would rejected you. “So i had this lyric i made and i kept it for myself and i wanna show it to you.”

You opened the notebook. “So the lyric is kinda saying sorry for everything that happened and the person is kinda missed all the memories and she felt sad. Sorry I’m suck at explaining.” You grinned and you took your guitar beside you.

“Please show me.” Said Mali.

You started to strum the guitar. “I miss laying in the park, i miss the walks out after dark

You were my first and you'll be the last

I miss the rhythm of your heart, i miss your head laid on my chest

You always said that I was the best, no one ever spoke to me like you did

And I miss you, Cal, and it's hard to take and I can't be saved

I'm sorry

That I didn't give it all to you, I'm sorry

Don't look away 'cause I gotta say I'm sorry

Just hold me 'cause the words will fade, I'm sorry

That I didn't give it all to you.” You finished the first verse and chorus and Mali gave you an applause.

“Saara, that was beautiful.” She looked so stunned. “That was meaningful.”

Yes, that lyric was meaningful to you because you wrote it years ago back in 2015 when you were ‘separate’ from Calum and you felt so guilty about it. You didn’t even had a chance to say sorry to him and instead you wrote this songs as a reminder for you that he was your first special man that came into your life. You were so blinded by your obsession and couldn’t see that the man who always there for you was Calum and you were so glad that you’ve finally opened your eyes.

Then you smiles to her. “I will email you the rest of the lyric and let me know what you think.”

-

To be continued

Next Part

[keith-the-hoe]

The Glimmer Hoes Master Plan| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: [X]

Episode Two: [X]

Episode Three: [X]

Episode Four: [X]

Episode Five: Slaughter House

Warnings:

This whole thing is plain stupid and a waste of time. It may contain violence, sex scenes and a shit ton of no no words. Do not read if you are a five year old. No but seriously, do not read if you are under age. Lolz.

Writer's notes: Oh wowie! This is the last episode of this crack fanfic. What a crazy ride! I have no idea where this is going lead to so it's probably going to leave you in a long state of confusion. This one is going to be just slightly longer than the previous episodes so I'm sorry about that lolz. Thank you for reading this messed up story. Have fun.

------------------

Cast:

Mick Jagger

Keith Richards

Charlie Watts

Bill Wyman

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

David Bowie

Ronnie Wood

--------------------------

"All aboard! Next stop, the cat house!"

A tall man with curly blonde hair yelled from across the balcony. Charlie happened to be the dumb whore who woke up first. He heard the man yelling which angered him so much. The other hoes were still asleep so he quietly leaped over Bill and headed out to the patio. He spotted the dumbass who was yelling a bunch of nonsense.

"Leave them be...." A sickly voice came from behind Charlie. He quickly turned to look only to see a pale Mick sitting on the floor covered in blood. Charlie's eyes widen and began to fear for his life. Mick's eyes were all droopy and looked right at Charlie.

"Wot in bloody hell have you done Mick!?" He yelled in fear. Mick took a deep breath.

"I didn't do a damn thing!" Mick responded. "Those damn bastards attacked me!" He pointed at the man with curly hair and another one with dark hair. They were both tossing random shit into the pool to see if the item would float. Charlie was utterly confused. He looked back at Mick.

"Sweet mother of God dad shoes penis plant....." Charlie said he just shook his head in pure disappointment. The whore of The Rolling Stones let two other whores of Led Zeppelin beat the shit of him? How did that even work? He just wanted to go home. Keef came out of the room and spotted Mick on the floor. 

“WOT IN BLOODY HELL HAPPENED TO YOU MICK!?!” Keef yelled sounding very worried. Mick just slowly looked up at him. He was extremely hungry but did not want to slaughter anyone in front of his buddies so he made up the lie that Robert Whore Plant and Satanist James Patrick Page had beaten him up. Keef went up to the two to give them a piece of his monkey mind. “Hey douchbags!” As soon as one of them turned to look at him, Keith swung his arm and punched the side of Robert’s jaw causing him to fall into the pool. Hope he can swim. 

“Oh! You FOOKING monkey! You just knocked my fuck buddie into the damn pool!” Jimmy yelled sounding pretty darn pissed. Keef body slammed him into the pool and began to attack him. Charlie just stood there watching him embarrass the fuck out of himself. He turned to look at Mick and noticed his was no longer there. He looked around and did not spot him anywhere. Bill came out of the room and saw Charlie panicking. 

“Yo mate? Wot’s up with you now huh?” He asked as he spotted Keith attacking the two Led Zeppelin members. He was not going to question what he was even trying to achieve. 

“Mick went missing!” Charlie responded. Bill rolled his eyes. Now he was confused on why he is freaking out about the whore being missing. Sometimes he just did not understand Charlie. Keith had unsuccessfully drowned both members. Jimmy got away to alarm the other two that there is a mad monkey trying to kill them. Damn he just wanted to defend his buddy. Fuckin’ whores. Good thing no one actually likes Led Zeppelin. He went back to Bill and Charlie. He noticed Mick wasn’t with them so he went into panic mode.

“W-where did Mick go!?” He asked. Bill and Charlie just shrugged. The three heard screaming coming from a room that was across from where they were. 

“HELP! Mick Jagger is trying to kill me!” The screaming came from a woman. The three lads ran to the room. Mick was laying on a bed with a blade in his hand. 

“Mick! You fooking wanker! You’re scarring the poor girl!” Keith scolded Mick. Charlie was absolutely done with the glimmer hoes. He wondered when they would break up the band and part ways. It seemed to him that will not happen any time soon. Keith carried Mick out of the room. “Jesus mate! The hell’s up with you huh? You’ve been acting all strange.” He asked as he took him to their room. Mick’s faded blue eyes looked right at Keith’s dark eyes. He seriously needed food. 

“I....I-” He spat out. 

“You wot?” Keith cut him off. Mick was trying to gather his words but was too weak for it. Instead, he pointed at the door. Keith looked at him confused. “You wanna go outside?” he asked. Mick nodded in response. 

“Jesus! Well let’s get to it! I am so sick and tired of this hell hole!” Charlie said angrily. Keith stuck his tongue out at him. Mick wrapped himself in a blanket and Keith carried him out. The Rolling Stones hopped in the van that was vandalized not by Led Zeppelin but by The Who. Charlie was mad. “Oh! Those fucking ratatouille bastards!” They began to drive.

It has been quite a while since they had left the motel. They haven’t made any stops. Not even for bathroom breaks. Mick just kept staring at Keith’s monkey face. To him, it was like the most beautiful face in the entire world. Charlie put some tunes on the radio. A song by Led Zeppelin was playing which drove Charlie into road rage. He began to drive past cars, crash into them, drive them off of places and all sorts of other dumb shit. Bill, who was sitting next to him eating cheeseballs that he had found in one of Keith’s trousers, turned off the radio. He looked at Charlie with a scared look. 

“The hell was that for!?” He asked. Charlie just sat there trying to figure out why he just did that. Honestly, no one had a clue. The sun was starting to set but Charlie was not going to stop driving. He was going to keep on going until they found a house that belonged to them. Only problem was, it was way too far away from where they were settling in. Mick gently ran his fingers through Keith’s hair. He just looked at Mick’s arm with a confused look. Mick looked very sick which began to worry him a bit. 

“Hey buddy, don’t you worry about a damn thing, we’ll get you somewhere safe.” He said softly. He also noticed that Mick had a hungry look in his face. An idea sparked in his head. “Hey Mick! I have some cheeseballs you could eat!” He said as he searched for them. “Uh guys? Where did I put my cheeseballs?” Bill was eating them. He put them away before anyone noticed. “Ah darn! That was my only food :(” Keith said sounding upset. 

"I don't need food," Mick said in a scratchy voice. Keith just looked at him confused.

"How do you not need it? You haven't ate anything since you came back to us..... C'mon man, you gotta eat something...." Keith said in a worried way. Mick just shook his head. He was indeed hungry but for human meat. He wasn't going to tell him that he wanted to eat humans. It would scare the living shit out of him. Charlie aggressively stepped on the breaks and caused the glimmer hoes to fly off of their seats. Dammit just wear your damn seatbelts you fucking dumbass! Jesus I hate this world! Bill looked at Charlie.

"Why did you stop in the middle of the bloody road!?" He yelled. Charlie pointed at a man with a red mullet and a lot of makeup. He stood there in front of the van. Mick looked out the windshield. He couldn't believe it.

"David!?" Keith yelled. "Wot in bloody hell are you doing here!?" David just slowly walked up to the door.

"Can I get a lift?" He asked. Mick quickly opened the door and pulled Bowie in. He gave him a tight hug and began to sob. The other hoes were confused as fuck.

"Oh David! I thought I'd never see you again!" Mick said as he cried tears of joy. Bowie hugged him back and gave him a couple pats on his back. Oh Keefey got so jelly of them.

"Seriously David, wot the fuck are you doing here?" Keef asked in an annoyed way.

"Jesus mate, just need a bloody ride to go to Ronno's bathroom house," He responded. Keef just rolled his eyes at him. Charlie began to drive. There is no way he is going to stop by at a guy's house. He hates everyone and just wants to go home.

Mick and David spent most of the trip cuddling with each other and whispering sweet nothings in their ears. Keef sat there watching them with his arms crossed. He could not believe that Bowie just stole his underwear hoe. Oh wait.... Mick doesn't wear those..... Sorry lolz. He got irritated at him that he attempted to shove him out of the van. Mick got so angry at him for doing that.

"Fuck off Monket! The hell is wrong with you!? Just leave him be you whore!" Mick yelled. Keef felt his heart shatter a little. Mick had replaced him with the alien whore. His vision began to water up. He turned away from them both and silently cried. Way to go Mick! Charlie was so done with them. He felt a hand run up to his crotch. He jumped and smacked it.

"Owie mate!" Bill yelled in response. Charlie just looked at him with a scared look. I swear to God he just wants to go home! Mick and David fell on top of Keef and began to make out. The fall caused Keef to die for a little bit.

"No! Not in here!" Charlie yelled as he took a sharp turn. They both flew out of their seats. Haha dumb fucks.

The Rolling Stones and David, had arrived at a cabin that was located in a Wal-Mart's bathroom.

"Pretty darn neat," David said. Mick just skilled at him and held his hand as they made their way into the house. Mick slipped in black paint and fell in the Home Alone style. Lolz. Nobody cared enough to help so they just all went to their bedrooms. Although Bill has his own room, he went to sleep with Charlie. Mick and Bowie went to sleep in their bedroom. Keef just stayed in the living room drinking fish oil and gas.

Bowie and Mick were cuddling together in bed. They both were hella horny so they began to touch each other and grind on one another. Bowie kissed him with tongue. He was quite tasty. They eventually ended up screwing each other and stared at the ceiling. Mick began to thirst over Bowie. He hovered over him and caressed his beautiful face. He began to kiss his neck. He sniffed it too and licked it. Bowie was enjoying it. Mick bit his neck and began to nibble on the meat. Bowie screamed in a lot of pain. Mick took a huge bite out of his neck and chewed on it. Bowie died. He then ate his brain and his toes.

"I'm sorry Davey....." Mick whispered to him. "I need to keep myself alive. He got off of his bed and headed out to the door. He looked around to see if anyone was around the living room. He didn't spot anyone so he headed to Charlie's room. Mick silently opened the door. Charlie and Bill were asleep. He slowly approached them as he licked his lips. "Oh you both look so delicious...." He whispered. Bill felt Mick getting closer. His eyes snapped open and saw Mick about to eat him.

"WOT ARE YOU DOING!?" He yelled as he kicked Mick off of the bed. That angered him and began to chase Bill around the room. Charlie woke up and saw them both running around. "Charlie! This whore wants to devour me!!" Bill yelled. Mick hissed at Charlie and targeted him. Bill threw a vase at him and took Charlie out of the room. They both went to get Keef to alarm him about Mick. Keef joined their escape plan. The three of them hopped in the van and tried to turn the engine on. All it did was make the engine do weird coughing sounds. The van was down. The three ran into the forest to hide from Mick. Keef saw him in the distance.

"Oh bloody hell! He's right behind us!" Keef yelled. They began to run faster. Mick was running after Bill. He ran as fast he could but unfortunately he tripped over a tree branch and twisted his ankle. Charlie turned to look at him. He panicked and was about to run to help him. Mick got to him before he could and ate his intestines and penis.

"NO!" Charlie yelled. He continued running to help him. Keef stopped Charlie before he could get to them.

"Don't! We gotta go! There's nothing we can do about it! Freddie said so in a song!" Keef yelled as he pulled Charlie away from them. He kept screaming for Bill and began to cry. They ran pretty far from Mick. They found a random abandoned shack and hid there. Charlie laid on the floor crying his eyes out. Keef went to him and tried to comfort him.

"There there buddy....." He began, "I know you loved him but there's nothing we can do..... Everything's going to be okay." Charlie shook his head. He could not believe that he saw his own bestie die in front of him. They heard footsteps out side. Keef peaked out of the window. Mick was around the area looking for them. Keef warned Charlie to keep quiet.

"Keef?" Mick said in a sad voice. "Keef c'mon.... I didn't mean to do that. You know me better than anyone else that I would never hurt anyone. I don't know wot happened. Keef please come out here and sing a song together."

Keith's eyes began to tear up. He searched around the shack to find some sort of weapon. He didn't want to kill his whore. He's known him for so long. He could even recognize the Mick that was outside of the shack. Mick heard footsteps approaching him and enabled his fightey mode. A man with a big nose attacked him. He hissed and fought him back. Keith quickly looked out the window and saw them both fighting. He could not believe it. Big Nose Whore put Mick down and began to stab him. Mick yelled in pain. Keith saw Big Nose stab him a couple more times until Mick's yelling stopped. Keith ran outside to them.

"R-Ron!?" He stuttered. "How did you find us!?" Ronnie just looked him. He stood up and took underwear out of his trousers.

"I used these to track you guys down and saw Mick killing Bill," He explained. "Wow! You Rolling Stones are super ugly and wild!"

Keith just stood there annoyed. He thought he had died in that giant explosion with Rod. Guess he was glad he was alive. Charlie came out of the shack and saw him. He was hella disappointed. Why did he have to come back? He didn't even matter that much.

"Oh well hello Charlie!" Ronnie said with a smile. No. He was not going to say hello to him back. Keith placed his arm around Ron and pulled him closer to him.

"Glad to have ya back Ron....." He added. Ronnie just smiled widely.

The three began to make their way back to the cabin. Charlie started to get bad vibes from Ron. Once they stepped inside, Ronnie closed the door and locked it. Keef and Charlie looked at him. They noticed that his eyes were also faded into a light blue shade. They both began to fear for their lives. Charlie pushed Keef and told him to run. Ronnie hissed and attacked Charlie.

"CHARLIE NO!" Keef yelled. He watched Ron slaughter Charlie up and ran out the window. Ronnie ran after him. They both kept running into the woods. Ron caught up to the monkey and managed to bite his foot. Keef fell and yelled in pain. He tried to escape from his grip. He spotted a pretty sharp branch. He stretched his arm out to grab it. Once he was able to get it, he used it to stab Ronnie. He stabbed him to death. He was in so much pain. Keef managed to crawl pretty far from the woods. He didn't think he was going to survive at all considering his foot was gone and was bleeding a lot.

Keith arrived at the police station. He was too weak to open the door so he laid in front of it. Hours passed by, a young man with long brown hair stepped out of the building and almost tripped over Keith. He saw him laying there unconsciously.

"Guys! Keith Richards is on the ground!" He yelled at the police cops. Fuck them Jesus I hate em. Two officers came out and saw Keith, who was pale and had faded blue eyes.

"No way!" One of them began, "Its the fucking guitarist of The Rolling Stones!"

Keith began to blink and spotted them fangirling over him. He began to thirst over them. He reached out to grab one of their legs and bit it. They all began to scream in fear. Keith managed to eat the other two. He sat there on the steps finishing up his meal. A short blonde man approached him. He was also pale and had faded blue eyes. He sat next to him.

"Well Richards....." He began, "You ate the three of them on your own?"

Keith just chuckled in response. "Hell yeah I did." The small one reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Keef and lit it for him. They just both looked up at the sunny sky.

"You ready to begin your next slaughter house?" He asked. Keith blew out a cloud of smoke.

"You know it Jones," they both chuckled and gave each other a high five. Their zombie love began to grow.

writer's notes: Oh sweet Jesus! I have no idea what I just wrote! this is pretty damn stupid and weird. well it is called crack fanfic for a reason. lol zombies wtf is that? hope you guys enjoyed reading this stupid fanfic. also thank you for reading lolz.

[allmyzolu]

I adore Keith and Charlie friendship, man.

I mean, they know each other for almost 60 years and their love never faded away. Keith has a lot of respect and appreciation for Charlie and he never miss a chance to say how great is Watts, how he is one of his favorite people in the world and how much likes to spend the time with him. I liked to read in "Life" in the beggining that Keith and the others really wanted to have Charlie in the Rolling Stones, they considered him an amazing drummer, even if Charlie was more into Jazz than R&B. And then, when they finally get him, it caused the band had their "heartbeat". Charlie has had a lot of support from Keith, personally and professionally, those two communicate really well in the scenary, have you seen in some shows Keith goes to Charlie and then they follow each other? Yeah. I think Charlie enjoys Keith's humor sense, his company and his spirit, he considers him a driving force in the band along with Mick; it's really interesting to know, that although those two have made mistakes in the past and had their awful eras, none of them fall apart from each other, sooner or later they would come back to the place they knew they belong to. They're in balance, Charlie is the calm, the discretion, but also the wit, Keith is the energy, the chekiness. They have personalities really different but they get along, and that's wonderful tbh.

Here's my favorite photo of them to finish:

Idk but Keith looks at Charlie as he was the prettiest thing in the world???? He likes to see Charlie smiling I guess??

They're precious.

[teatimemols]

Queen of the Seven Seas (First Draft)

Pairings: Oliver/MC (Elizabeth Watt) and a bit of Charlie/MC & Edward/MC (she loves to love them all ok uwu lol)

Sinopse: Elizabeth learns a new secret about her compass and her history, and it will involve a certain lieutenant in her life.

First Draft + Barely betaed + Mentions to body functions lol (not that scatological lol)

tagging @lulaortega & @furiouscloddonutpeanut

It's very late at night. She cannot know how much. After all, Elizabeth had lost any way to track the exact hours when she was thrown back in time. There were no clocks in her possession - she may have seen a pocket one in Edward’s, but she has never used it. Now she just estimates things based on the skies’ colors, when the sun is rising or setting, or even if is it too late and nobody else was supposed to be awake.

Elizabeth just knows these days. Maybe because of the routine of the crew, that she doesn't need to look outside to imagine what the sky looks like. It's been some hours - yes, she could feel it - since she was having period cramps and only now the pain is subsiding.

She reaches and takes the compass out of her daily clothes' pockets and fickler it open for no reason at all. It is dark in her quarters - once Robert's - but now it feels as familiar as her old room in the future. Maybe she's looking for a clue. 

Honestly, she doesn't know what she is really expecting to find.

Elizabeth feels so exhausted but her eyes hurt and she cannot fall asleep.

For a long minute, she stares at the compass anyway, indicating a direction on the compass card. But nothing else happens.

Elizabeth sighs as she closes it, screwing her eyes shut, the sleep doesn't come this way either -- of course, it wouldn’t, she mutters sarcastically under her breath, in actuality, she just feels a sharp pang of pain from the headache forming in the ridges of her head for the lack of sleep.

Taking a deep breath, she calms herself a little bit, anxiety slowly growing into her chest despite her attempts to keep it down. It’s just getting on her nerves more. Nothing seems to help, everything she does seem to worsen it.

Idly Elizabeth tugs the compass against her chest and feels it trembling against her wrist pulse. She startles with the sudden movement, gasping in silence.

It is almost irrational how she brings, fumbling with the object, to the hollow of her throat. She can barely hear anything but the pulse in her ear as anticipation swells inside of her throat.

She had told Edward she was gonna hide the compass on the island, but she didn't. Elizabeth couldn't do it. She wants to keep it to herself. It was her only way out as much as she knew it!

To give fate a chance to screw around with her life (again!) wasn't an acceptable option, not something she was gonna allow to happen. Any stray dog could just dig it up from the sand or the earth and find her compass and it would be lost forever, together with her life in the future.

Elizabeth doesn’t know if she wants to come back to the future, and even if she would not like now, since she may have already changed everything with her involvement with some historical happenings, she knows she wants the chance to choose, whichever was better or less bad for herself.

There is no way she would let her own future, even in the past, not be a decision of her own making. Elizabeth knows fate - or whatever creature that created them all - was enough capricious to allow things to go on the way they ended up going anyway. No thought about interfering.

She breathes as slow and quiet as possible as she opens the compass and instead of a pointer and a background compass card, she sees something impossible: she sees Oliver! - sleeping.

His slightly opened mouth shows how sound asleep he is, besides the soft and slow rise of his bare, broad chest under a thin white sheet that covers his body from his waist down.

His lips move just slightly in some mumbles, at times. On his forehead, there is a crease. Oliver doesn't seem to be having a completely restful sleep.

Elizabeth frowns in worry but she also slowly swallows. She is scared that he could hear her, too. With maybe silly optimism, she thinks-no, she feels like he wouldn't hurt her, not if he could choose to ignore her altogether in the hopes he would be allowed to not harm her when the time came for their confrontation.

Still, she is also scared. Not of him, but of everything else. Everybody else that wasn’t the Revenge's crew. Elizabeth just knows Edward and Charlie and even Maggie would never hurt her, even if they knew she had fallen for the enemy.

It wasn’t like she could control how she felt about things, about people.

It isn't what you can't control that makes you who you are, but rather everything else you can choose to do or to walk away from.

She rolls on her belly and watches Oliver sleep. He looks like a fairy tale prince. His fair golden hair spread across the pillow and around his slightly blushing tanned cheeks and strong jaw tug at Elizabeth’s heartstrings.

Elizabeth wants to caress his cheek, kiss the corner of his mouth softly as a good night wish, hold herself against him, tugging him slightly to her by the back of his neck, enveloping his golden, soft hair in her fingers.

She wants him. It is obvious. She bites at her lower lip.

She shouldn't. She likes him so much more than she should, than it was supposed to happen.

Elizabeth sighs, turning around, letting the compass close sliding down her waistline on her belly. Why does she care so much about him?  

A knock on the door.

Elizabeth's eyes widen and she fumbles with the compass as her start made her jump against the mattress. The compass opens by itself and she hears a grunt coming out from the other side.

She closes it desperately, letting the compass slide down the sheets to the ground.

"Love?" 

It is Charlie. Fuck.

"H-hey, Charlie, wait a sec-" she gets up to her feet trying to grasp the compass and push it against one of her pants' pockets.

She has a hard time making the thing get inside but as soon as she does, she opens the door.

"Hey, hey, how are you, Charlie?"

Charlie raises an eyebrow not sure if she should feel amused or not. So she just smiles:

"Woke up earlier and wanted to know if ye wanted breakfast with me?"

"Yeah, sure," Elizabeth smiles weakly as she still feels drained, out of breath also for the earlier commotion "Gonna change, alright?"

Charlie looks worried for a moment but she shakes her head and nods with a sweet smile.

"Alright, love," she leans a little into Elizabeth's personal space and they share a soft kiss.

Elizabeth smiles against Charlie's lips and nods. They part ways and Elizabeth's heart goes from fluttering to dreading anything that could have happened.

She takes the compass from her pocket and opens it in a hurry. Curiosity and longing bringing her to take another risk.

Elizabeth is about sighing in relief for not hearing a sound when a voice comes up from the compass:

"Lizy?" 

Her eyes widen as she looks at a sleepy lieutenant looking back at her through slit eyes, his fair hair loose and spread messily down his wide shoulders. She swallows then when she realizes he had sat down on the bed and she can see all of his Apolo like appearance, his strong body angles, his soft but well-designed face features with a candid light coming from his barely awake expression and soft-looking hair, his sculptured torso and a bit of his strong thighs coming out of the thin white sheets.

Shit.

[aterimber]

No Place I’d Rather Be

Written: 19.12.09

Words: 1,395

DeanxReader, 2020′s 2nd Christmas Fic (Instead of a New Years’ one)

Written for the SPN Amino apps' Secret Santa 2019. I got Not Natural - The Parody, who's favourite characters are Dean and Charlie. Their bio said they were a Dean girl, hence the xReader part. I posted this in the app last year, and apparently forgot to post it elsewhere.

(This was also my first time writing Charlie, so go easy on the feedback, please 😅 )

-----------------------------

Oh, no-no-no-no! You spin around, eyes desperately sweeping over the boxes of Christmas decorations that litter the floor. I can’t believe I can’t find it… you drop to your knees and begin digging through the nearest box, it has to be here… he’s gonna kill me!

The turning lock of the front door made your head whip up like a dog, and you feel your heart leap out of your chest as the blonde walks through the door.

He shakes the snow from his hair and toes off his shoes, before stopping, eyes glancing to the half-decorated tree behind you, thousand-watt smile splitting his face, “What’s this?”

You stand quickly, nearly knocking the box of decorations over, fidgeting with your sleeves, “I-I thought you were going to be working all day.”

“Eh,” he waves a dismissive hand as he makes his way over, “Tony slipped a little something extra into Boss-Mans’  coffee, he should be out till tomorrow.” He notes the look on your face and raises an eyebrow, “If you don’t want to spend Christmas Eve with me, I can-”

“No! No, I do,” you force a smile and take a step closer, he’s so going to kill me, “I just wanted to finish before you got back, that’s all.”

“Oh, well,” he wraps his arms around you, and pulls you against him, winking, “Now I can help.”

--

“You…” the blonde closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You lost it?”

“No! Of course not!” Your hands are shaking and you’re doing your best to hold back tears, “I distinctly remember putting it in one of the decoration boxes last here. I just…” you sigh, hanging your head, “I can’t remember which box.”

“Oh well,” he drops his hand and shrugs, giving you an incredulous look, “That’s just great.” He stomps a few feet away from the tree, “the one ornament I have that actually means something to me, and you can’t find it. That’s… that’s awesome.” He snatches his coat and makes his way to the front door.

You feel your own rage begin to rise, and stomp a few feet toward the door, crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s not like I lost it on purpose.”

Dean shakes his head, wrenching the front door open, “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Your jaw drops as he disappeared, slamming the door shut behind him. What the… Fuck! You run a hand through your hair and take a deep breath. Okay, you shake your head, swiping at your eyes, spinning back around to face the mess behind you, back to problem number one.

--

“What are you doing here?”

Dean scoffs, easing himself down onto the bar stool, reaching for the beer bottle, “Save the lecture.”

“Hey,” Charlie held her hands up in mock surrender, “I was just curious.” She jumps up on the stool next to him, “Although, now that you bring it up…” she gives him a crooked smile.

He lets out a heavy sigh, “She lost Moms’ ornament.”

“So?”

He turns, “What do you mean ‘so’? It was Moms’ ornament!”

She raises an eyebrow at him, “Did she lose it on purpose?”

“Well, no, but still, I-”

She shrugs, “Then it doesn’t matter. Yeah it sucks, but are you really gonna let that ruin your holiday?”

He shakes his head and takes another swig, “You don’t understand…”

“Maybe.” She began twirling around on her stool, “But if that’s the worst thing to happen to you this year?” She shrugs again, “I’d say that puts it in your Top 10 Best.”

He gives her a sideways glance, “I hate you.”

She gives him a cheeky smile, “I know.” She bumps his arm, nodding toward the door, “Now go save your Christmas.”

--------------------------------

Liking the fic? Keep reading here!

Reminder: This is the LAST fic of 2020! I’ll be taking the last half of December, and first half of January OFF from posting fics. I’ll be back with a brand NEW fic to kick off the new year Jan. 15th, 2021. (Keep an eye on my Twitter for updates/announcements)

While you wait, consider checking out my Patreon, where you’ll unlock access to every fic EVER (past, present AND future! Currently 50+) for JUST $10/month!

[waugh-bao]

A little something that (I hope) will cheer everyone up...

So if you aren't aware, The Exbats, an American indie band, released a song called "I Got the Hots for Charlie Watts" last year. (Their first album, put out in 2018, actually had that same name). It was their biggest hit to date, and the song is about exactly what is sounds like:

"Brian's a creep,

Bill doesn't register,

Keith is the best,

Mick's out of his mind

...

That's why I got the hots for Charlie Watts

I got the hots for Charlie Watts (x4)

...

The old gods have died

a couple survive.

It's only echoes

cashed from the past.

One embraces his gray

in such a debonair way.

He's the most dapper man in rock!

...

That's why I got the hots for Charlie Watts

I got the hots for Charlie Watts (x4)"

This is what Inez, the lead singer and drummer, posted in August when Charlie passed away:

So, thanks to Ronnie (because of course), Charlie actually got to listen to a professionally recorded and released song, with a music video, about how he was, at 79, the cutest member of the biggest rock 'n roll band in the world.

[bbbrianjones]

Brian’s Last Interview

I thought I would treat all of you Brian’s fan to something pretty cool, this was actually quite hard to find, but voilà here it is: Brian's last interview! It appeared 1969 in the German youth magazine Bravo. So here is the original German script, I took the pictures as good as I could, but I suck. For everyone else that doesn't speak German, (does anyone who reads this apart from me even speak it?) well there's a translation underneath the pictures. So just scroll past them.

Here's the English translation, I found online which is surprisingly good. There are a few mistakes (names, places and so on) but they were in the original script as well, so I didn't bother to correct them. 

"To hell with the Rolling Stones!"

(This is a report by Thomas Beyl. He is the only man to whom Brian Jones has entrusted the true reasons for his separation from the Stones.)

"Brian Jones has left the Stones!" When I heard the news, I did not believe it. Even on the jet plane to London, I had only one thought: It must not be true! In recent years I had lived through many crises of the Rolling Stones, but the Stones had continued rolling on through all of it. Certainly, Brian has been even more difficult than usual recently, and the differences between him and the group have grown greater and greater. But a split? The Rolling Stones without Brian Jones? Shortly after my arrival in London, I see nothing but black - in broad daylight! When I hurry up the stairs to the Stones headquarters at 46 Maddox Street, Keith Richard rushes past me with long strides. Am I seeing ghosts? A Rolling Stone in the afternoon at half past two? "Hello, Thomas," says the "ghost". "I'm in a hurry. I'll see you later!" I hurry afterwards. Mick, Charlie and Bill are sitting in the office upstairs. Brian Jones is missing. The four Stones look at me and grin, embarrassed. No one says a word. I brought along BRAVO No. 25 and open it to the double-page colour feature with the Stones. "This article says that you are planning a tour through Germany in the fall," I say. "Will Brian be with you?" Mick shakes his head. "No," he says resolutely. "It's final. We've split from Brian." I look questioningly at Bill and Charlie. They nod. "In all friendship," says Bill.

In all friendship? Without a fight? But these are "my" Stones, I know them better than that! Before I can ask any more questions, the Stones' chauffeur appears and seconds later, the four have disappeared like a ghost. "We'll see you later, Thomas," I hear Mick yell up the stairs. Later! I shudder when I hear that word! I leaf through the newspapers lying around on the office table and come across the sentence "Brian Jones flew to Africa for a vacation in order to decide about his future in peace." That can't be right, I think to myself, and give their road manager Tom Krylock a good interrogation. He admits that Brian is hiding at a friend's in London! The good Tom relents, gives me a number and after a few phone calls, I have Brian on the phone: "I don't give interviews," he growled sleepily, "I've already told it all. It's in the newspapers." "The newspapers also say that you're in Africa", I reply. "Well," says Brian, a bit more comfortable now. "Come back in three weeks. Until then, I'm not talking to any reporters. " "Not even to an old friend?" I ask. He's still on the line. I'm worried he will hang up soon. "Give me Tom," says Brian. Tom picks up the phone, listens for a few seconds, squeezes in a quick "OK" before hanging up. "I shall take you to Brian this evening," he tells me, "but keep your mouth shut!" A few hours later on a trip through London at night, my thoughts begin to go back in time.

Exactly seven years ago, Brian Jones was playing hot music with his trio on the stage of a shabby restaurant in Ealing. Right then, two guys jumped up on stage with him and "climbed aboard": Mick Jagger and Keith Richard. They got along right away. By the end of the year they were joined by Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts. Despite hunger and frustration in the beginning, the five stuck together. Three years later, the Rolling Stones had made it. Mick, Brian, Keith, Bill and Charlie even rolled right over the Beatles at times. I was together with the Stones often during the past four years. I liked Brian the most. He was probably the most difficult of the five, the most sensitive and the toughest at the same time. But always a good friend. And then Brian is sitting across from me over in his hiding place. He's got a full beard. "You want me to tell the truth," he says ironically. "Well then, the old Stones' sound is not my taste. I think it's out of date. I want to write my own music and play. After a friendly discussion, we came to the conclusion that separation is the only solution. Satisfied?"

"Is there really no chance that you might get back together again?" I ask. "None!" replied Brian. "Two years ago I wanted to leave, but Mick talked me out of it. Today there is no turning back." I look at Brian as he tops off his whiskey. He looks pale and haggard and under no circumstances happy. "You know that the Stones want to go on tour again soon. I think the fans will miss you," I say, trying to lure him out of his shell. "You think so?" Brian's face brightens up. "Tell them I'll have my own group soon. The decision is within the next few weeks. Maybe I'll only produce music. I know one thing for sure: I want to be rich and finally rake in the big bucks. Just like Mick and Keith..." Brian jumps up, reaches into a box of records and gives me an LP. I read "YOU YOUKA" on the label.

"I produced that one in Algeria. My first LP. Would you like to listen to them?" asks Brian. Of course I do. For the next 20 minutes I hear flute sounds with dogs barking. "Pure African folk music," says Brian. "Recorded at night out on the street." He is entranced by the music. I am not. "This is music," Brian says enthusiastically. "I'm going to compose music in this style." Gloomy, almost depressed, I leave Brian. I fear that it will be a long time before Brian, the lost Stone, becomes a wealthy man. The next evening I go down to the Olympic Studio, where the Stones are recording their new single "Honky Tonk Woman." "Did you talk to Brian?" Mick greets me. "He must have told you that we're still friends. Keith, Bill, Charlie and I all say so too." Whether a split in friendship or otherwise - for Stones fans, it doesn't matter. The Stones will keep on rolling. Now with Mick Taylor, 20, who previously played rhythm guitar with John Mayall, they've found a new Stone. They're back to five again. Whether the new Stone will replace the old one is another question. "Aren't you scared," I ask Mick, "that Brian's departure could hurt the reputation of the Rolling Stones?" Mick: "I think our 'bad reputation' has gotten better and better lately. And we're still nowhere near the end - even without Brian!"

[shirttrendingshoponline]

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Fashion week is almost upon us German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt . And with the return of in-person shows, there is plenty of celebratory fanfare. One of the best examples of a larger-than-life runway moment will be from LaQuan Smith. Known for his megawatt creations, the designer is showing at an equally fantastic location: The Empire State building. The show will be historic, too: Smith will be the first designer in history to stage a fashion show there. Another label with some big news in the pipeline is Balmain. This past week, Olivier Rousteing announced that he is launching a miniseries called Fracture, which will star the likes of Jesse Jo Stark, Tommy Dorfman, Charles Melton, and Ajani Russel. In sadder news, this past week, Charlie Watts of The Rolling Stones passed away. The legendary drummer, who once was a jazz drummer and an artist for an ad agency, was one of the more quiet members of the band. Vogue’s Corey Seymour describes him as an “elegant and unassuming drummer” and also notes his sartorial flair.German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

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[hotshirtstoreonline]

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Fashion week is almost upon us German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt . And with the return of in-person shows, there is plenty of celebratory fanfare. One of the best examples of a larger-than-life runway moment will be from LaQuan Smith. Known for his megawatt creations, the designer is showing at an equally fantastic location: The Empire State building. The show will be historic, too: Smith will be the first designer in history to stage a fashion show there. Another label with some big news in the pipeline is Balmain. This past week, Olivier Rousteing announced that he is launching a miniseries called Fracture, which will star the likes of Jesse Jo Stark, Tommy Dorfman, Charles Melton, and Ajani Russel. In sadder news, this past week, Charlie Watts of The Rolling Stones passed away. The legendary drummer, who once was a jazz drummer and an artist for an ad agency, was one of the more quiet members of the band. Vogue’s Corey Seymour describes him as an “elegant and unassuming drummer” and also notes his sartorial flair.German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

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German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Unisex Sweatshirt

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Classic Men's  Has appointed nine German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt . Canadian ambassadors to front their Rise Up campaign. From Canadian Olympic medalists Andrew De Grasse and Jennifer Abel to other talents including Manjit Minhas, Lane Merrifield, Hamza Haq, Michaella Shannon, Ingrid Falaise, and Melissa and Sacha Leclair, the ambassadors will aim to inspire Canadians to take on whatever challenge comes their way. The campaign, which includes each ambassador’s unique story and has a focus on resilience, is available to watch online now. Canadian denim company Jeaniologie inc. has just bridged the gap between the online and in-store shopping experiences. This week, the company opened a high-tech Denim Society pop-up in Montreal’s Carrefour Laval, where customers will have the opportunity to shop various looks from company-owned brands on display (including Bauhaus, Foxy Jeans, Dnm.Works, No Logo and Slacker), as well as on the company website via giant touch screen tablets. This space will also be outfitted with custom digital lockers for online order pick-ups, plus a drop-off bin for hassle-free online returns. The shop is now open and expected to run through October 2021. You Can See More Product: https://eternalshirt.com/product-category/trending/ Read the full article

[usatshirtsonline]

German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt

Fashion week is almost upon us German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt . And with the return of in-person shows, there is plenty of celebratory fanfare. One of the best examples of a larger-than-life runway moment will be from LaQuan Smith. Known for his megawatt creations, the designer is showing at an equally fantastic location: The Empire State building. The show will be historic, too: Smith will be the first designer in history to stage a fashion show there. Another label with some big news in the pipeline is Balmain. This past week, Olivier Rousteing announced that he is launching a miniseries called Fracture, which will star the likes of Jesse Jo Stark, Tommy Dorfman, Charles Melton, and Ajani Russel. In sadder news, this past week, Charlie Watts of The Rolling Stones passed away. The legendary drummer, who once was a jazz drummer and an artist for an ad agency, was one of the more quiet members of the band. Vogue’s Corey Seymour describes him as an “elegant and unassuming drummer” and also notes his sartorial flair.German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Classic Women's

German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Long Sleeved

German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Unisex Sweatshirt

German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Unisex Hoodie

Classic Men's  Has appointed nine German Shepherd Kisses Fix Everything Shirt . Canadian ambassadors to front their Rise Up campaign. From Canadian Olympic medalists Andrew De Grasse and Jennifer Abel to other talents including Manjit Minhas, Lane Merrifield, Hamza Haq, Michaella Shannon, Ingrid Falaise, and Melissa and Sacha Leclair, the ambassadors will aim to inspire Canadians to take on whatever challenge comes their way. The campaign, which includes each ambassador’s unique story and has a focus on resilience, is available to watch online now. Canadian denim company Jeaniologie inc. has just bridged the gap between the online and in-store shopping experiences. This week, the company opened a high-tech Denim Society pop-up in Montreal’s Carrefour Laval, where customers will have the opportunity to shop various looks from company-owned brands on display (including Bauhaus, Foxy Jeans, Dnm.Works, No Logo and Slacker), as well as on the company website via giant touch screen tablets. This space will also be outfitted with custom digital lockers for online order pick-ups, plus a drop-off bin for hassle-free online returns. The shop is now open and expected to run through October 2021. You Can See More Product: https://eternalshirt.com/product-category/trending/ Read the full article