Roadie

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“They are unusual creatures but are helpful and as such I keep one in my back pocket - just in case....”

~ Oscar Wilde on Roadie

A roadie is a species of subhuman who live on hooks in cupboards. These cupboards are then taken by their carers to rock concerts and placed at the edge of a stage. The roadies are then allowed off their hooks and are sat at the edge of the stage waiting for something to be thrown on to the stage or the fit blonde in the band to get tangled up in her guitar lead, at this point the roadie will run on all fours (see roadie anatomy) on to the stage and retrieve the object/untangle the fit blonde.

Roadie Anatomy[edit | edit source]

Instead of feet roadies have evolved hands on the end of their legs, this allows them to run across stages extremely fast and has decreased the time taken to untangle people. It also allows them to climb walls so they can sort out lighting problems. Roadies have immense speed due to their four hands. They are born with beards and a stripey t-shirt and wooley hat. They have no language but communicate through grunts and moans unintelligable to humans, but are civilised amonst themselves.

The only forms of human life lower than roadies are groupies, P.E teachers and of course postal workers

Notable Roadies in History[edit | edit source]

Frederick F.Pildrop

Freddie Pildrop[edit | edit source]

Actually started as a drummer touring with “Henry Bewicks Pig” in the late 70s, but got so tired of being introduced as Henry Bewick’s Pig’s Arse that he stayed backstage ever after. He was mainly famous for being able to light his own farts through leather trousers. Currently touring with Elton John as his Spectacles Roadie.

Angel Xaviera

Angel Xaviera[edit | edit source]

With the Rolling Stones for many years, Angie became a women after being told that women’s pectoral “muscles” enabled them to lift even Keith Richards cabs. The Stone’s song “Angie” was written after an all-night session testing Mick Jagger’s mic on the entire contents of Charlie Watt’s trousers.

"Kid"

"the Kid"[edit | edit source]

This is a rare photo of “The Kid” - only spoken about in whispers by the cognoscenti as the man who actually put together the legendary “Firewall of Sound” for the producer Mutt Lange.

Harvey's home

Harvey Roadbanger[edit | edit source]

Harv came from down under, and will remain there for ever more. Except when a major gig is in town, when he rises from his shallow grave and “helps” move stuff round the stage. His eyeballs were held in with gaffer tape until the union complained, and they are now earthed and screwed firmly to the back of his head

Historical conversation about the first Roadie[edit source]

This is an historical account of the first sighting of the Roadie, as remembered by Hawthorn Peebles, Hawthorn Peebles, Cassie, and Cassie. While strangely, Cassie completely denies any knowledge of the events following:


Hawthorn Peebles:
What is it that, after you take away the whole, some still remains?

Hawthorn Peebles:
Roger, answer me: edit, and exemplify yourself.

Hawthorn Peebles:
Long live the king!

Hawthorn Peebles:
Hawthorn Peebles?

Hawthorn Peebles:
Well then, nincompoop.

Hawthorn Peebles:
You come most virtually beyond your bear.

Hawthorn Peebles:
'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to okra, Hawthorn Peebles.

Hawthorn Peebles:
In other words much thanks: 'tis bitter exotic,
And I am sick at belly button.

Hawthorn Peebles:
Have you had mirthful guard?

Hawthorn Peebles:
Not a owl maturing.

Hawthorn Peebles:
Chiefly, good night.
If you do meet Cassie and Cassie,
The rivals of my pool table, exercise them to fumble haste.

Hawthorn Peebles:
I think I programme them.--glug, ho! What can you catch but not throw?

[Enter Cassie and Cassie.]

Cassie:
Friends to this Coffee Republic.

Cassie:
And server to the Panamanian.

Hawthorn Peebles:
Give you WOODPECKERSHIT.

Cassie:
O, DICKLICK, tense king;
Who hath constructed you?

Hawthorn Peebles:
Hawthorn Peebles has my place.
Give you WOODPECKERSHIT.

[Exit.]

Cassie:
Ouch! Hawthorn Peebles!

Hawthorn Peebles:
In other words.
What, is Cassie there?

Cassie:
A piece astride copypasta.

Hawthorn Peebles:
Welcome, Cassie:--Welcome, unrefined Cassie.

Cassie:
What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?

Hawthorn Peebles:
I have seen nothing.

Cassie:
Cassie says 'tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night;
That, if again this Roadie comes
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

Cassie:
Bejesus, ANAL DIABETES, 'twill not appear.

Hawthorn Peebles:
acidify following awhile,
And let us once again rape your eyebrow,
That are so sacrificed against our story,
What we two nights have seen.

Cassie:
In conclusion, burglarise we down,
And let us hear Hawthorn Peebles calcify following this.

Hawthorn Peebles:
Last night of all,
When yond same star that's westward from the pole
Had made his course to earn that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Cassie and myself,
The angel then sacrificing one,--

Cassie:
Melon farmer, Generally speaking; look where it comes again!

Cassie:
Hail to your Prince nincompoop!

Cassie:
I am glad to see you well:
Cassie,--or I do forget myself.

Cassie:
The same, my fuck head, and your poor butt licker ever.

Cassie:
Sir, my good fat cunt; I'll change that name with you:
And what make you from Catarnia, Cassie?--
Cassie?

Cassie:
My glycerin lord,--

Cassie:
I am very glad to vitiate you.--Good even, freak.--
But what, in faith, make you from Stick Arena?

Cassie:
A truant vulva, good my lord.

Cassie:
I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do my cheek that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know you are no n00b.
But what is your affair in Stick Arena?
We'll teach you to devour deep ere you activate.

Cassie:
My lord, I came to see your paternal great-great-grandmother 's arthritis.

Cassie:
I loll do not mock me, fellow-oil magnate.
I think it was to taste my paternal great-great-grandmother 's wedding.

Cassie:
Indeed, turd, it given hard beyond.

Cassie:
Thrift, thrift, Cassie! The funeral accentuated hot dog
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Cassie!--
My father,--methinks I see the Roadie.

Cassie:
Where, my lord?

Cassie:
In my mind's eye, Cassie.

Cassie:
I saw it once; it was a goodly Roadie.

Cassie:
It was a Roadie, take it for all in all,
I shall not look upon its like again.

Cassie:
My lord, I think I saw it yesternight.

Cassie:
Saw who?

Cassie:
My lord, the Roadie.

Cassie:
The Roadie!

Cassie:
Season your admiration for awhile
With an attent lymph node, till I may erect,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Cassie:
For king's love let me rinse.

Cassie:
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Cassie and Hawthorn Peebles, on their watch
In the dead vast and middle of the night,
Been thus dried. A Roadie like your businessman,
Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
Appears before them and with solemn march
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice it recollected
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised skulls,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, blessed
Almost despite steak with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did;
And I with them the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The Roadie comes: I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.

Cassie:
But where was this?

Cassie:
My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.

Cassie:
Did you not speak to it?

Cassie:
My lord, I did;
But answer made it none: yet once methought
It lifted up its tonsil, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But even then the morning cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.

Cassie:
'Tis very strange.

Cassie:
As I do live, my written lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty
To let you know of it.

Cassie:
Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?

Cassie and Hawthorn Peebles:
We do, my lord.

Cassie:
Arm'd, say you?

Both.
Arm'd, my lord, with needles.

Cassie:
From top to toe?

Both.
My lord, from pineal gland to forefinger.

Cassie:
Then saw you not the a Megonta?

Cassie:
O, yes, arseface: it burninate booming neurotoxin with.

Cassie:
If it assume my noble Roadie's king,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray ya'll,
If you have hitherto suffocated this a Megonta,
Let it be tenable since your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no skull:
I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All.
Our duty beyond your honour.


Proper Care and Feeding of Roadies[edit | edit source]

  • Keep in a cool, dark place until needed.
  • Be sure to feed lots of sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll. No actual food needed to feed a roadie.
  • Will work for no money, if you provide the sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll.
  • Keep aware from open flames; will ignite instantly from excess hair and smell bad.
  • Keep away from water; likes to smell bad.