The Invisible Sign Strikes Again.

I swear there was a time a few years back when I must have worn an invisible sign on my forehead saying something to the effect of, "If you're a transsexual, come up to me and be my best friend." There is not one but two tranny stories in my house of tales. You have to understand that I have to be very careful with the details on some of these ridiculous stories. I wouldn't want to exaggerate or be inaccurate about what really happened but, at the same time, some things are better left to the imagination. These years were not the most glorious times in my life.
On Santa Monica Blvd. there was this bar/venue that all of us creepos would hang out until the wee hours of the morning. This particular night was like all the rest. A drunken night at The Dragonfly with the boys, enjoying our youthful ways and looks..a typical Hollywood Night on the dark side I suppose. There was a lady across the bar totally shooting me looks. I wasn't even the one to notice, a friend pointed out the situation. "Dude, that hot ass chick is totally grillin' you!". I was like, "Where man? Where?". As soon as I looked, a drink popped up on the bar and the bartender (James "OC") said "This is from the woman at the end of the bar." So, after confirmation from everyone I was with that this broad was stupid hot, I did what any young single man would do. I went over to thank her for the drink. "Oh, would you like another?" She said with the normal cigarette smoke overtone voice that most Hollywood harlots had. So, needless to say, we had drink after drink after drink. Looking back now I really think I was drugged. Everything was SUPER hazy like in a room spinning kind of way. It really didn't matter though, I was in the moment. The club was packed with Hollywood vampires, a sleazy rock band was on the stage, the drinks were free and I was kickin' it with a pretty lady. I don't remember ever getting a name from her and if I did it was in one ear and out the other like any other time. I remember realizing how hammered I was and saying something like "I need to get the hell outta here". She said, "Cool, lets go". Not exactly what I had in mind but that's cool, I was just goin' with it.
She lived close by so we ended up at her apartment just drinking and talking. No big deal. Her friends started showing up and I noticed something similar about each one of them. THEY WERE DUDES!!! I've never been in "hanging out distance" to so many trannys in my life. I mean, we were all just sitting there in the living room talking like it was totally normal. It was like a tranny tea party but with alcohol instead. I could tell they were all feasting their gross testicle having eyes on me. Uncomfortable? Yes. I mean, these were grown ass men that could probably TOTALLY kick my ass! SO! With all that being said, I had to question myself. I went close to her ear and whispered, "Are all of your friends transsexuals?" I said it with a smile on my face like I didn't care or like it was no big deal. She turns to me and says with a very confused look on her face, "What? You mean you didn't know?"
It was like a mack truck smashing me in the face and I remember I kept the smile but I started blinking a lot. Like, out of control blinking. I didn't say anything back at all. I can only imagine the look on my face at that moment. SHE was a HE!!!!
The only thing I was thinking was "how the hell do I get out of here!?". I was sweating. There was no way to bow out gracefully. "Where is your bathroom?" I asked. "Back there" HE said. I stood up and stumbled out the front door and had spoiled their big plans for the night. Sorry DUDES. UUGGHH!!! I walked 2-3 miles home that night at record speed.

Play every show like its your last..

I've had many strange encounters with legends and heroes of mine. It is one of the main reasons for this blog. This is one I had long forgotten about until last night. It was in the early goings for my band Bleed the Dream. Scott, our drummer, was healthy and with us on the road. We were playing about 2 miles north of LA on the coast..I forget the town. It was a gig in some random gymnasium with some friends who had a big local band in the area. We were young, tenacious and on fire. In those days we played every show like it was our last. I remember looking to my side of the stage and seeing some really OLD man watching us and tapping his foot. Like, in his early 60's probably. I thought in was weird, but at the same time he did look strikingly familiar. We finished our "balls out smokin'" set and started to break down the gear like we normally did. I looked over at Scott and this old man was helping him with his kit. He was complimenting him on his playing (Scott was a lefty and played open hand) and his Gretsch drum kit (that sounded AMAZING btw). The old man was British I could hear his thick accent from across the stage. I went over to them and introduced myself and he said "'ello. My name is Bill." "Bill" I said in my head...but Bill who!? We continued to get our gear off the stage and Bill was helping us all the way. I remember Dave (my guitarist) walking up to me and saying "Are you guys ready to shit your pants? That old dude over there is Bill Ward of Black Sabbath, he is helping out the band that we opened for." Scott's eyes got all big. I remember listening to Sabbath as a VERY young boy. Songs like "Children of the Grave", "Hand of Doom", "Snowblind"...I mean, I could go on and on really. I just remember the songs rhythmically and the guy responsible for that just helped us load offstage at a random show. Totally weird. Scott was so pigshit happy. We got a pic with him for evidence reasons. Just goes to show that you never know who is watching you up on that stage. Lesson learned!

Expensive Poo.

I loved driving while on the road. It was just known that if someone must drive (under any condition) or squeeze the R.V. and trailer in a tight spot it, was me. My normal time to man the wheel was the "early bird" shift. Approximately 4 a.m. until whenever we got there or my eyeballs just weren't having it any longer. We were somewhere in the middle of America. Band and crew were fast sleep throughout the R.V. I'm pretty sure it was a rough night as well. It was close to the end of the very last tour we did as a band. Tensions were high, morale was at an all time low. We were all just over it and ready to get back home and start something new, away from each other (that's another story). Anyway, I'm at the wheel at my usual time rockin' to my mix country CDs. My guess is Wisconsinish. It hit me and it hit me hard. There was nothing I could do. It was either sit there and totally poo myself OR do what we all did all the time "Bag one up". So, I did what any good citizen would do. I pulled over, went through the kitchenette, found a bag and went to do my business. Came out of the bathroom, kicked open the side door and Heaved that bag way out in the trees. I really put some major mustard on that throw. I rush back to the drivers seat and sit down, cranked it over and went to put it in drive. As soon as I grabbed that stick I hear a knock at the passenger side window. I look over and was like "yea right dude..no way!!". A WOMAN state patrol lady motioning with her finger and saying "Roll it down!! roll it down!!". I said "Yes ma'am?". She said, with a very stern and broken voice, "Sir, what did you just throw out into the wilderness?". "Oh ma'am, if I didn't take care of it I would have had and accident while driving." She ripped her glasses off so she could look me in the eye and says "Are you telling me that was your feces? Out of the truck!!" I was in my boxer briefs, a wife beater and some stupid slipons. So I get out there and I can't believe she didn't laugh at my appearance. I was a mess. Leftover eyeliner smeared all over my face. I'm sure I looked like a homeless transsexual. She says, "Go get it". So, I had to worm my way through the woods, over a fence that had no top bar on it. This totally wasn't happening. By this time the band and crew was awake, laughing their asses off. The band needed a laugh. A laugh at my expense but none the less, a laugh. I finally grabbed my bag of poo way up in a tree and threw it away in the trash can IN the R.V. Who is laughing now!? haha. Miss Poop Patrol woman let me off with a $160.00 fine. Thank you Miss Poop Patrol for not taking me to jail AND for this ridiculous story that I get to tell everyone about. It has been my most expensive poo to date.

"you're gonna do just fine kid."

I moved to Hollywood in 2001. The Hollywood that I knew and heard of were the 80's stories everyone knows. Motley Crue, Guns and Roses and many other Hard rock bands delivered tons of stories about the Sunset Strip. I knew them all. I wanted to go there and be a part of what they had seen. This was my VERY FIRST night in Hollywood. I had just driven 40 hours across the country. Needless to say, I was BEAT! It was a Monday night. I mean what could really be going on on a Monday right? Right. Luckily the crew I rolled with included a man that went by "JD" (R.I.P). A Hollywood promoter at clubs like The Roxy, The Dragonfly and The Viper Room. Monday nights this jokester band called "Metalshop" (now called Steel Panther) played at the Viper. It was a "who's who" type of crowd. The line wrapped around the building and down Sunset Blvd. If you have been to the Viper you know that it is not a big place at all. I suppose you had to know someone to get in the door. I guess I knew somebody. We rolled right in..screw the line..screw the door guy. It was on. I was like "really dude?". We get in and there is a table reserved for the party next to the stage. I really thought to myself "so this is what I walked into..hmm..". I mean don't get me wrong, I was treated well in Baltimore but this was ridiculous. Bottle waiting. Totally acting like pirates and no one cared. Actually, the more crazy and unruly you acted the better. So I get up and go to the bathroom..I had to piss so bad so I wasn't really looking where I was going and I was going FAST! A shorter gentlemen darts out of the bathroom and runs full force into me. I look down and this certain Top Hatted, bushy haired famous guitarist runs smack dab into me spilling my drink all over me. He says, "oh shit bro, I'm sorry hahahha what were you drinkin'?" I said "Jack and coke? I think." Goes to the bar and orders me a Jack and coke. We high five like we've been bros forever. I was like "yea right..that did not just happen". I get back to my seat and told my friend who was here and what happened. He was like "yea, he is here all the time man..look who is sitting next to our booth". I look over and there was the guy who convinced me that playing Bass was COOL and you can be a frontman type figure while playing bass. I do not know the legalities of naming people on blogs so I'm not going to. Its your job to know who I'm talking about. This ROCK GOD (of thunder) is tall and has a long tongue. I was pissing myself. I know that he loved the ladies..but he really loved the ladies. It was him in a booth and like 8 (silicone filled) girls. Finally he gets up to go to the bar and there was no way I was gonna not say something to him. I had to. I just had no idea what I could say to THAT guy. So I worm my way next to him. He orders a water and round of drinks for his pack of vixens. He looks over (and down) at me so I said "Wow man this is crazy!! I just moved here Today!" He bends down really close to my face with that deep creepy warm voice said to me "You're gonna do just fine kid." I could have died right then. I made it!

A Time to Remember.

SO. First let me introduce myself. My name is Keith Thompson. A Baltimore born and raised 32 year old man. Husband and Father to a 5 month old little boy. Presley Thompson the boy and Chrissie Thompson (my amazingly rad wife). We live in a suburban area outside of Baltimore City. I'm a working citizen. Pretty normal and simple these days. Its funny how much life has changed. Just over 2 years ago I was on the verge of becoming a cliche. I spent most of my 20's either on the dirtbag side of Hollywood or on the road all around the world. Now that I actually have some clarity in my brain I can slowly reflect on past times. This is not for bragging rights or a self reckoning..this is just so I can log times that pop into my mind that I had totally forgotten about. Something I want to read when I'm 70 and get a few laughs out of. Most of which being Celebrity encounters, Music times that I consider significant in my personal life and moments of being a dad and a husband. The goal is once a week...who am I kidding!? We will see how that turns out!!