Awesomesauce

A Hazy Shade of Winter

The guys needed to start getting serious, Jimmy thought. Robert's back to his Black Country reefer days and John Paul's been disappearing with Bonzo at the local pubs, getting pissed even though Pat and Mo told him Bon had a drinking problem. Am I the only one still trying to keep this band together? It's been six years and I'm still the one pulling all the weight.

Then there was Bianca. Besides his problems with the boredom of Zeppelin, Bianca had teased him far beyond his capacity. She was just another mouth to feed now, and even though he was wise with money and the like, he couldn't help but wonder whether she was worth keeping around. These days it seemed the only reason he kept her around was because she and Jenni didn't have a home otherwise and she served him well. What kind of bird would impose two tenants? The last thing he wanted was for Daphne to live with them. Good Lord! Lord forbid he ask Bianca to find Daphne a home. For sake's alive, man! Grow a pair and move them out before you grab a fist full of hair and just let rip.

The one person he wasn't so inclined to evict was Jenni. She was interesting and rebellious; fairly pretty, pioneering, and hysterically comical even when he was in the worst of stress spouts. Another thought hit him: Bianca was at work, Daphne was in her room beside Bianca's, Jonesy and Bonzo were in the sound room, inseparable as they always were, and Robert was out with his wife and son. Jenni was out at the pond, shooting the first snowfall of the season with her Eastman Kodak. Should he join her?

♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪

A snowball came whizzing by my head and shattered on a tree. Surprised, I turned quickly to see the beautiful contrast of Jimmy in his black pea-coat against the white snow. His hands were shoved so deep in his coat pockets that his shoulders were higher than they would have been in a comfortable standing. He let his shoulders drop as he walked toward me, grinning and sniveling. His nose and cheeks were already rosey and he hadn't even been outside for five minutes.

"Getting some good shots?" he asked as he reached me, his hair curtaining his rosey face perfectly. His straight white teeth glinted at me through his smile and I couldn't help but shiver, but not from cold.

I gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah. I almost got the perfect shot of a man taking my head off with a snowball, thanks."

He shrugged and laughed. "I thought you could use some company."

"With a snowball?"

"With me. We could do a candid session. Take some film, do some raunchy photos; it's up to you." He laughed again and leaned on a tree. "Have you been to the pond yet? I bet it's brilliant."

"I was actually heading that way. Want to come? I can already tell you it isn't cold enough to freeze over. The snow is already melting-- probably getting ready for another rain storm tomorrow."

"I wouldn't put it past Surrey. We're the rain capitol, you know." We both smirked and I turned to head to the lake. He jogged up and walked beside me as we walked down the snow-hidden path. "Do you have pockets in that coat?"

"No."

Then Jimmy did the most wondrous thing, making my blood boil and my mind spasm; generously, he took my right hand and laced his fingers through mine, pulling my hand into his coat pocket with his. As if he didn't know what he was doing to me, he asked, "Is that better?"

"Much," I breathed, watching my breath rise to the sky in vapor form. In a worried tone, I added, "This doesn't go back to B, okay?"

"None of this will."

"None of this?" Were there more things that Jimmy was going to do? I thought. Oh God, I hope so.

Another Surplus... With Some Freaktoids

I love this picture. It proves jusy how silly Pagey is.

This one, too.

 

 

 

When did Robert get his ear(s) pierced?

Oh my God... So fucking sexy I can't stand it.

 

 

 

 

 

So, it's a proven fact that the Brits love drag comedy... Case and point. Robert's, er, partner is Roy Harper.

I Found the Rest of That Photo from 1969!

Just 'Cuz

 

So fucking hot.

I'll Wait

So I posted a day late-- I know I promised to post it last night, but I ran out of time, so here goes!
____________________________

As I waited at the airport for Daphne Lawrence, thoughts were strung up in my head. I found myself wishing that Jimmy were with me, that he wasn't famous and could take me places. Although he couldn't drive, it would have been nice to have him at least ride out with me. Guilt ebbed itself into my conscience as I imagined "Jimbert" a normal Londoner holding my hand as we walked through Hyde Park. No mobs, no paparazzi, no worries. Bianca's face flashed before me and I was reduced to studying my boots blankly.

In what seemed like a few minutes of no thinking but was really near an hour, an announcement over the loudspeaker informed me that Daphne's charter had landed and I was in the right wing to pick her up. My thoughts, once awakened again, returned to normal Jim and normal Jenni hand-in-hand in Hyde Park. I physically shook my head in the hopes that my dreams would be erased as a stewardess made her way to the booking podium. The Beatles' Twist and Shout began playing quietly in the back of my head and I fought the urge to dance and breathe "finally" as Jimmy was pushed out of my mind.

After about twenty minutes, the gate opened and a herd of nicely-dressed people with suitcases swarmed out of the hall into the wing. I strained to see where Daphne was but failed to spot her in the sea of people. I glanced down at my watch nervously, my toe beginning to tap to the rhythm of my speeding heart. Finally, at the very end of the herd, walking deliberately as she adjusted a coat on her arm, Daphne made her way into the wing. Through the throng of people, I followed her and tapped her on the shoulder.

Turning faster than expected, her face softened with recognition as soon as she saw me. "Jenni Carsons?"

"Daphne?" I asked in reply. She grinned and adjusted her coat again. "Do we just leave? Do you have to fill anything out? I don't quite understand airports."

"Yeah, yeah, we can just leave," Daphne responded cluelessly.  I was automatically reminded of how absent-minded Daphne was compared to her brainy sister; there was no doubt as to where the brawn had gone. "Did you drive here?"

"I had to jump through some hoops, why?"

"America is so rad!" she exclaimed. "The ladies just drive themselves! The women are so independent and out-spoken."

"Rad?" I laughed. "American term?"

"Groovy, hip, whatever you want to call it. I forgot our English adjectives in the midst of my New York life. Oh, you'd love it there! You and Bianca! It's bigger than London, but Central Park is smaller than Hyde."

"Okay, you can tell me about it on the way home," I promised, plunging my hands into my coat pocket and digging around for the keys to Robert's Coupe Deville, the one Jimmy had gotten a ride in the first time I met him. Daphne followed me without another word.


Once in the car, Daphne's things thrown in the back, she continued her verbal tour of America. "AC/DC is by far the best band ever. Jim Morrison died I think last year-- can you believe that? And you know how concert tickets are around ten dollars here? They're six-fifty in the states! Oh! Dollars! Ha, look at me! I'm all Americanized..."

"Are you living with Bianca for now?" I asked.

"Yeah, why?" Great, I thought. More competition. Plus, this cunt's got a big mouth and she's constantly pissing around and-- Oh! I'm starting to sound like G, the boys' manager! But aren't older sisters supposed to be the un-annoying, smart, proud ones?

"Let me key you in. We're living with a band right now because Bianca is dating the guitarist. Do you remember James Page from Epsom? He was in your year when he dropped out."

"Yeah, he came over a bit. I told everyone in America that I knew Jimmy before he was famous with his fan-dangled crew of Adonises. Wasn't he in a group before Zeppelin?"

I paused as the car in front of me turned. I thought everyone knew who the Yardbirds were? I thought they were as popular as the Who? Maybe I'm mistaken and they're only as popular as Traffic and the Faces... With a great deal of self-discipline, I ignored her comment and continued with what I was saying. "We're living with Led Zeppelin and Bianca is going steady with Jimmy-- DON'T say anything. We made up a room for you, but you can only live with us on one agreement, and this is a moral agreement. We're not so asinine as the Stones to have you sign things before even speaking to us-- Look at me! I'm saying 'us!' Ha! I meant the boys. But the agreement is that you don't go out to the Evening Post, The Daily Mail, The London Post, any of those tabloids and exploit our charges for your own gain. Agreed?"

Daphne thought for a moment and I made a mental note to myself to dumb-down my vocabulary. "Why would I do that?" she asked in reply. "While I was in America, I noticed that the Americans are so much more ill-mannered than us English..."

I tuned her out for the rest of the way home. As long as she promised not to exploit the band, ha! As long as she promised to keep her grummy, cushy Americanized fingers off my Jimbert, my man. True, he wasn't mine (yet), but I knew deep down that he and Bianca weren't meant to be. It had become obvious to me the day I had had lunch with him and Bianca; I was even surprised then that they were friends. He was well-mannered, well-rounded, well-disciplined, talented, business-savvy, and curious where she was obnoxious and go-with-the-flow. And although I had to admit I was a go-with-the-flow, un-business-savvy person myself, I knew that there was a connection Jimmy and I shared that he and Bia lacked.

But Daphne was a whole n'other story. She was easy; too easy. I knew well enough, having been around these lads since August and it being November, that as soon as a fresh piece of easy meat walked through the door, the guys would jump it and dump it. It had been two days since a groupie-- whom I saw as more of an home-order prostitute  since groupies didn't tend to be around a band when they weren't at a concert-- had been at the manor while Robert's wife was away and I new he was bubbling with withdrawal. Daphne was just the lighter to his joint for now, and I didn't mind. So long as she left Jimmy alone.

1000 Views!

Oh my God, I just love his face in this picture... and every other picture... He's so skinny.

Thank you all for helping me to reach 1000 views, especially since I haven't been posting lately. Although it has taken twice as long for this blog to hit 1000 as it had for any of my other blogs, I'm still proud! So once again, a special thanks to my readers! Here is your rare picture, as promised. Also, for a reward of breaking 1000, I'll be posting today as well! Jenni just loves Jimmy so much... Next challenge is 1500 views!