Posted by: coolerbecky | June 3, 2009

Surreal Conversations about Shock Rockers

So, I’ve just got myself a VIP ticket to see Mr Cooper in his “Theatre of Death” show here in Sydney. It might well be his last show. The following conversations took place with members of my family about the concert in question.

First off, my sister. For those of you who aren’t in the know, my dearest sister is actually extremely normal. She’s a doctor married to a doctor, and she has a 1-year-old son, which makes this conversation that much more disturbing. She also doesn’t really listen to Mr Cooper’s music.

Sister: Do you have to give him a present? Not that I expect that he really cares, but I’m sure he has expectations of his fans. I mean, some of his fans bring blood to the concert.
Me: I don’t know what I can bring him as a present. I could knit him a scarf. What is he going to do with a scarf? He lives in Arizona.
Sister: Don’t knit him a scarf. Knit him like… a sushi. Or something like that.
Me: A sushi? Why would I make Mr Cooper a sushi?!
Sister: You know, because Asian girls make cute things.
Me: I don’t want to make him a sushi!
Sister: Make him a cuddly toy. A small one for him to hang on his guitar strap.
Me: There is something fundamentally wrong with knitting a cuddly toy for a shock rocker.
Sister: That is why I suggested it. I know! I know! You could knit him… a HEADLESS CHICKEN!
Me: Also not a good idea.

Next up to the chatting plate, is my beloved Father. He is also a doctor and a fairly serious man. Needless to say, I did not expect to hear such a thing from him.

Dad: So, what merchandise did you get?
Me: I think I’m getting a signed copy of the album and some other paraphanelia. I get to pick it up at the show.
Dad: I see.
Me: I may well get a signed copy of his pants. He’s famous for giving those away. Although, what I’m going to do with a signed copy of a pair of men’s pants, I don’t know. It’s not like I’m going to be able to wear them.
Dad: You should sell your pants at a premium.

My sister wants me to make sushi out of blood and my Dad wants me to sell my pants for fun and profit.

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