Letter from a Brownstone

Dear Axl Rose,

I am sorry that I used your likeness on stage this weekend. I was you not only in New York but in Boston as well. I wore a kilt like you did and a bandana like you did and grew a beard like you did and tried to sing like you did. But if you were Elvis, I would have been Aloha Elvis, which I like better than young Elvis.

I used cheat sheets for all the songs that I thought I knew. You write so many words and its hard to remember. I apologize. But, boy oh boy, you should have seen the mess of notes at the end of the night. It looked like I was reading old timey data sheets in the rain. You see where I’m going?

I also didn’t drink the sweet tea that was offered to me. But, in that I think I was straight on with you.

Oh, and by the way, I don’t know what road you paved but your audience loves to have water spit at them. I should feel bad for such behavior but I don’t. When a fake Union soldier pokes his finger at a fake Confederate soldier and says, "You are dead. I just poked you with my finger that represents a sword used by the man I am reenacting," I feel I was completely in line. I did see you in ’93 at Texas Stadium but was too far away to have seen you spit if you did. I noticed you pouted a bit so I did the same and it covered up me reading the handheld cheat sheets that were the back ups to my large cheat sheets.

In closing, I am sorry but I had a good time being you. You should be happy that you are Axl Rose. That’s the difference between me and a civil war reenactor. Oh, and what’s so civil about war anyway? Haha. Get it? Anyway, my weekend was awesome because you made it awesome.

good times