The Tale of Rock Steady 6: Ronseal.

So, I'll get out of the way first. I won a chance to buy two tickets for the LiveEarth gig in Hyde Park on the 7th July 2007, and I cannot go. So, I am opening it up to the first person who can email me ( gets the text message instructions. It costs £55 per ticket, and it is a rather nice line up. Only 60000 tickets are available out of the 220'000 that entered, so I suppose I am lucky.

Due to negotiations with certain parties, the offer has been recinded. Rar!

Onto this weeks tale of Rock Steady. Wow! What a rocking show! Lostprophets were amazing, with heavy riffs, banter with the audience, and large fights in the pits. I was backstage, and they were all taking cocaine off groupies backs, shagging each other, kissing random stewards, even I got my balls licked.

Actually,I am sure you have worked out, I did not steward Lostprophets. No siree. Sometimes I wish I would end up doing what I was told I would be doing.

I stewarded a book signing. Rock and Roll.

I was asked to work on the other side of the SECC with Paolo Coelho, an esteemed author (of which I had never heard of, and had to admit this to himself) of many books. After some muddled management trying to figure out how best to sort this whole thing out (which gave me a few moments to speak to hima dn his staff)I was then put on the doors inside the auditorium and listened to him talk about his life and other things. It was really interesting, but not the gig that I was expecting. I got away at 9pm, but will be paid till 10.30pm anyways, so its all good.

I'll tell you one of his jokes. A man lives in Italy, and goes to bed one night, and in his dream whilst he is asleep, an angel comes to him. She warns him of "a great flood" and God will keep you safe, you will survive. He wakes up and sees that it is raining; it rains for days upon end. On the third day of this rain, a group of police men come to his house.
"We are evacuating the village" they say.
"I am not leaving. God said I would be fine, and I have faith" the man says.
On the fifth day, the water level has risen to above the first floor, and they arrive with a boat.
"Come on, you must come with us or you will surely die!" they plead.
"No, you are asking me to question my faith. God said I would be fine through an angel coming to me in my dreams. I will stay."
The water rises to above the second floor, and in a final attempt to rescue him, the arrive in a helicopter and throw a rope at him.
"Pick up the rope! You will surely die if you stay!"
"No, I am not moving. I have faith in the Lord."
So, he drowns.

Upon arriving at heaven, he is bewildered.
"How can I be dead?" he proclaims to St Peter.
"Well, there was a flood..." explains St Peter.
"But I got a message from God, from an angel that I would survive! I cannot come in to paradise if God is a liar."
St Peter would not normally take this sort of blasphemy, but humours it. "I shall check with God." he says.
St Peter returns, "I have spoken to God, and he said that yes, he sent you an omen in the form of an angel, who did say you would survive."
"Yes? So how can he explain my being here" exclaims the man, at his wits end.

"Well," says St Peter, "He also sent you three fucking rescue parties too."

Note: I editted this post a second time because I noticed that I mentioned his "wife" which is in correct, as actually it turns out he is a bit of an occultist and probably bisexual. Research about him revealed some rather intersting tidbits about his life, of which he made no mention of, and I have managed to change my perception of him rather dramatically.