The seven or eight people who are in the habit of checking this blogular space have no doubt identified a certain formulae to the posts. Whining, cringeing anecdotes about social failure, hate, jealousy and wierd times on the road with CC.
But for this post I thought we could try something a little different.
Rather than dredging up some humiliating flashbacks and attempting to find humor and wisdom in them, I thought we could take a bit of a step back, take a deep breath and have a look at some snaps of the Baaron being intense and awesome.
That's right, our little freind Baaron Von Cuddles III.
Most of the time we just take him for granted, like some sort of spindly, uncomfortable piece of furniture that makes alot of harsh noise when it's plugged in. But the truth is that out there on the road the Baaron gets "radical" and "gnarly" almost every night.
Put that weird fucker on a soap box in front of 5 people with his Jazzmaster and his dinky little 30 watt ampliphier and all of a sudden zzzzzzaaaanggg!!!
It's like shooting an enormous stick-insect full of meth and granting it magical shredding powers!
It's a sad fact that in the pages of this very blog The Baaron Von Cuddles has often been portrayed as less than a gentleman, and sometimes less than human.
In the past I have labelled him a bully, a liar, a show-pony, a violent paranoid bigot and a bad friend. Amongst other things.
But I have never once denied that he has "wicked chops", or suggested that he is less than sincere about his craft. That would be dishonest.
So let's hear it for BVC3.
Shredding for Satan, bringing home the bacon.