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At my first real gig, I was playin' a set of originals with my two best friends, Jake and Brandon. After the show, this gypsy woman came up to us and gave us this whole spiel about, along with her, we could be revolutionaries through our music and change the world. She shook my friend's (Jake) hand and felt a few bumps. She asked what they were and he told them they were warts. She was like, "Oh, I'm a herbalist." She then whipped out this box of vegetables and herbs and stuff. She chewed up coconut and several other things and spit it onto his warts. By then, my friend was totally weirded out and frozen. Brandon and I stood there giggling. The venue had and outside part to it, and there were some flowers. She took the leaf of one of the flowers and wrapped the gooey, disgusting slop on his hand. She then took a bandanna and wrapped it again. There's more to the story, but I'm running out of space. Basically, she started hitting on Jake and we left ASAP.

I got invited to do a gig to fill in for a band that dropped out of the line up. We were the first act, but there weren't any people there. We started playing our set right on time... to an empty venue. Finally, when someone walked in, they yelled "Get off the stage."

I haven't been to that venue since. Lololol.

My very first guitar sits in the corner of my room in its case, covered in dust.

The guitar I use now (EJ-200) is called "Juno."

Reasons:

(1) Juno is my favorite movie, and (2) because it used to belong to my dad, and, while he had it, a drawer fell on it and made a huge break in it. It's damaged, but not broken-- just like Juno MacGuff.