I need to watch my back more carefully, because maybe the Hells Angels are Coming
Oh, I'm feeling unsettled, my friends. Unsettled indeed.
I picked up the Metro on my way to the train this morning, and I saw this article about how in the 60s the Hells Angels used to do security for all the Rolling Stones shows, but one of them got killed accidentally at a concert when everyone stormed the stage trying to get a piece of Mick's skinny little ass, and the Angels decided to retaliate big time. So in 1969, lil Mick narrowly escaped meeting a grisly death at the hands of these rabid road warriors, when their plot was foiled (by Keith Richards?)... Me oh my.
Well, this new and astounding piece of news made me start to think, you know, anyone can put a hit out on anyone else at any given time. I don't know why this never occurred to me before! I mean, given the sanguinary trail of mutilated hearts I've left littering the sidewalks of New York in my (relatively short, but passion-filled) lifetime, it's hard to imagine how I've thus far avoided meeting a terrible death, exacted by one of my avenging exes. I do believe that my recompense is nigh.
I can think of at least ten men off the top of my head who are probably plotting my demise right now as I write this. And there are probably 25 more whose names I can't even remember. And it sends a chill down my spine.
So, I've made a decision.
I'm going to get myself a bodyguard.
I can't afford a big frightful paparazzi-puncher like Britney has, but I think it's high time I find myself someone who can keep an eye out for me, ya know? I need someone whose sole purpose in life is to dedicate himself to watching my ass.