Spanish Castle Magick
DemonSpawn
Date:
19/10/2005
Hey, I'm back after a long absence. It's been fun, but not voluntary. You see, I'm just on my way home about a month or so ago, all fired up to impart another little bit of wisdom to you all. I'm about to hop on my bike and shoot home, when who flies up on his purple dragonfly and stops right next to me, but Hendrix, Himself. He says would I like a ride, and I say, “Damn fuckin' straight!” So I hop up on the big beast with the shimmery wings, and we bugger off up to his Spanish castle for a spliff.
So we we're parking off on the roof, just smoking and chilling and chatting up a storm, when the Man says, “Fuckin' hell! You know- Morrison! That cat is always late!”
Then he laughs, gets out his old accoustic, and starts jamming. Somewhere in the castle underneath us, I hear this chick, singing along, just doing the whole improv-type Blues thing. Next second, the door opens and out steps Janis Joplin, still singing. She steps through the door, followed by the rest of the gang: Brian Jones, Steve Clark, Freddy Mercury, Kurt Cobaine (hey! Who said he was allowed!), Michael Hutchence, and a whole bunch of other dudes I didn't recognise, but who all turned out to be awesome blues artists. They never get a mention. So sad.
Anyway, so it turns out I at the biggest, most famousest of all jam sessions, which actually happens quite often. We play and sing and smoke and drink, we shout and laugh and make fun of all those assholes who try out for Idols. We come up with kick-ass riffs, and styling lyrics, and when we put it all together, it sounds like nothing on Earth.
Ha ha ha.
The stars shine out and we breathe in the free air. And then after a while, people start leaving, until it's just Jimi and I again. Then he says, “So, do you dig the place?”
I laugh. No, I actually giggle, but I can't really talk because there's nothing really to say.
He reckons, he's keen for another ride in the clouds, so we hop on his dragonfly, and see the world from the top for a while. Then we go back down, and I'm home.
Hendrix says, “So you wanna come visit again, just holler,” and then all I can see is a glowy purple thing getting smaller. And I go inside, and it turns out I've been gone for just over a month. Didn't feel that long, and I was in a whole bunch of shit, but hey, what type of cretin would pass up a ride like that?
