An out of work pianist with Tourettes Syndrome is strolling around the
streets and bars of Soho one unemployed afternoon.
Walking down Dean Street, he sees a lounge bar with a sign in the window
'Pianist wanted for evening performances'.
"Fu**ing get in there you c*nt!" he says to himself and goes to the bar.
"Get the fu**ing manager of this pigs*it middle class w*nkhole please you
c*nt", he says to a somewhat startled barman.
The barman however obliges and his manager comes upstairs. "Can I help you
sir?" he says "Yes you can you fat piece of s*it, I saw your poxy advert in
the c*nting window and I'm here to audition......w*nker."
The manager is naturally put off by the man's abrasive manner but his dire
need for a top class pianist forces him to agree to an audition.
The first tune the Pianist plays is an uplifting jazzy number, not too
involving, yet utterly melodic. At the end the thrilled barman cries,
"Wonderful, wonderful. What was that called?"
"That song, you big nosed tw*t, was called "Excuse me prime minister but I
just j*zzed in your daughter's eye, and now the c*nt's blind..."
"Oh" says the manager...err, can you play me another. Something a little
less 'lively'".
"W*nker" interjects the pianist before launching into a powerful ballad that
leaves the manager in tears. The manager through his salty teardrops asks
him the title. "That little number was called 'Sometimes when you do a bird
up the sh*t box you get cr*p on your bell end'".
"I see" says the manager, "Have you got any songs with less offensive
titles?" "Well there's my jazz number 'Do you want me to split your
r*ngpiece', or there's the epic 'I don't care if you're older my dear,
you've still got nice jugs'".
"Look" says the manager interrupting, "I think you're a superb pianist but
the title of your songs are a little racy.
I will hire you on the condition that you do not introduce your songs or
speak to the audience".
"F*ck it" says the pianist "Why not".
On his first night everything is going superbly the crowd is lapping up his
repertoire and his silence is being received as modesty. The only thing
putting off the pianist is that in the front row there is a gorgeous blonde
in a black evening dress with a split up the side revealing the tops of her
stockings, and a plunging neckline which boasts a proud and inviting
cleavage.
During the interval the pianist has got such a stonking hard on that he
decides to go to the bog and knock one out. Just as he has shot his load he
hears himself being re-introduced over the tannoy, so he rushes back to the
stage and finishes his act.
After the show he is at the bar relaxing when the blonde approaches him.
"Hi" she says. "Hello" he winces, struggling to hold in the expletives. She
leans over and whispers in his ear, "Do you know your c*ck is hanging out of
your trousers and sp*nk is dribbling onto your shoes?"
Placing his beer confidently on the bar, the pianist grins, looks her square
in the eye and yells........... "Know it?" - "I f*cking wrote it!!!"
