Someone posted an ad on Craigslist today and it was promptly removed. Thankfully the text was copied and it's had me rolling all afternoon.
Terrible band needed for sham of a wedding. 11/6. No pay (South Chicagoland)
As the musician in our family, my Shylock of a half-brother and his parsimonious fiance have passed off to me the job of finding a band for their wedding. I love the kid, but his unique brand of expectant coercion and astonishingly consistent lack of judgment have left me with no recourse but to literally give him what he wants, a band that can “tear up Skynyrd, and won’t cost nothin’”. Since they think music is spontaneously generated via voodoo magic by assemblies of self-promoting philanthropists, I am now on a quest to find the best working band in Chicago interested in “doing it for the exposure”.
If you are a serious musician that values your craft and earns a living from performance, you’re probably thinking “Fuck you. Do you ask your accountant to do your taxes for the exposure?”. You are not who I am looking for.
If however, you and your unemployable band of pothead hobbyists are enticed by the prospect of a free open bar stocked with the finest of suburban banquet hall well-liquor and an opportunity to run a train on the most whorish collection of self-entitled bridesmaids this side of a Sex In The City marathon, please contact me. There’s probably dinner in it for you too, if the starched vagina of a “wedding planner” (bride’s bff) can get her 3rd rung caterer to leave a few sandwiches in a storage closet for you at some point in the evening.
What I need from the band:
I don’t care if you are an original Icelandic thrash-raga act featuring steam calliope and backwards Armageddon poetry, but I need you to be able to train wreck your way through a few requests.
Don’t Stop Believing. You provide the high notes, we’ll provide the smell of wine and cheap perfume.
Free Bird. Go nuts with the solo. Really. If this evening was a never-ending cascade of sonic punishment hailing down on Tom at blaringly inconsiderate volumes, it would only serve as apropos karmic revenge for the afternoons I’ve spent listening to Jillian chatter about OHMYGODIDON’TCAREWHAT.
Macarena/Electric Slide/Chicken Dance. It doesn’t matter which one you play, but there has never been a classy party where one these songs has made an appearance. This will not be a classy party.
Do Not Play:
Jessie’s Girl. I used to play weddings, and if I have to hear this song one more time, I’m going to fucking cut someone.
They said they don’t have any preference’s for attire, so I’ll take that to mean you’re ok in a threadbare Megadeth shirt and black jeans.
I will provide the PA (the band and sound system are my wedding present to them).
This is not a joke. Please shoot me an email if this sounds like something you might be interested in.
via Owl and Penguin, Reddit and Creative Loafing