Shiny new pickup for The Porn Shop One in hand.
Soldering iron nicely warmed up.
Everything looking cool and groovy and
now I'm sitting comfortably,
I begin.
Two minutes and it is all over.
(Why does that ring a bell?)
Not only have I managed to burn right thru the pickup connecting wire, but I've also turned the existing wiring in the lovely rusty body into a single glob of melted putridness.
How, you might ask?
Well, I took my eye off the ball - answered the fone and left the soldering iron, precariously sitting in it's stand, not for a moment imagining that it would topple over and into the guitar.
Which it did.
With hilarious consequences.
So, I start again.
At least the wood wasn't set alight, I guess.
So that was at 9.05am. Great start.
Needing a bit of therapy, I thought I'd polish some frets on a neck I've been practising on. So fretboard guard in place, wire wool in hand I begin.
First few frets look great, but the next one is clearly a bit on the sharp side as I realise when I see that the fretboard is developing a somewhat claret hue. And my finger is trickling blood all over it.
That was 9.30am.
Luckily I had a large Mr Bump plaster left.
No stitches required, I don't think.
Hot, sweet tea and a couple of crumpets later, I figure that maybe I'll leave those for today and do something completely different.
I got the lovely parquet Tele body for The Floored Genius One, and marked where I need to drill the holes in it.
That went OK.
Next I reached for my Ye Olde Handraulic Drill and...
Then I thought that maybe that wasn't a good idea either.
I'd probably kneecap meself.
Asking for trouble.
Instead then, by 10.30am the Jooky day is over and I'm going to go and visit a gallery or walk along the sea front or something.
Sometimes you just have to take the hint, don't you?
Sometimes the universe has it in for you, dude! When the planets align, though, the guitar gods smile upon us, and as a wise man once said: good things come to those who wait!
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