The loneliness of the session guitarist.

By the way, Neil is not supposed to be drinking. Neil is supposed to be doing Bikram Yoga and calling his kids. In that order. And fucking teenage supermodels. So don't help him off the wagon. If he gets fucked up on his own power, then roll with it. Just don't let his drug coach find you. He'll beat you like a rented mule. Pummel the shit out of you. He'll say what's your guitar hand? Then he'll put that hand underneath his Porsche Boxster and run over it. Then you will be at Ralph's bagging groceries with a gimped out hand. If that happens, you might as well throw a hearing aid in with it all, too. Complete the outfit. Ride the city bus like Rosie O'Donnell. So, hell, what I am saying is, if a guy can't order lunch, he has no business taking a guitar solo.

Speaking of soloing, when it's the other guys' turns to solo, don't sit there looking at your shoes, bobbing your head, with your arms tucked at your sides like you're a goddamn muppet. This ain't Sesame Street. Okay Grover?