Sometimes life sucks. But SOMETIMES you see Full House stars at hick bars.

You know how on Full House, Uncle Jesse is in that band "Jesse and the Rippers"? Of course you do. Well, a few months back, I went with some people to this old fogey bar called Cowboy Country over in Long Beach. We're standing in line outside and hear a bunch of the people walking out talking about John Stamos. "Odd topic of conversation for so many people to coincidentally have chosen at this random location," I mull silently to myself. And then we walk inside where, low and behold, John Stamos is playing the drums. Ahh... so that's why...

 

John Stamos

                                  The Neil Morrow Band









Since I was practically raised in that health-and-fire-code-breaking full house alongside those Tanners, this definitely goes down as one of the top 8 greatest moments of my life.

<-----Thanks to that night, Jesse Katsopolis and I are like this.


Highlights of the evening include:

-The lead vocalist/keyboardist breaking out into the Full House theme song as well as "Jesse's Girl" (much to Stamos' chagrin).

-The fact that the rest of my group had to point out to one of our friends which one John Stamos was. (WHAT?!)

-The fact that one of us had the knowledge and insight to realize that it would be a grave mistake to exit the bar without having gotten a photograph with Mr. Stamos. Though this did require a bold and daring dash onstage during the set, it did result in the photograph that he himself POSED for whilst drumming along. It also resulted in security escorting us out of the building... but that was to be expected.

Elise (the brilliant stage-bombing mastermind), Stamos, and myself. We're the three best friends that anybody could have. Obvi. (Do you love how I had to blow the picture up to EXTRA large size for you to even remotely identify him? Haters gonna hate.)

So the next day, I told one of my roommates about this little escapade. She laughed... and then went on to tell me that, several weeks earlier, she had been sitting in an airport in Europe next to Mr. T, kindly offering him her Tide-To-Go pen when he spilled his beverage all over himself.

She wins...

...for now.

Axl Rose. A True Story.

It's that time again. Time for yet another installment of the chronicles of the exceedingly irrelevant and absolutely insignificant coincidences of my life.


A few years ago, I was over at a friend's house. He, being a classic rock lover, and I, being a classic fool, had a conversation that went something like this:




Friend: Blah, blah, blah, blah, guitars, blah blah blahhhhh, music, blah blah BLhaaHAhaHAHa, Axl Rose, blah blah bliggity blah blah blah.


Carsten: Who's Axl Rose, again?


Friend: WHAT? You don't know who AXL ROSE is? GUNS N' ROSES?.... I DATED YOU??? [Slew of expletives.]


Carsten: I'm... Sorry?



The next day, I was hangin' out with my Pops, watchin' TV and eatin' food and what not. OUR conversation went something like this:




Pops: Carst, I had the strangest dream last night!


Carsten: Oh  yeah, Pops? What about?


Pops: I dreamt that you didn't know who Axl Rose was.... weird!


Carsten: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......






My friend and my father do not communicate and I had not told anyone about the conversation from the previous night. To my knowledge, nobody had seen any documentaries on Guns N' Roses in the recent past, and my friend lives far enough away from my parents' house as to render eavesdropping from across the expanse physically impossible.


So.... basically, my dad can read minds. Just like my sister. It's the only feasible explanation.


All that to say, I now know exactly this many more things about Axl Rose than I did before: One. (He is from Guns N' Roses).