The following Stream of Consciousness story/poem is offered up as part of the Six Sentence Story challenge hosted by Girlie on the Edge blog. The additional challenge this week (set for me by Girlie – thanks mate 😲 😎) is that sentences #1 and #6 have already been written for my contribution, and I am left to fill in the gaps… no easy task when the beginning and end of a story is set in stone, and you are left to create the middle. But what is a challenge, if not challenging?

The prompt word this week is: Exchange. I believe Girlie on the Edge, InSPIRAtion and The Wakefield Doctrine blogs are also taking part in this SOC Exchange experiment (or are at least in some way culpable!). I have highlighted in bold the parts not written by me.

Warning: contains strong language, with words such as fuck, cuntish and cock, which may cause offense to some readers 😊


Jesus Christ, did I just see what I thought I saw, Jimi Hendrix in Seattle walking through a diner door, into the kitchen? and I ain’t bitchin’, coz I finally got to see him, in all his Purple Haze and Stratocaster itchin’…

… to be played. Kurt Cobain, curled up and foetal in a stomach-cramping session, Heart-Shaped box bust open like Pandora was spring cleaning, and I ain’t keening, coz I finally got to see him, and he smelt like Teen Spirit and All Apologies…

… to the loved ones left behind picking up the broken pieces. Brian Jones in undertones of swimming pool chlorine and Ruby Tuesday blues, and Robert Johnson at the crossroads in his Sunday-best shoes, and I ain’t causin’ issues, coz I finally got to see them, as they played a sweet duet on their respective guitars…

… that had Janis Joplin serenading the stars. Man, she swooned the moon and the grifting galaxies, melted hearts with Piece of My Heart, and screamed for the keys to a Mercedes Benz, and I ain’t mad nor gone round the bend, coz I finally got to see her, yeah me…

… Me and Bobby McGee, Me and Mr Jones. See, Amy Winehouse snuck in the house way past our bedtimes and appointments for Rehab, no time for a final tattoo and sexy-as-fuck new hairdo, and I ain’t going coocoo, coz I finally got to see her – non-commodity, tax-free, born and dead-free, no more anxiety, the 27 Club are free from punishing publishing deals and tours destined to end in tears, commodity, commodities, cuntish cocks in suits propping up bars and ignoring middle-eight chord changes and four-way harmonies, gahhhhhh, this SOC Exchange of mine laments the greed of Greatest Hits and The Very Best Ofs, and AI bots strapping on guitars and mashing up lyrics and superstars, they say: what the 27 Club won’t see will never hurt them, because they already hurt themselves in some rock ‘n roll way, and we are free to pick up the pieces and bargains and exploit their passed days…

I’m out for a bargain” we say, not only when we venture the perilous waters of the markets but also in the realm of human relationships; no surprise here, as marketing guidelines have become the One-To-Rule-Them-All law governing human relationships of love no, fuck that part about love, I exercise my right as a creator… I’m talking about the music!!! – thank you 27ers for giving us a glimpse, as you bowed out before your shining star was eclipsed, and I ain’t cruisin’ for a bruisin’, coz I finally got to meet the 27, infusing laughing my tits off with them about the morally-confused and ethically-corrupt stock exchange mantras such as minimize cost – maximize profit, at all GDMFSOB costs

27 written by Ford Waight, 14 July 2022.

27 photograph by Ford. 27 Club photo graphic by Six String Society via belenzon.com

27 is dedicated to musicians around the world who have suffered and are suffering from mental health problems and substance abuse.


  1. Picture this mate…sitting at the back garden , cigar, single malt, petrichor smell and Gary at a live Parisienne Walkways…and your SOC pops up!!!

    (Enter every affectionate profanity ever spoken in human history)

    Where do I start?
    How in hell you managed to connect the two sentences…and not only fill in the blanks but unleash a hellfire machinegun with a thousand bullets magazine ( Clark will have best metaphors😉)!


    But then again, if you couldn’t, then who?
    Denise knew…that’s why she threw a curve ball to you…wait, strike that…she used that ball canon they have for practice…and you just obliterated everything.

    You, sobs…made me bow …again …by order mate, Here comes the King!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Where do I even start with a reply, mate!?!

      Salut to your cigar and single malt in the back garden with Gary Moore (fuckin rocks)… for me, two beers in and a vodka mixer on my terrace (after a 13 hour shift), I’m just realising this is one of the best Sixes i’ve written, keeping in mind that two of the sentences were already pre-written, as you say… Denise threw a mofo cannonball at me and I loved it 😁 Ooof!

      Been dyin’ to write a tribute to the 27, so here it is, already did one for Kurt ages ago, but this is something Xtra special.

      Thanks in big hugs and cheers for your observations, my dear, dear friend, your words are so special to me and strike the heart 😎

      Liked by 2 people

  2. (alternating between holding a zippo in the dark strata over the heads of the audience* and rapping knuckles on the hope-scarred lacquered plywood tables as the SRO at the SSC&B hold their thoughts as your Six is read (or sung, surely play in multi-modalities)

    v cool, yo v cool

    (I tip my hat at the rhetorical virtuosity needed to weave two stories into one. Like most well executed skill, the story is clearly the only and true linkage,)

    Loved the ‘Warning’

    will be back (Like your buddy Nick, too much content for one comment)

    Liked by 3 people

  3. 🤘🏼 Whatthefuckedness did I just read?! Jimi, Janis, Morrison, Zep, Ozzy, Bowie, Blackmore, BOC, Mott and on and on and on. Seen ’em all. So great to relive these memories. Diggin’ this post so much!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks so much Nancy, glad you enjoyed 😊 Man, you just reeled off a whole bunch of bands that stand atop of the highest mountain! I’ve seen Ozzy and BOC (plus many others) but lament I never saw Blackmore or Bowie… sigh. Will check your blog out when I’m done with my long shifts at work, thanks for the follow, hey!

      Liked by 1 person

      • My pleasure; should be fun! It would be easier to list who we didn’t see than who we did! It all started with The Beatles in 1965 at Shea Stadium. We saw a ton of groups at a place called the Fillmore East; check it out if you’re not familiar. Multiple acts each weekend, many who were just starting out before they became big. Yeah, we had fun! 🤘🏼

        Liked by 2 people

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