Charles and Ang get home, turn on Rage, and the Rolling Stones are playing.
Charles: They truly were an ugly band.
Ang: I can't get over how big his mouth is.
Charles: If he and Julia Roberts kissed, it would swallow the sun!
Anyway. By some total stroke of luck, I scored a ticket to the Sydney première of We Will Rock You, the Ben Elton-scripted musical that's really just a flimsy excuse to string a bunch of Queen songs together. It was way cool. If you like Queen songs, go see it.
The tickets were in the middle of the theatre, five rows back from the stage. Go me. Guy Sebastian was sitting in the seat in front of me, but I was too polite to tell him he was a soulless slave of corporate rock. He probably knows already. He seemed to take all the jokes about Australian Idol in the show pretty well.
By some even greater stroke of luck, I scored a pass in to the post-première party. It was full of Beautiful People, so we spent most of the time in a corner, feeling a little out of place in that crowd, and occasionally half recognising a face as it walked past. Later in the night, though, the pay-off. Brian May and Roger Taylor had turned up to the show, and took the stage at the party.
I was ten feet away from Brian May kicking some serious ass on guitar. Loud cries of "We are not worthy" were heard from the crowd.