This story is too funny. Read on.
http://www.livejourn..rs/tomluv/13923.html
Who's your favorite faux Christian ex-rock star?
"So how did your last night in Gainesville go?" you curiously ask. "Sit down and let me tell you the tale of the best night of my life," I anxiously reply.
Lead Singer of Creed Gets Punk'd
Friday, July 29. My last night in Gainesville. I've had my party and said my goodbyes to most of my friends. One group actually didn't make it to the party, but were possibly still coming, and instead of having them walk into an empty house (literally-- no furniture) devoid of people, I went over to their place.
So I'm saying goodbye to pals Jeanine and Heather. They have a few friends over to their place and are already stoned and drunk, seemingly ready for bed quite soon. I hear mumbling in the other room of some kids leaving soon because they have to go see Scott Stapp. My pop culture radar is not currently on, so I'm missing the reference. Instead, I think they're just talking about a friend who's driving in from out of town. But they're quite adamant about seeing Scott. "I'm fucking walking to Denny's to see Scott if I have to, I don't care if no one else goes!" one kid says.
So I'm curious and ask one of the guys what's going on. He tells me the background story: Apparently, one of their friends met Scott Stapp (who, because I find no problem with conflation, will for the rest of the story be referred to as "Creed") at an airport bar and the girl pretended to be interested. At the end of their conversation, he asked for her number and because she was going to Amsterdam, she gave Creed her friend's number instead. The girl then calls her friend and warns her that Creed might be calling her sometime in the future for a hook-up.
Which he does. Friday night. He flew into Orlando and gave the girl a call. The girl, thrilled at the prospect of making Creed look like an idiot, plays along. "You should drive up to Gainesville tonight to see me!" she says. Creed, because his star has fallen quite a bit recently (if you hadn't noticed) eagerly accepts the offer to drive 2 hours to get some pussy. I guess the groupies aren't lining up outside the airport like they used to.
I heard through the grapevine that night that Creed had actually kicked Scott Stapp out of their band. I don't know if this is true or not as no one on the Internet has any stories about it. But I googled him recently and found out that his solo career isn't taking off nearly like he expected, despite being the first released single off the Passion of the Christ Songs CD-- songs inspired by the movie. Mel Gibson hand picked him for a special screening, and he wrote a song after he was so personally affected by the movie. Douche.
Anyway, so the guy who was so spiritually affected by The Passion of the Christ is now hightailing it to Gainesville to tag a piece of ass he met in an airport bar. And he's having his ghettotastic hootchie skanky Jersey girl sleaze of a sister drive him. Yes, Creed is making his sister drive him to the Gainesville Denny's for a booty call.
So this group from the party makes it over to Denny's, strategically choosing places all around the Denny's so that we can watch what goes down. It's 3am on a Friday, so of course the place is packed with drunk kids getting out of the bars, who have no idea what they're about to be in for. Jeanine, Heather, and I all have prime seating-- we're directly next to the booth with the girl who has been talking to Creed, as well as her 5 friends who are all in on the joke and have been planning extra embarrassing things to do to him. The girl who is keeping track of him via cell phone convos lets me know that Creed has been in fine form so far tonight. Here is how one of the conversations went:
Creed: "Do you have an acoustic guitar with you in Gainesville?"
Her: "Um, yeah."
Creed: "Good, maybe you can help me write my new hit single!"
Me, after hearing the story: "I applaud your ability not to vomit at that."
Now we're convinced he's on his way. We hear the countdown from the table next to us: "He's in Micanopy!" "He's passing UF!" "He's pulling into the parking lot!" The excitement is killing me. And then he enters. Creed steps into the Gainesville Denny's, wearing a wife beater and slick running pants, desperately trying to find his hookup. My life is complete.
The girl who's been talking on the phone with Creed has a friend who recently broke his arm. So as soon as Creedy walks in, he screams, "Oh my god! You're Scott Stapp! You're my favorite singer ever! Sign my cast!" Creed, probably even himself realizing how sucky it is to be the (former) lead singer of Creed, denies it. "I get that a lot... I just look like him. I'm not him." HA!
Then the Denny's cop comes over: "Both of you, outta here! No screaming in Denny's! Manager's orders!" Delicious. The lead singer of Creed is getting kicked out of the Gainesville Denny's.
Cast arm boy obviously doesn't want our fun to be over so quickly, so he sweet talks the cop and gets him to rescind his ejection. Creedy keeps walking around, trying to find the girl he talked to in the airport bar, feverishly running to the back to get better cell phone reception and then moving back to the front to try to find her. Of course, the girl has stopped answering her phone now and the Denny's partrons are just watching Creed walk around looking desperately horny.
And the best part is watching the other people as they notice who this guy is. "Hey, that's the Creed guy!" they all say as he walks past them. Then, 5 seconds later and as soon as he's out of earshot: "Wait, who cares? Creed sucks!" This is seriously the reaction of every table that I hear as he walks by. So sad, for him. Oh, and the dude is like 5'6". I'm not joking. When he walked by, he was at least (AT LEAST) 3 inches shorter than me. Midget.
