“She just fucking copied a text I’d already sent,” she said. “No wonder you thought it sounded like I’d written it. But I don’t send thing... like that to anybody else – and damned sure not to him. The label might think he’s something special but I know he’s a piece of shit.”“At least you have solid grounds for dismissal,” I said. “I would think sending your private phone number to anyone without your permission would violate about 30 different clauses in the contract.”“I’m going to snap her neck. Now she was paying for it. God knows I had met enough of them. My own parents, for whatever reason had conceived me and then continued on the road. I learned later that it was all they knew. Fortunately, for all of us, they were good at what they did.The circuit we'd lived on was unending. We had no home. There was simply no off-season that we could look forward to. It was, as the song says, 'On The Road Again'. Every stop had its collection of others. They all had the same look on their faces.. More

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