I love Ozzy Osbourne, the singer of one of my favorite bands of all time: Black Sabbath. His early solo work was great too. But can you imagine he’s still alive? Holy crap!
But I think I have figured this out, why someone like Ozzy Osbourne seems to survive so many other people despite such perhaps irresponsible behavior. You see, I think the Angel of Death doesn’t want to have to take him anywhere.
Yes, I think the Angel of Death gets the contract to pick up Ozzy, and he says: “What, that guy who snorted a line of ants to impress Slayer that he was crazier than them? F*ck that! And the guy who bit the head off a dove in a business meeting? I have wings too: he might bite my head off! Up yours! You go get him if you want him! He probably smells, too.” And no one else wants to do it either. And so he’s still alive.
(BTW: I remember when Randy Rhoads died: the day it happened. I was in middle school, and I had a band rehearsal, and our guitar player, who was older, showed up late with a plastic bottle of vodka and said: “We have to get f*cked up: Randy Rhoads is dead!” {<But he didn’t put the asterisk in, as I recall. But Randy Rhoads was his hero, so you can’t really blame him, can you?} Wow, he was gone so fast! But he left a lot of great stuff behind. And he never got stale. Like James Dean, we will always remember him in his prime, as a genius, and a cool badass. {Hey, there’s got to be some reward for missing out on a long life!})
