Special Guest Blogger: Bon Scott

Australian rock gods are about as rare as a sober Australian but i started out as AC/DC's chauffeur which isn't bad as far as promotions go.
Of course it ended with me being found dead after choking on my own vomit parked on a London back street but the bit between was brilliant.
I brought a loud, crazy, frantic, and overtly sexual energy to the group, not to mention an 8-year-old's sense of humor, at the Sunbury Rock Festival, we got into a fist fight with the rock band Deep Purple when we nicked their equipment and another one with the boys from Black Sabbath when we said they were washed up has-beens.
The adage may be never give up, never slow down, never grow old and never ever die young but it's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll, but apparently at least part of that journey takes you to a club named the Music Machine, a heroin dealers apartment and then finally to East Dulwich where you are left to die.
My band did go on to bigger and better things, they did consider Slade vocalist, Noddy Holder apparently but i was always the force behind AC/DC, I sang the songs and it was my face on the merchandise with the big hair, getting the girls, the non-stop partying, the clubs, the hotel suites, the TV smashed into a thousand pieces on the forecourt beneath our hotel suite window.
I sang about working class people, trying to make it through a tough life, I sang about the things they wanted like trashing hotel rooms, wearing glitter on your eyes, and waking up in a ditch next to a totalled sports car or not waking up in a pokey French car in a back street and dying young and leaving a beautiful, if a bit sick smelling, corpse. Rock n Roll!