I remember back in `91, me and the members of Right Said Fred were hanging out in Perth, watching (strangely enough) "Drop Dead Fred" at the
local cinematheque when one of us got the bright idea to shave our heads. Chalk it up to the folly of youth, I guess, but the three of us spent that
night tossing down glass after glass of Shiraz with cold scalps and warm bellies.
I woke up the next morning absolutely obliterated, my stomach churning like a cement mixer, and as I threw up my lamb dinner from the night before, I
muttered through bilious spittle, "What's going on?"
I called Linda Perry later that afternoon and the rest, as they say, is music history.
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