One must assume that Mickey only brought underwear and socks on tour, and each day wandered–bare-chested and half-cocked–by the merch table to yoink himself a fetching top.
If Mrs. Donna Jean had balls, they’d fall out of those shorts. Balls are always looking for a way out; they’re like Papillon.
What the hell is Bobby playing? It’s an Ibanez, but it’s not Cowboy Fancy. Anyone?