They used to call him 'Groundhog' because he had some dirty ways

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a story involving saxophonist Evelyn Young. The band would often cross into Mexico to visit a favoured bordello when they had some time off in Houston, and on one occasion Evelyn, who liked to dress in men's clothing, insisted on joining the pilgrimage. The bordello was a rather informal affair: lacking actual rooms it had curtained-off areas each equipped with a bed for the patron. Evelyn. undetected as a woman by the girls, had made her selection along with the others and things were proceeding swimmingly for everyone until a scream and a lot of Spanish expletives came from Evelyn's 'room’ and her girl went tearing through the cubicles, breaking down the ropes and curtains and jumping over beds and bodies.

Fast Fuckin’ Fannie, Butcher-Knife Totin’ Annie, Pistol Pete

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Wolf and Sunnyland were arguing on the way to a gig one night. Sunnyland ended the argument by yelling, “Hey, I didn’t tell you that when you chopped that man’s head off with a hoe!” Hubert Sumlin asked what he was talking about. Sunnyland said, “I’m just telling it like it is. The motherfucker did chop a man’s head off!” Shaken, Wolf stopped the car and walked away. Taking Hubert home that night, Wolf told him it was true; he’d killed someone. He’d gotten into a fight with a man and hit him with a hoe, slicing the top of his head off and killing him instantly. Terrified, he ran and hid in a drainage ditch while a posse hunted for him with hounds. The next day, his fellow Masons helped him aboard a passing train and he fled the scene.

"We just decided to go as wild as we could"

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“I had a very serious talk with Jerry about his image. We went to the restaurant next door to the studio and sat down in a booth. Jerry had one of his pickers with him. He always had someone with him. You could rarely get him one-on-one. I told him what I thought we should do, in as much detail as I thought he could absorb in one sitting. I wanted to get him out of typical rock ’n’ roll regalia. Ivy League was in. I wanted him to get a crewcut. I wanted to hold a press conference where Jerry would announce that he was somewhat remorseful. He would take on an adult image. We discussed it for over an hour. Jerry was very polite and listened. He would nod every once in a while, but he kept looking at his watch. Finally, he shook it like it wasn’t working and he looked at his buddy across the table and said, ‘What time is it?’ The guy said, ‘It’s five before one.’ Jerry said, ‘Oh! The double feature at the Strand starts in five minutes. It’s Return of the Werewolf and The Bride of Frankenstein Meets Godzilla. Then he jumped up and left the table. That was the last time we discussed Jerry’s image.”

the hottest go-go dancer in Memphis with a rocket-fueled money-maker

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the fast talking MC appeared before a trendy looking band in short jacketed, thin lapelled sharkskin suits moving in choreographed steps to rhythms undulating from their instruments. The MC stalked the stage and boisterously hawked the name of Jackie Wilson a hundred times and more. "Are you READY? For JACKIE, Jackie WILSON!" A hundred times. The band vamped. The stage lights were lurid; the audience became more and more edgy ... then, Jackie Wilson entered stage right wielding a hand held microphone. The smooth, milk chocolate skinned star was also dressed in a svelte, short jacketed sharkskin suit razor lapels and sporting chisel pointed shoes. He belted out "There's no pity on the Naked City" in the high pitched tones that drove the audience completely crazy. Suddenly everyone was standing in their seats clapping and swaying in a heightened emotional frenzy that held them totally wired until the last note was struck. Jackie Wilson got down on one knee. He threw off his jacket, and ripped open the front of his shirt. Every woman in the house was crying, tears streaming down their faces. Time stood still.