Monday, April 28, 2008
"nice shot, dick."
one time in houston we played with this band called wicked poser (it may have been spelled differently, like "wykkidd poseur" or something stupid like that) who were like this shitty kinda electro-dance noise duo (they had more fans than we did or probably do, so shitty is relative). it was right before south by southwest, so you'd be playing shows with a bunch of other random bands on their way to austin, super mellow country dudes and disco punks and whatever. i mean, i guess touring for us is kinda like that all the time anyway so...whatever (incidentally, that same night we played with the birds of avalon, who are easily one of the best rock bands touring right now. they completely fucking shred and you should go see them any chance you get. birds of avalon. awesome. i digress.) so anyway, it's like a 5 band free show, these guys get up there and do their thing, not my thing but a reasonably full room of people seem into it (most of which leave immediately after), so what do i know. i wasn't really watching so i never got a good look at who was actually in the band. after they played there was another band and then us. there seemed to be a small commotion in the bar as the second band played, but i didn't really take notice, just a drunk dude breaking a bottle or something. so we get up there and start into our first song, about halfway in i feel as though somebody shot me in the chest. i kinda stop playing a bit, but try and continue, realizing that somebody in the crowd threw something at me. after the song is over i look down and see that it's a large metal bottle opener. i didn't see who threw it, but they threw it hard. it fucking hurt and i was fucking pissed. whatever, fuck this crowd, i finish the set in a foul mood, putting as much hate into every song as i can muster. during our set i was also aware of more commotion in the rear of the bar, i just figured it was the same asshole as earlier and probably the same asshole that fucked with me. after the set i went outside for some air (this was easily the smokiest bar i have ever been in, my eyes were stinging. it sucked.) and came face to face with the obvious culprit in the process of being thrown out of the bar by a couple of the male staff members (including a huge actual u.f.c. dude). he was more wasted than anybody should ever be, and was dangerously close to getting his head crushed by these guys. they were just telling him to get out, go home, walk away, but he wouldn't. half an hour earlier i had wanted to kill the fucker myself, but now, seeing how truly wasted he was, i kind of took pity (i have almost been this guy a few times myself) and tried to reason with him. "just go, man" i said, "just go home, these guys are serious, they will hurt you."
he seemed to consider this for a moment before continuing to berate and taunt the bouncers. he was wearing a long bike lock chain around his torso which he then took off and began swinging around over his head, narrowly missing the face of a girl and one of the staff guys. things were getting real. fast. one of the guys was screaming that he was going to quit his job then and there just so he could beat the shit out of this fool, i think the girl who almost got hit was his girlfriend. the big u.f.c. guy, displaying a chuck norris level of deadly calm, tried firmly explaining the seriousness of the situation to no avail. there was a small crowd watching by this point and everyone, myself included, now really wanted to see this dude get pounded. i wanted to get a few hits in of my own. i can't even remember the kind of shit this guy was saying, but it was gnarly and wasted or not, he deserved to be beat and it seemed like he was slowly realizing that he was on his own. he stumbled off around the corner alive and unscathed. talking with the guys i found out that the commotion earlier had been this guy who had been in the first band, wikkid posur or whatever, walking around the bar with his dick out and grabbing at girls boobs, this is when they threw him out. and then, guess who comes back around the corner, this time weaving dangerously in traffic on a bike, bailing painfully in front of the club. he continues shouting things at the bouncers, trying to egg them on, but by this time it all seemed too pathetic and they just laughed at him. he kept walking into the relatively busy street, one time almost walking in front of a bus, before climbing back onto his bike and wobbling away into the night, shouting and cursing.
the next day i had a purple bruise over my heart.
fuck that guy and fuck his stupid band forever.
also, you should watch the dvd of the last rocket from the crypt show. someone throws something at speedo that apparently fractures his cheek bone, but he keeps playing and it fucking rules.
I know I was going to post a tour diary for our last little run through Canada, but you know I’m lazy and really, who cares? I know you don’t, because you are me and I’m the only person who reads this shit.
Here’s the general idea:
Drove across the states, stopping in fargo, north dakota and madison, wisconsin where we got drunk and hung out with some friends. Next we went up to Ontario where we drove around and played some shows and got drunk and hung out with friends. Then we made our way back west with black mountain, getting drunk and stoned and hanging out.
That’s it. I mean, tons of hilarious shit went down, but like I said, who cares? I’ve always been the kind of person who thinks about taking pictures, but always forgets to and kind of just goes with the moment…and then forgets about it. I’m stupid like that.
Ever watch pump up the volume with christian slater? i just watched it again recently. I remember when I first saw it, christian slater seemed so cool and bad ass... now he just seems gross. Could he get any greasier? The only decent thing in the movie is how hot and alternative Samantha mathis is. Her first movie, she briefly shows her breasts... sleazy film exec: “Samantha honey, you’re great, very talented…This is your big break, just give us a little titty and everyone’s happy, right? Sign here…” it’s not really a great movie, the whole teen angst angle comes off as pretty quaint, but I think it was a lot of people’s first exposure to some decent bands bla bla bla… can’t remember why I brought it up. i guess he thought no one was listening to his little pirate radio show and then it turns out that all the repressed and confused local teens are hanging on his every word -they need him, he becomes the thing that focuses their angst and dissatisfaction into full rebellion against the stifling world of their parents and teachers. good for them.
when i was a teenager i was too ruled by fear of getting in trouble and it showing up on my "permanent record" to rebel much, plus my parents have always been really cool and open and understanding. there wasn't much to rebel against, so i just listened to records, played my guitar and bided my time until i could get out and never look back. i hated school. it was easy for me, but traumatic in other ways. i was fat, somewhat awkward and crippled by religious guilt- a winning combo. the only thing that kept me going was music and i guess it still is.
Anyway, we’re currently back on tour. 6 weeks in America. For the love of god…
If I’m not batshit crazy now, talk to me in a month and a half.
Driving through Wyoming on our way to Denver from salt lake city, beautiful country…
Just bought a litre of whiskey for $7, god bless America and god help me.
So, I just turned 30. I am now officially A MAN. No more fucking around, time to straighten up and fly right and all that… it’s weird, I feel like I had a harder time in my mid twenties, mourning the death of my “youth” than I did turning 30. No big deal, still a fucking loser with no money and no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that I’m going to be sitting in this fucking van on and off for the entire year, not making any money, becoming increasingly paranoid and sketchy and obsessing about my health. That’s what I do. With hours of nothing to do every day my brain goes into weird loops of obsessive thought, usually related to my health or death or sex or sometimes things darker and more sinister until I become convinced that I’m straight up mentally ill. Then I obsess about that.
Bla bla bla me me me whine whine… BORING. I’ll try to be funnier next time, but right now there’s only fear and loathing.