Georgia
The sign above me says:
COMPUTER FOR GUEST USE ONLY
Please Be Courteous If Others Are Waiting To Use The Computer.
Thank You
This computer is taking way too long to load its pages. Back at the awesome Motel 6. So here's what happened today. When it is at ALL possible, we try our best to be on time to shows that we can actually be on time for. Since we were 20 minutes away we decided to show up on time to this show that, yknow, we weren't supposed to be playing (we took Bum Ruckus's slot without asking the promoter until like about 2 hours before).
We roll up and the place looks awesome. But no one is there. It is a while before doors, so we wait a while. We backline our stuff. We sleep a bit. No one is there but the bands. "Fuck" we all say to ourselves simultaneously. We slept a whole lot at the venue and then were treated to The Cubists, a band that consisted of a guitar/singer and a drummer and they rocked pretty hard. Up next were a punk rock band called Sick Sick Sick. It was their first show and they covered a Turbonegro song. They also had a sing-along about cell phone ring tones. I think they tried to get the crowd to chant back and forth "Change your ring tone" and "I like my ring tone." The cool thing about this band is that their drummer has a leg problem in which his legs are turned outward. It made it difficult for him to walk, but he still played the DRUMS! OF ALL INSTRUMENTS. His kick pedal was pretty cool at time. And this is how he did it: Draw an upside down "V"
done? Ok... now draw the same thing but increase the angle.
Done? One side of the V was one leg going to a bass drum and one leg going to a hi-hat. It was pretty cool to see. Up next, to follow the eclecticism of this show was a ONE MAN BAND. This guy, Duck Duck Grey Duck, strapped a bass drum on his back with a megaphone attached to it, wore a headpiece that contained the mouthpiece to that megaphone, put tambourines all on one of his legs and tied a saddle to his other leg which controlled the bass drum. He then proceeded to march around the room while screaming and playing the accordion. We didn't know if we could really follow that up, but for some reason we REALLY REALLY REALLY did well at this show. It was a lot of fun. There were only about 15 kids there, but those 15 kids knew how to have a good time and I would take that over a room full of bored hipsters or assholes waiting for the local band ANY DAY. There were a lot of interesting characters from a mother of a four-month-old child to a [pc term for very very short guy] who told us after the show that he was being flown out to Japan with the Independents so he could dress up as a midget devil or somethin. He told me "It's great. I get to go to Europe and Japan for free just for being short!" The show was so much fun, we even convinced the guy from Duck Duck Grey Duck (his name is Alex, but you don't know that) to play "Piss Off" with us. We were all in a pretty bummed and tired mood because this is the first show on tour that didn't have a huge turnout for us and we knew the day was coming soon but we were, y'know, trying to prolong the inevitable. But the energy of the people at this show... even if they were sitting down I knew they were supporting any new ideas they got, whether it was a one-man-band or whether it was ska. So today turned from something that was depressing and miserable into the most eclectic show we ever played and one of the best times I've had on tour without the help of alcohol. We celebrated by going to a supermarket and spending six dollars on food that could feed a family of 5.
12.28.2003
Virginia Beach to North Carolina... uh, South Carolina... uh, Augusta Georgia
I woke up in the morning to the delicious smell of Morningstar fake sausage links. Jenna's family gave a 5 million course breakfast which included coffee (!), homemade waffles (!!) and REAL maple syrup (!!!) to name a few things. After a while, we knew we had to head out. Today was the huge drive to Virginia Beach.
I took on the drive because I like driving. Turns out however, there was TERRIBLE traffic on the 95 in Jersey. When I say terrible, I mean a two and a half hour almost stand-still. For the first time ever I saw those advisory lights blinking on the side of the road DEMANDING we tune to 1610 AM and receive the traffic report. Of course I assumed that they are always blinking until JT said "I've never seen those things flash in my entire life! Turn to 1610! Turn off the iPod!" They suggested that we take 195 West to 295 South to the Delaware Memorial Bridge. The fact that they were broadcasting about exactly what road we were on made me extremely excited to take the detour. So excited that I am actually typing about this detour over 24 hours later. This is what I remember about our trip.
We made our rounds down the east coast. The most important stop as usual was the tobacco outlet right after the bridge in Delaware. Smokers: It is worth the trip to Delaware if you go here. Two cartons of Marlboro Blend No. 27 cost $24. That's about $1.20 per pack. Now that our van was filled with the nicotine we needed for the tour it was time to rush rush rush to the show, because we had to be there at 7:00 (!!) and it was already 3 or 4:00 (!!) and we had a long drive to go (!!not enought time!!) We stopped off to get gas somewhere in Virginia and everything was nice and cheap. I saw a pornography advertisement that said "WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH THREE EXTRA INCHES?" The picture was a woman wearing obviously too much makeup and looked like she was in her mid-40's and had been beaten by her husband about three minutes prior to snapshot time trying to cram a large penis into her mouth. Hot. Mike and Sean ordered sandwiches and apparently had to fill out online surveys to get said sandwiches. Forty five minutes later, we were forty five more minutes late to the show.
I sped as fast as I could, imagining that one of the speed-limit enforcing aircrafts would fly down in the middle of the 18 miles bridge connected one part of Virginia to Virginia Beach and stop all lanes of traffic to give me a California-style $800 speeding ticket. When we finally got to the show (traffic violation free), Dave informed me that he really didn't know what time the show ACTUALLY started, but 7:00 was a guess. We were kind of early. Thanks a lot Dave.
The show went awesomely. Sean played bass for the first time ever and I had to play guitar. That was kind of interesting because I don't know how to play the guitar really and Sean doesn't know how to play the bass really. What's more interesting is that Dave doesn't really know how to play the bass and JT doesn't know how to play the guitar, but they were pitching in on those instruments as well. Lots of people sitting at tables who I made fun of. Succeeding the show, those people bought me pitchers upon pitchers of beers and smokes because they wanted to prove that they weren't jerks. SCORE. The donation jar to fly Bove down to New Orleans to meet us went pretty well, and I think I stole a pitcher from the place, so if anyone from The Jewish Mother ever reads this, feel free to come up to Long Island and visit me and I'll give you said pitcher. The bands we played with (Bum Ruckus, Murphy's Kids and Jackmove) were all FUCKING GREAT. They are all awesome bands, it's definitely downhill from here probably because we've played with too many great ska bands at this point. KIDS: SKA EXISTS. LONG ISLAND IS FUCKING WITH YOU. Drunkenly, Eddie (bum ruckus), John (murphy's kids) and I decided to book a national tour in May with the three of our bands... an independent ska tour if you will. If that was just drunken banter, this will the last you will hear of it. If not, just you wait. I can't say the name of this tour because it is very offensive. Period. Don't ask. We'll change it. When I get back from tour I will scan the bar napkin in which I drew a map of America and the spots we plan to hit. On the map words like "Florida", "Jeremy", and "Do This When You Are Sober" are written sporadically as well as area codes for some reason.
We were going to stay at one of Jackmove's places (Sean Patrick & Melissa) except we had gotten a show today in Augusta. Oh yeah, the second that we showed up to the venue Eddie from Bum Ruckus hooked us up with 3 shows. Pretty much immediately. That's how you book a tour kids. As you go along. It was a 10 hour drive to Augusta so we couldn't stay over (fuck.) and we couldn't try and take advantage of drunk females (fuck. fuck.) and most importantly we would not be guaranteed (sic?) breakfast in the morning (fuckfuckfuckgoddammit.)
3:00 AM: Dave drives us to a gas station as we all call our close good friends trying to find out if one of them can Mapquest Virginia Beach to Augusta, Georgia.
4:00 AM: JT switches over to drive. I sit shotgun. We go until about 6:40 when we see a Motel 6 in Fayetteville, NC. Awesome. Sleep. No. No. NO.
ME: Do you have any vacancies?
MOTEL 6 AWFUL PERSON: No.
ME: I didn't see that many cars in the parking lot. You sure you don't have anything?
M6AP: No. And there's nothing in this town.
ME: What about...
M6AP: No.
ME: any other...
M6AP: No.
ME: motels nearby?
M6AP: No. They're all booked. Everyone came in tonight.
ME: Why?
M6AP: (walks away)
ME: Hey.
ME: (five minutes later) HEY! Can I have a Motel 6 directory.
M6AP: They are all booked up in North Carolina along I-95.
ME: Do you...
M6AP: No.
ME: (punches woman in the face)
7:00 AM: We wake Sean up because JT can't stay awake anymore. He was less than thrilled. He is sitting here watching me type this. I would usually say something like "he was a fuckin' pussy, fuckin' pussy can't fuckin' wake fuckin' up in the fuckin' morning." He thought that was funny. He's nodding. We walked into McDonalds with hair disheveled (sic?). Dave followed us in there and put both of our hair to shame. There was no McGriddle Value Meal posted on the big menu, but they had them. Thank god. You kids need to eat these. We agreed that Dave and Sean would take the drive all the way to Georgia so we had a motel for TWO nights. JT had already taken a bench to sleep on, I tried to cram into the floor while choking down my undigested McGriddle for about 2 hours.
9:00 AM: I eventually coerced Mike, whose suitcase had falled on top of him while he was sleeping and he looked like he was snuggling with it, to switch spots with me. Of course I sleep the only time Fugazi is being played in the van.
11:00 AM: We arrive at a Motel 6 in Georgia. This Motel 6 is used for the some golf tournament thing so it normally costs around $40. However, if we were here during one of the first few weeks in April it would be $200 A NIGHT. TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS. And let me tell you, it would be worth every penny. Nicest Motel 6 I've ever been to. MICROWAVE. INTERNET. HUGE ROOMS. DVD PLAYER. COMPUTER WITH A "G" BUTTON THAT STICKS OCCASIONALLY. JACUZZI. POOL. THE DOORS ARE ON THE INSIDE. I don't know where they get off calling this a Motel 6, but fuck it, it is awesome. We watched the Fugazi DVD and fell asleep as Sean and Dave went to Walmart to buy some cheap food that we could cook in the microwave. I woke up and masturbated in the shower. Now Sean knows.
---VAN JAMS---
TOXIC by Britney Spears
GIRL O'CLOCK by Dismemberment Plan
DOCTOR WORM by They Might Be Giants
5 TIMES OUT OF 100 by Hot Hot Heat
if you listen to these songs, it'll be like you're on tour WITH US. except you're not. You're in your fucking miserable lame house.
P.S. it was twenty degrees this morning in North Carolina. W! T! F!
I woke up in the morning to the delicious smell of Morningstar fake sausage links. Jenna's family gave a 5 million course breakfast which included coffee (!), homemade waffles (!!) and REAL maple syrup (!!!) to name a few things. After a while, we knew we had to head out. Today was the huge drive to Virginia Beach.
I took on the drive because I like driving. Turns out however, there was TERRIBLE traffic on the 95 in Jersey. When I say terrible, I mean a two and a half hour almost stand-still. For the first time ever I saw those advisory lights blinking on the side of the road DEMANDING we tune to 1610 AM and receive the traffic report. Of course I assumed that they are always blinking until JT said "I've never seen those things flash in my entire life! Turn to 1610! Turn off the iPod!" They suggested that we take 195 West to 295 South to the Delaware Memorial Bridge. The fact that they were broadcasting about exactly what road we were on made me extremely excited to take the detour. So excited that I am actually typing about this detour over 24 hours later. This is what I remember about our trip.
We made our rounds down the east coast. The most important stop as usual was the tobacco outlet right after the bridge in Delaware. Smokers: It is worth the trip to Delaware if you go here. Two cartons of Marlboro Blend No. 27 cost $24. That's about $1.20 per pack. Now that our van was filled with the nicotine we needed for the tour it was time to rush rush rush to the show, because we had to be there at 7:00 (!!) and it was already 3 or 4:00 (!!) and we had a long drive to go (!!not enought time!!) We stopped off to get gas somewhere in Virginia and everything was nice and cheap. I saw a pornography advertisement that said "WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH THREE EXTRA INCHES?" The picture was a woman wearing obviously too much makeup and looked like she was in her mid-40's and had been beaten by her husband about three minutes prior to snapshot time trying to cram a large penis into her mouth. Hot. Mike and Sean ordered sandwiches and apparently had to fill out online surveys to get said sandwiches. Forty five minutes later, we were forty five more minutes late to the show.
I sped as fast as I could, imagining that one of the speed-limit enforcing aircrafts would fly down in the middle of the 18 miles bridge connected one part of Virginia to Virginia Beach and stop all lanes of traffic to give me a California-style $800 speeding ticket. When we finally got to the show (traffic violation free), Dave informed me that he really didn't know what time the show ACTUALLY started, but 7:00 was a guess. We were kind of early. Thanks a lot Dave.
The show went awesomely. Sean played bass for the first time ever and I had to play guitar. That was kind of interesting because I don't know how to play the guitar really and Sean doesn't know how to play the bass really. What's more interesting is that Dave doesn't really know how to play the bass and JT doesn't know how to play the guitar, but they were pitching in on those instruments as well. Lots of people sitting at tables who I made fun of. Succeeding the show, those people bought me pitchers upon pitchers of beers and smokes because they wanted to prove that they weren't jerks. SCORE. The donation jar to fly Bove down to New Orleans to meet us went pretty well, and I think I stole a pitcher from the place, so if anyone from The Jewish Mother ever reads this, feel free to come up to Long Island and visit me and I'll give you said pitcher. The bands we played with (Bum Ruckus, Murphy's Kids and Jackmove) were all FUCKING GREAT. They are all awesome bands, it's definitely downhill from here probably because we've played with too many great ska bands at this point. KIDS: SKA EXISTS. LONG ISLAND IS FUCKING WITH YOU. Drunkenly, Eddie (bum ruckus), John (murphy's kids) and I decided to book a national tour in May with the three of our bands... an independent ska tour if you will. If that was just drunken banter, this will the last you will hear of it. If not, just you wait. I can't say the name of this tour because it is very offensive. Period. Don't ask. We'll change it. When I get back from tour I will scan the bar napkin in which I drew a map of America and the spots we plan to hit. On the map words like "Florida", "Jeremy", and "Do This When You Are Sober" are written sporadically as well as area codes for some reason.
We were going to stay at one of Jackmove's places (Sean Patrick & Melissa) except we had gotten a show today in Augusta. Oh yeah, the second that we showed up to the venue Eddie from Bum Ruckus hooked us up with 3 shows. Pretty much immediately. That's how you book a tour kids. As you go along. It was a 10 hour drive to Augusta so we couldn't stay over (fuck.) and we couldn't try and take advantage of drunk females (fuck. fuck.) and most importantly we would not be guaranteed (sic?) breakfast in the morning (fuckfuckfuckgoddammit.)
3:00 AM: Dave drives us to a gas station as we all call our close good friends trying to find out if one of them can Mapquest Virginia Beach to Augusta, Georgia.
4:00 AM: JT switches over to drive. I sit shotgun. We go until about 6:40 when we see a Motel 6 in Fayetteville, NC. Awesome. Sleep. No. No. NO.
ME: Do you have any vacancies?
MOTEL 6 AWFUL PERSON: No.
ME: I didn't see that many cars in the parking lot. You sure you don't have anything?
M6AP: No. And there's nothing in this town.
ME: What about...
M6AP: No.
ME: any other...
M6AP: No.
ME: motels nearby?
M6AP: No. They're all booked. Everyone came in tonight.
ME: Why?
M6AP: (walks away)
ME: Hey.
ME: (five minutes later) HEY! Can I have a Motel 6 directory.
M6AP: They are all booked up in North Carolina along I-95.
ME: Do you...
M6AP: No.
ME: (punches woman in the face)
7:00 AM: We wake Sean up because JT can't stay awake anymore. He was less than thrilled. He is sitting here watching me type this. I would usually say something like "he was a fuckin' pussy, fuckin' pussy can't fuckin' wake fuckin' up in the fuckin' morning." He thought that was funny. He's nodding. We walked into McDonalds with hair disheveled (sic?). Dave followed us in there and put both of our hair to shame. There was no McGriddle Value Meal posted on the big menu, but they had them. Thank god. You kids need to eat these. We agreed that Dave and Sean would take the drive all the way to Georgia so we had a motel for TWO nights. JT had already taken a bench to sleep on, I tried to cram into the floor while choking down my undigested McGriddle for about 2 hours.
9:00 AM: I eventually coerced Mike, whose suitcase had falled on top of him while he was sleeping and he looked like he was snuggling with it, to switch spots with me. Of course I sleep the only time Fugazi is being played in the van.
11:00 AM: We arrive at a Motel 6 in Georgia. This Motel 6 is used for the some golf tournament thing so it normally costs around $40. However, if we were here during one of the first few weeks in April it would be $200 A NIGHT. TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS. And let me tell you, it would be worth every penny. Nicest Motel 6 I've ever been to. MICROWAVE. INTERNET. HUGE ROOMS. DVD PLAYER. COMPUTER WITH A "G" BUTTON THAT STICKS OCCASIONALLY. JACUZZI. POOL. THE DOORS ARE ON THE INSIDE. I don't know where they get off calling this a Motel 6, but fuck it, it is awesome. We watched the Fugazi DVD and fell asleep as Sean and Dave went to Walmart to buy some cheap food that we could cook in the microwave. I woke up and masturbated in the shower. Now Sean knows.
---VAN JAMS---
TOXIC by Britney Spears
GIRL O'CLOCK by Dismemberment Plan
DOCTOR WORM by They Might Be Giants
5 TIMES OUT OF 100 by Hot Hot Heat
if you listen to these songs, it'll be like you're on tour WITH US. except you're not. You're in your fucking miserable lame house.
P.S. it was twenty degrees this morning in North Carolina. W! T! F!
12.27.2003
New Jersey
MATH PROBLEM ATTACK:
Q: How does one fit the following in the back of a van without spilling over into the seats so the whole band can travel comfortably. Note: YOU DO NOT HAVE A TRAILER
2 4 x 12 guitar cabinets
1 Marshall Head
1 Fender Head
1 SKB Bass Head
1 4 x 10 Bass Cabinet
1 15" Woofer Cabinet
1 Kick Drum
1 Floor Tom
2 Rack Toms
1 Snare Drum
1 100 pound bag of hardware
7 Cymbals
4 electric guitars
1 bass guitar
1 acoustic guitar
1 glockenspiel
1 saxophone
1 trombone
1 large merch bin
2 medium sized merch bins
1 small merch bin
5 suitcases
5 carry-on bags
4 cord bags
1 guitar rack
1 keyboard
1 keyboard stand
1 saxophone stand
A: Be Dave Dickerman
We loaded up our van today and the guys in Westbound Train looked at us with grimaces, stating "fuck. I'm gonna go hang out in the couch that's in the back of our van. Get a trailer." Flash back to earlier in the day when it took me a record two hours to do a house-wide idiot check to find later on the road that the only thing I forgot were earplugs and Sheldon's dismemberment plan CD. Sheldon came into the van and was all of a sudden sponsored by Marlboro cigarettes, sporting their bag, sleeping bag, calling card and special Marlboro brand Camel cigarettes. When I went into JT's house he was eating a bowl of pasta and just saying "Fuck it. Let's just go. I don't need anything else. Forget it. Forget it." Mike and Bove travelled separately, but I imagine they also did things earlier in the day. We had a heartwarming and upsetting goodbye to Bove for the next couple of days on tour because he is still sick (we love you and miss you Bove) and a much calmer goodbye to Sean McCabe who is going home because he sucks. Members of the band have been claiming that I am coming down with a case of pink eye on the first day of the tour. We also made the mistake of driving through the EZ Pass lane when the cash lane shut down today while driving into Jersey. Oh crap.
But fuck all that shit, or F all that S as the kids who abbreviate Arrogant Sons of Bitches so as not to swear would say. Today was the best tour kick-off I could have possibly imagined. All the nerves are totally gone and I am very much looking forward to starving for the next month while playing rock shows to four people. Tonight was the exception. There were tons of kids there to support us, and it was a great feeling to know that you're leaving your area with love.
Speaking of love, a few friends of ours threw us a little surprise party at our merch table. There were donuts (!), cake (!!) and PICKLES (!!!) to be eaten by all not to mention nachos, salsa and other snacks and water. Soon enough we were no longer selling merchandise but we were having a feast over our mailing list, giving people the stink eye when they requested to buy something, non-verbally exclaiming "you fuckers! this is our last chance to eat! let us enjoy it!". This was just a normal Jersey show which was a lot of fun but pretty strange because it is the beginning of so much weirdness that will soon happen. When Dave pulled up to my house this afternoon blasting Neil Diamond, I already began to know that this trip is going to be very interesting.
Nothing too crazy tonight though. Our tetris-style van packing job will hopefully hold out... Sheldon (new guitar, new name) should have brought some more clothes with him but I'm sure he'll realize that soon. Tonight was a great normal time and we are about to eat some eggplant upstairs at our friend's place, so I'm going to go enjoy my last supper. As always, stay in touch with us, via the message board and through our emails (i am jeff@asobrock.com). My ass isn't bleeding yet, but we've got plenty of time. Tomorrow is our huge drive to Virginia which I just found out today is a huge drive.
Thank you all our friends who are helping us out: Jenna, Liz, Jessica and Ami for being so awesome and sending us on the road with food in our stomach and a nice place to stay. Let's hope food stays there and we wake up tomorrow! P.S. I tried a new SALAD DRESSING TONIGHT!
MATH PROBLEM ATTACK:
Q: How does one fit the following in the back of a van without spilling over into the seats so the whole band can travel comfortably. Note: YOU DO NOT HAVE A TRAILER
2 4 x 12 guitar cabinets
1 Marshall Head
1 Fender Head
1 SKB Bass Head
1 4 x 10 Bass Cabinet
1 15" Woofer Cabinet
1 Kick Drum
1 Floor Tom
2 Rack Toms
1 Snare Drum
1 100 pound bag of hardware
7 Cymbals
4 electric guitars
1 bass guitar
1 acoustic guitar
1 glockenspiel
1 saxophone
1 trombone
1 large merch bin
2 medium sized merch bins
1 small merch bin
5 suitcases
5 carry-on bags
4 cord bags
1 guitar rack
1 keyboard
1 keyboard stand
1 saxophone stand
A: Be Dave Dickerman
We loaded up our van today and the guys in Westbound Train looked at us with grimaces, stating "fuck. I'm gonna go hang out in the couch that's in the back of our van. Get a trailer." Flash back to earlier in the day when it took me a record two hours to do a house-wide idiot check to find later on the road that the only thing I forgot were earplugs and Sheldon's dismemberment plan CD. Sheldon came into the van and was all of a sudden sponsored by Marlboro cigarettes, sporting their bag, sleeping bag, calling card and special Marlboro brand Camel cigarettes. When I went into JT's house he was eating a bowl of pasta and just saying "Fuck it. Let's just go. I don't need anything else. Forget it. Forget it." Mike and Bove travelled separately, but I imagine they also did things earlier in the day. We had a heartwarming and upsetting goodbye to Bove for the next couple of days on tour because he is still sick (we love you and miss you Bove) and a much calmer goodbye to Sean McCabe who is going home because he sucks. Members of the band have been claiming that I am coming down with a case of pink eye on the first day of the tour. We also made the mistake of driving through the EZ Pass lane when the cash lane shut down today while driving into Jersey. Oh crap.
But fuck all that shit, or F all that S as the kids who abbreviate Arrogant Sons of Bitches so as not to swear would say. Today was the best tour kick-off I could have possibly imagined. All the nerves are totally gone and I am very much looking forward to starving for the next month while playing rock shows to four people. Tonight was the exception. There were tons of kids there to support us, and it was a great feeling to know that you're leaving your area with love.
Speaking of love, a few friends of ours threw us a little surprise party at our merch table. There were donuts (!), cake (!!) and PICKLES (!!!) to be eaten by all not to mention nachos, salsa and other snacks and water. Soon enough we were no longer selling merchandise but we were having a feast over our mailing list, giving people the stink eye when they requested to buy something, non-verbally exclaiming "you fuckers! this is our last chance to eat! let us enjoy it!". This was just a normal Jersey show which was a lot of fun but pretty strange because it is the beginning of so much weirdness that will soon happen. When Dave pulled up to my house this afternoon blasting Neil Diamond, I already began to know that this trip is going to be very interesting.
Nothing too crazy tonight though. Our tetris-style van packing job will hopefully hold out... Sheldon (new guitar, new name) should have brought some more clothes with him but I'm sure he'll realize that soon. Tonight was a great normal time and we are about to eat some eggplant upstairs at our friend's place, so I'm going to go enjoy my last supper. As always, stay in touch with us, via the message board and through our emails (i am jeff@asobrock.com). My ass isn't bleeding yet, but we've got plenty of time. Tomorrow is our huge drive to Virginia which I just found out today is a huge drive.
Thank you all our friends who are helping us out: Jenna, Liz, Jessica and Ami for being so awesome and sending us on the road with food in our stomach and a nice place to stay. Let's hope food stays there and we wake up tomorrow! P.S. I tried a new SALAD DRESSING TONIGHT!
12.26.2003
Long Island
I have been pacing back and forth and up and down stairs for about ten hours in my house now. We won't have a computer in our van but I will try and find kind people who can let me steal their computer so I can keep this up this time.
Pacing back and forth.
Leaving for a month.
Don't know what I am going to eat for that month.
Don't really know where I'm going for that month.
I've got my afro-sheen.
I've got my Dr. Scholls products.
I've got lots of Vitamin C.
and enough socks and underwear to clothe a small army.
Nothing left to do now, but just leave. This is the weirdest part of tour. It's kind of the line going onto the rollercoaster. There's still time to back out if you're a pussy, but you know that it's going to be fun as shit. Except this is going to last a lot longer and I'm sure more people will die.
Long Island. This is it. See ya in January.
I have been pacing back and forth and up and down stairs for about ten hours in my house now. We won't have a computer in our van but I will try and find kind people who can let me steal their computer so I can keep this up this time.
Pacing back and forth.
Leaving for a month.
Don't know what I am going to eat for that month.
Don't really know where I'm going for that month.
I've got my afro-sheen.
I've got my Dr. Scholls products.
I've got lots of Vitamin C.
and enough socks and underwear to clothe a small army.
Nothing left to do now, but just leave. This is the weirdest part of tour. It's kind of the line going onto the rollercoaster. There's still time to back out if you're a pussy, but you know that it's going to be fun as shit. Except this is going to last a lot longer and I'm sure more people will die.
Long Island. This is it. See ya in January.
11.23.2003
Garfield, NJ
I am drunk, I'll be honest. But this is all true:
I LOVE EVERYONE WHO CAME TO THE SHOWS THIS WEEKEND THEY WERE FUCKING INCREDIBLE I WAS KINDA BUMMED OUT ABOUT SHITTY SHOWS FOR A WHILE BUT ALL THE PROMOTERS THAT WE'VE DEALT WITH THIS PAST WEEK WERE FUCKING AWESOME AND I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR COMING TO THE SHOWS AND SUPPORTING US.
Today was our first headlining gig in Jersey. And kids stuck around. And some knew the words. I could cry if the water in my body wasn't a huge part alcohol right now.
fuck a duck.
I am drunk, I'll be honest. But this is all true:
I LOVE EVERYONE WHO CAME TO THE SHOWS THIS WEEKEND THEY WERE FUCKING INCREDIBLE I WAS KINDA BUMMED OUT ABOUT SHITTY SHOWS FOR A WHILE BUT ALL THE PROMOTERS THAT WE'VE DEALT WITH THIS PAST WEEK WERE FUCKING AWESOME AND I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR COMING TO THE SHOWS AND SUPPORTING US.
Today was our first headlining gig in Jersey. And kids stuck around. And some knew the words. I could cry if the water in my body wasn't a huge part alcohol right now.
fuck a duck.
11.22.2003
Mohegan Lake, NY
Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Got home from the show a while ago, and it was nice to watch that episode of 24 that Julee had taped for me on Tuesday. Alright, so once again there's not much to say about this show. I got home, almost an hour later we left, we played and it was just a fucking great great time. Then we got to see Big D again and they're still fucking amazing live. Nothing funny here, but the shitty shitty tour diary must LIVE.
Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Got home from the show a while ago, and it was nice to watch that episode of 24 that Julee had taped for me on Tuesday. Alright, so once again there's not much to say about this show. I got home, almost an hour later we left, we played and it was just a fucking great great time. Then we got to see Big D again and they're still fucking amazing live. Nothing funny here, but the shitty shitty tour diary must LIVE.
11.19.2003
West Hartford, CT
Everything for this show ran pretty smoothly, which means there's not a whole lot of interesting stories to tell. Here's a few uninteresting ones:
- I walked into the room with Christine, a friend of mine from Oneonta and somehow every cool kid I know from shows was there and I was immediately greeted by like 20 people with giant hugs. Right after that, I was handed a wad of cash by someone else. I totally got laid (by myself) after looking so cool.
- JT drank way too much. He shouted "I'm a rich jew" about a thousand times from the stage. There really is no description of how drunk JT was, you would have to be there to visualize it. It was bad enough that we had to put him on alcohol probation for a month.
- A bunch of our friends from Oneonta came up and John (our old old guitar player) was one of them. He stole a lot of cheeseburgers from the dining hall and then found out that Julee was cool enough to give us this food for free, so he ate more cheeseburgers. John is on a diet. Lame.
- Julee Motte officially wins as best promoter ever, despite the fact that she ripped up the Rebels' contract accidentally. She not only fed and paid all of us, but she also videotaped 24 for me so I didn't have to miss it (unfortunately it's in the van which is on long island so i have to wait til fucking friday to watch it). Have one of your shows run by this chick and you'll never feel quite right about playing anywhere else. Congrats Julee as one of very few promoters who does not fuck over bands.
- The River City Rebels have been getting better and better since two days ago, and they show no signs of slowing down. As is like the Rebels, they started making fun of us, but after what will remain unspoken for reasons undefined, the best they could come up with was that JT had a beard. I couldn't tell whether I should be relieved or disappointed. I chose hungry.
- Our friend John walked on his knees. It was pretty crazy. Oh yeah, we found out that Blind Luck Music is finally fucking back on tour. Go see them if they're in your area, bunch of swell guys. That's really all the stuff I feel like talking about.
Everything for this show ran pretty smoothly, which means there's not a whole lot of interesting stories to tell. Here's a few uninteresting ones:
- I walked into the room with Christine, a friend of mine from Oneonta and somehow every cool kid I know from shows was there and I was immediately greeted by like 20 people with giant hugs. Right after that, I was handed a wad of cash by someone else. I totally got laid (by myself) after looking so cool.
- JT drank way too much. He shouted "I'm a rich jew" about a thousand times from the stage. There really is no description of how drunk JT was, you would have to be there to visualize it. It was bad enough that we had to put him on alcohol probation for a month.
- A bunch of our friends from Oneonta came up and John (our old old guitar player) was one of them. He stole a lot of cheeseburgers from the dining hall and then found out that Julee was cool enough to give us this food for free, so he ate more cheeseburgers. John is on a diet. Lame.
- Julee Motte officially wins as best promoter ever, despite the fact that she ripped up the Rebels' contract accidentally. She not only fed and paid all of us, but she also videotaped 24 for me so I didn't have to miss it (unfortunately it's in the van which is on long island so i have to wait til fucking friday to watch it). Have one of your shows run by this chick and you'll never feel quite right about playing anywhere else. Congrats Julee as one of very few promoters who does not fuck over bands.
- The River City Rebels have been getting better and better since two days ago, and they show no signs of slowing down. As is like the Rebels, they started making fun of us, but after what will remain unspoken for reasons undefined, the best they could come up with was that JT had a beard. I couldn't tell whether I should be relieved or disappointed. I chose hungry.
- Our friend John walked on his knees. It was pretty crazy. Oh yeah, we found out that Blind Luck Music is finally fucking back on tour. Go see them if they're in your area, bunch of swell guys. That's really all the stuff I feel like talking about.
11.17.2003
Philadelphia... no... Upper Darby, PA
Fuck. Early call today. I was supposed to wake up and buy a coat. I really wish I had bought a coat instead. I also almost typed "bought a goat". I really wish I typed "bought a goat" instead. fuckin' fuckin', uh, uh, uh, fuckin'...
Practiced til 1 last night playing 1990's alternarock for about 3 hours at the end... it was big fun.
1:00 - Practice Studio
2:00 - Burger King
2:10 - Belt Parkway
3:40 - Belt Parkway
3:10 - Belt Parkway
3:40 - Belt Parkway
4:30 - Belt Parkway
We watched it turn from daylight to nighttime in... the... same... fucking... spot. For hours. After having another unsuccessful drive through my dreaded bastard neighbor, New Jersey, with an iPod full of 1400 songs on random, I developed the Jeff Rosenstock drinking game.
Every time I miss an exit - drink a shot
Every time Dillinger Four comes on - drink two shots
Every time Jeff panics about getting lost - drink a shot
Every time Jeff says "dude, check out this part!" - drink three shots
Every time "Jack the Lion" by Harvey Danger comes on - finish the bottle
This is all the bullshit unimportant introduction to make this look more like a tour journal entry than a fucking diatribe about the show tonight. This show was kind of the reason why I don't know how we can do shows without a booking agent and not get fucked over. The Repercussions got fucked. River City Rebels got fucked. We got fucked.
Picture this: There is a kid who booked the show. River City Rebels were guaranteed X amount of dollars. ASOB were guaranteed 200 dollars. Other bands were promised the gas money they spent to get out. "I'll take it out of my own pocket" was claimed by the promoter. When we showed up about three hours late we found out that our six band show turned into a FIFTEEN band show. No big deal. We'll go on later. We were kind of bummed... but, y'know... we would deal with it.
Note: the other bands were METAL bands. Metalheads and punks apparently don't go together. And this wasn't a show filled with punk rock kids, there were like PUNX! I was sitting at a makeshift merch table when all of a sudden Sean said "Hey, that was awesome. Someone just tore the confederate flag off that bass player's amplifier." I thought "Good for the fucking punk rock kids."
THEN... HUGE FIGHT BREAKS OUT. All the punks and metalheads rush towards each other and start punching punching punching punching... everyone there seems like a fucking idiot and tries to break up the fight by yelling. All the PUNX! were thrown out including the promoter. Or who we thought the promoter was... I don't even fucking know. Rylan from the Rebels looks over at me, after waiting about 8 hours and waking up at 5:00 AM and says "fuck. looks like we're not playing."
Rylan and I start talking to the people who were booking the metal show.
IDIOT: They started a fight
RYLAN: Well, they hung the confederate flag. That offends some people.
IDIOT: There's only ONE black guy here.
JEFF: He paid to get in like anyone else.
RYLAN: I mean, look at the results. Who won the war? The north.
IDIOT: Yeah, but it's not about the Civil War. It's about abolishing slavery. My friend hangs the rebel flag on his lawn.
RYLAN: That doesn't have anything to do with how we get paid, but he's no friend of mine.
We go around for literally hours. Apparently the promoter NEVER said he was having all the nationals. Our crayoned contract with him didn't mean shit because all contracts were null and void. The new people in charge of the show said that they would have never suggested that our bands come play and expect this money. Fucking lot of good that does us now. The Rebels play and say "don't support this place." While I'm in the bathroom with the promoter I say "that's their shtick. Don't take it out on them." The amount of fucking fights that people were trying tonight made me sick to my fucking stomach. It made me so mad that I wanted to shove everyone in a small room together and let them argue and punch each other until they were all fucking dead. The fighting would not solve any fucking problems, it would just let idiots get out their aggression on each other. Y'know, fuck somebody up. Fuck that. Seriously, fuck that. I hate it when people fight to pretend to solve their fucking problems, based on STRENGTH MUSCLE YEAH YEAH YEAH fuck that shit, blow me, go join a boxing league or something.
Regardless, RCR had to get home because they had 6 hours to drive and we watching fucking metal all day, but we agreed to handle their money situation which ended up being SEVENTY DOLLARS to split between the fucking two of us. We were GRACIOUS and blah blah blah blah but fucking, come on. 70 FUCKING DOLLARS? Our guarantee was 200. That's how much we needed. RCR asked for X (which is obviously more because they have more expenses to pay for (the trailer. the nationally released albums)), and what they offered us didn't even cover HALF of us. Money money money money? Yeah, well, think of how much we all fucking spent to get to this show. This show where no one cared to pay the bands, and the locals were not looking out for the nationals so much it was ridiculous.
And I wish I could remember name of this band because they were such goddamn assholes. We were using RCR's equipment. I have their fucking guitar amp in my van right now. But no, this band The Sleepover or whatever the fuck their lame ass metal name was... they were almost in tears over when they would play. "NO!!! I, I, I, I HAVE TO GO ON NOW." When thirty year olds are complaining about their time slots, you know something's wrong. They threatened to not play. Well, if they didn't play their 45 minute set where they played like 5 ten minute songs with our microphones, well, fucking awesome.
ANYBLAHBLAH, outside, this punk rock girl was getting into a fist fight with the promoter. SCREEEEAMING. SO LOUD. The cops were called because they must have thought that there was a real fight, and there was. Every so often, someoone would say to me "let's fucking bash his fucking face in! yeah!" I had an argument with a screaming PUNX girl who is actually pretty cool and saw us last time. I told her how punk rock is bullshit. That we all need money to get where we need to go, and that time slots shouldn't matter if all you want to do is fucking play. We were gonna play regardless, which is probably dumb, but I think it was the right thing to do and it was fucking fun.
So fuck these metal bands that act like assholes and say they refuse to play. When we hit we were all in love with rock and roll for a half an hour. It ended. The Repercussions didn't play. We loaded up and I realized I had blood on my shirt. Some girl came up to me and asked if I called her a "whore' and said "I don't think so" she said "when you were staring at me" i said "i don't know but thank you for letting me stare at you" then her BOYFRIEND came up and gave me a little shove and said "maybe when you start respecting women, men will start to respect you."
FUCK THAT GUY. I am so sick of everyone at these fucking shows. I was so thankful for the solace that our fans provided at this show because it prevented me from fucking killing myself and saying "fuck this band. let's all go have real jobs instead." But our fans and freinds were extremely nice and made us feel at home even though we were far away in racist land when confederate flags are ok because they're just arguing the issue of abolishing slavery.
We heard about 4 dillinger four songs on the way home. I didn't get lost.
I am drunk.
Fuck. Early call today. I was supposed to wake up and buy a coat. I really wish I had bought a coat instead. I also almost typed "bought a goat". I really wish I typed "bought a goat" instead. fuckin' fuckin', uh, uh, uh, fuckin'...
Practiced til 1 last night playing 1990's alternarock for about 3 hours at the end... it was big fun.
1:00 - Practice Studio
2:00 - Burger King
2:10 - Belt Parkway
3:40 - Belt Parkway
3:10 - Belt Parkway
3:40 - Belt Parkway
4:30 - Belt Parkway
We watched it turn from daylight to nighttime in... the... same... fucking... spot. For hours. After having another unsuccessful drive through my dreaded bastard neighbor, New Jersey, with an iPod full of 1400 songs on random, I developed the Jeff Rosenstock drinking game.
Every time I miss an exit - drink a shot
Every time Dillinger Four comes on - drink two shots
Every time Jeff panics about getting lost - drink a shot
Every time Jeff says "dude, check out this part!" - drink three shots
Every time "Jack the Lion" by Harvey Danger comes on - finish the bottle
This is all the bullshit unimportant introduction to make this look more like a tour journal entry than a fucking diatribe about the show tonight. This show was kind of the reason why I don't know how we can do shows without a booking agent and not get fucked over. The Repercussions got fucked. River City Rebels got fucked. We got fucked.
Picture this: There is a kid who booked the show. River City Rebels were guaranteed X amount of dollars. ASOB were guaranteed 200 dollars. Other bands were promised the gas money they spent to get out. "I'll take it out of my own pocket" was claimed by the promoter. When we showed up about three hours late we found out that our six band show turned into a FIFTEEN band show. No big deal. We'll go on later. We were kind of bummed... but, y'know... we would deal with it.
Note: the other bands were METAL bands. Metalheads and punks apparently don't go together. And this wasn't a show filled with punk rock kids, there were like PUNX! I was sitting at a makeshift merch table when all of a sudden Sean said "Hey, that was awesome. Someone just tore the confederate flag off that bass player's amplifier." I thought "Good for the fucking punk rock kids."
THEN... HUGE FIGHT BREAKS OUT. All the punks and metalheads rush towards each other and start punching punching punching punching... everyone there seems like a fucking idiot and tries to break up the fight by yelling. All the PUNX! were thrown out including the promoter. Or who we thought the promoter was... I don't even fucking know. Rylan from the Rebels looks over at me, after waiting about 8 hours and waking up at 5:00 AM and says "fuck. looks like we're not playing."
Rylan and I start talking to the people who were booking the metal show.
IDIOT: They started a fight
RYLAN: Well, they hung the confederate flag. That offends some people.
IDIOT: There's only ONE black guy here.
JEFF: He paid to get in like anyone else.
RYLAN: I mean, look at the results. Who won the war? The north.
IDIOT: Yeah, but it's not about the Civil War. It's about abolishing slavery. My friend hangs the rebel flag on his lawn.
RYLAN: That doesn't have anything to do with how we get paid, but he's no friend of mine.
We go around for literally hours. Apparently the promoter NEVER said he was having all the nationals. Our crayoned contract with him didn't mean shit because all contracts were null and void. The new people in charge of the show said that they would have never suggested that our bands come play and expect this money. Fucking lot of good that does us now. The Rebels play and say "don't support this place." While I'm in the bathroom with the promoter I say "that's their shtick. Don't take it out on them." The amount of fucking fights that people were trying tonight made me sick to my fucking stomach. It made me so mad that I wanted to shove everyone in a small room together and let them argue and punch each other until they were all fucking dead. The fighting would not solve any fucking problems, it would just let idiots get out their aggression on each other. Y'know, fuck somebody up. Fuck that. Seriously, fuck that. I hate it when people fight to pretend to solve their fucking problems, based on STRENGTH MUSCLE YEAH YEAH YEAH fuck that shit, blow me, go join a boxing league or something.
Regardless, RCR had to get home because they had 6 hours to drive and we watching fucking metal all day, but we agreed to handle their money situation which ended up being SEVENTY DOLLARS to split between the fucking two of us. We were GRACIOUS and blah blah blah blah but fucking, come on. 70 FUCKING DOLLARS? Our guarantee was 200. That's how much we needed. RCR asked for X (which is obviously more because they have more expenses to pay for (the trailer. the nationally released albums)), and what they offered us didn't even cover HALF of us. Money money money money? Yeah, well, think of how much we all fucking spent to get to this show. This show where no one cared to pay the bands, and the locals were not looking out for the nationals so much it was ridiculous.
And I wish I could remember name of this band because they were such goddamn assholes. We were using RCR's equipment. I have their fucking guitar amp in my van right now. But no, this band The Sleepover or whatever the fuck their lame ass metal name was... they were almost in tears over when they would play. "NO!!! I, I, I, I HAVE TO GO ON NOW." When thirty year olds are complaining about their time slots, you know something's wrong. They threatened to not play. Well, if they didn't play their 45 minute set where they played like 5 ten minute songs with our microphones, well, fucking awesome.
ANYBLAHBLAH, outside, this punk rock girl was getting into a fist fight with the promoter. SCREEEEAMING. SO LOUD. The cops were called because they must have thought that there was a real fight, and there was. Every so often, someoone would say to me "let's fucking bash his fucking face in! yeah!" I had an argument with a screaming PUNX girl who is actually pretty cool and saw us last time. I told her how punk rock is bullshit. That we all need money to get where we need to go, and that time slots shouldn't matter if all you want to do is fucking play. We were gonna play regardless, which is probably dumb, but I think it was the right thing to do and it was fucking fun.
So fuck these metal bands that act like assholes and say they refuse to play. When we hit we were all in love with rock and roll for a half an hour. It ended. The Repercussions didn't play. We loaded up and I realized I had blood on my shirt. Some girl came up to me and asked if I called her a "whore' and said "I don't think so" she said "when you were staring at me" i said "i don't know but thank you for letting me stare at you" then her BOYFRIEND came up and gave me a little shove and said "maybe when you start respecting women, men will start to respect you."
FUCK THAT GUY. I am so sick of everyone at these fucking shows. I was so thankful for the solace that our fans provided at this show because it prevented me from fucking killing myself and saying "fuck this band. let's all go have real jobs instead." But our fans and freinds were extremely nice and made us feel at home even though we were far away in racist land when confederate flags are ok because they're just arguing the issue of abolishing slavery.
We heard about 4 dillinger four songs on the way home. I didn't get lost.
I am drunk.
7.16.2003
TOUR 2 GO GO GO!
Let me tell you what isn’t going to be interesting: reading this tour diary entry. We have been driving for about 18 hours and we should be driving for 14 more after this. Reading about someone driving is not very interesting.
So let’s start out with leaving for tour. Let’s start out with VAN CALL. Van call today was at 10:00 so we could leave around 10:00/11:00… Math and I ran around all day to try and get our van and trailer all set, and the people at U-Haul were really cool. Anyway… van call was 10:00… apparently not everyone knew that, but that is cool because we called everyone up earlier on in the day and let them know. We left for tour at about 2:30 and got off of Long Island at about 3:30 AM.
Then it came time to drive. I just started typing shit out and I realized how fucking boring it is to read who’s been driving where. Here’s some things that happened.
- I drove for almost eleven hours while everyone was sleeping. Joe stayed up for two hours.
- I got yet another Waffle House name tag. It was from Theresa. She was a lot nicer than Cierra.
That’s like… That’s about it. We’re still driving. Right now we’re in Tennessee. Maybe one of these days I’ll have something more interesting to say. Well, at least here’s a list of states that we’ve been in.
New york
New jersey
Connecticut
Pennsylvania
New Hampshire
Maine
Maryland
Delaware
Virginia
West Virginia
North Carolina
South Carolina
Georgia
Alabama
Florida
Mississippi
Louisiana
Texas
New mexico
Arizona
California
Nevada
Idaho
Montana
Wyoming
Utah
Colorado
Kansas
Missouri
Ohio
Indiana
Illinois
Kentucky
Minnesota
Wisconsin
Tennessee
YEAH!
Let me tell you what isn’t going to be interesting: reading this tour diary entry. We have been driving for about 18 hours and we should be driving for 14 more after this. Reading about someone driving is not very interesting.
So let’s start out with leaving for tour. Let’s start out with VAN CALL. Van call today was at 10:00 so we could leave around 10:00/11:00… Math and I ran around all day to try and get our van and trailer all set, and the people at U-Haul were really cool. Anyway… van call was 10:00… apparently not everyone knew that, but that is cool because we called everyone up earlier on in the day and let them know. We left for tour at about 2:30 and got off of Long Island at about 3:30 AM.
Then it came time to drive. I just started typing shit out and I realized how fucking boring it is to read who’s been driving where. Here’s some things that happened.
- I drove for almost eleven hours while everyone was sleeping. Joe stayed up for two hours.
- I got yet another Waffle House name tag. It was from Theresa. She was a lot nicer than Cierra.
That’s like… That’s about it. We’re still driving. Right now we’re in Tennessee. Maybe one of these days I’ll have something more interesting to say. Well, at least here’s a list of states that we’ve been in.
New york
New jersey
Connecticut
Pennsylvania
New Hampshire
Maine
Maryland
Delaware
Virginia
West Virginia
North Carolina
South Carolina
Georgia
Alabama
Florida
Mississippi
Louisiana
Texas
New mexico
Arizona
California
Nevada
Idaho
Montana
Wyoming
Utah
Colorado
Kansas
Missouri
Ohio
Indiana
Illinois
Kentucky
Minnesota
Wisconsin
Tennessee
YEAH!
7.02.2003
Akron-ish, Ohio
one more entry.
type it all out just one more time.
you're almost at the finish line buddy.
take one more sip of powerade and just go for it.
we woke up fashionably late and showered for an uncharacteristically short amount of time before we got out of the hotel to get some food. Saw Letterkills in the parking lot last night and as of right now I already miss the nice friends we made on the Warped Tour and hope they will still make out with us when we join back up again.
we had the breakfast of a lifetime. the omlettes were the size of giant omlettes. most importantly, jt got the ball rolling at breakfast by admitting how many cigarettes (packs, singles, et cetera) he stole from the rest of us. other secrets continued to get revealed, such as the whereabouts of dave's all american rejects cd (bove threw it out the window, even though i could swear i saw jt do it) and who broke what, who fucked who, yadda yadda yadda, we paid the check and got the fuck on the fucking road.
i drove like a champ. we would get there almost on time if i drove over 72 the whole way which is a piece of cake... we'd get there at 8:30, 9, get on, play and celebrate over our last show of the first leg of tour. we had the cigars and everything. too bad we all forgot to account for the time zone change from chicago to akron. bummer. eventually i got us from some rest stop 2 and a half hours away from akron to akron in and hour and 45 minutes.
it didn't matter. the bands had already played when we were about 30 minutes away in traffic. we tried our hardest and there were still some kids there when we went on. ready for our last show, we did what any professional band with good intentions and work ethic would do. We totally SUCKED. not on purpose sucked... we played, and it was terrible. it brought a smile to my face that our odd tour of headlining our first show for 400+ kids on a weeknight, two weeks on the warped tour and higher than expected CD sales could end brightly on the note resonated by the shows that got cancelled on us. by the shows that were bar shows that no one showed up to. by what felt like 5 days off in florida and california. by the parking lot shows. this show represented our start, where everything didn't exactly go right, but we had fun anyway. it checked us away from that bitchy primadonna "if its not for 1,000 kids its not worth it" mentality and said "hey, you still play for the kids, not the fucking festivals." i enjoyed it.
more stuff? ok, but this is it for a while...
- lady at the taco bell was a total bitch.
- someone threw the handtruck on top of math's head.
- hung out with jess (promoter) and her friends and scared them with our stories of the subway booth.
- evil fog as i drove home lasted for about 150 miles.
- an opaque windshield.
- waking up to jt throwing up violently outside of the van.
i finally woke up again to jt saying "hey, no one else can drive, its your turn." i said "fuck you" and went back to sleep. he then played trumpet in my ear, i woke up and saw that i was at my house. wow. we fucking made it. and i had a pool now. as we were loading out, proving that nothing changes, dave bitched about his shoe being missing for about 90 minutes and bove bitched about no one wanting to drive him home for about 89 minutes. i ran into my house to take care of post-tour work that i have yet to take care of.
that's it.
read this entire thing. enjoy it. check out the names that i dropped, because they're all incredibly nice helpful bands/people/organizations.
and that's that.
one more entry.
type it all out just one more time.
you're almost at the finish line buddy.
take one more sip of powerade and just go for it.
we woke up fashionably late and showered for an uncharacteristically short amount of time before we got out of the hotel to get some food. Saw Letterkills in the parking lot last night and as of right now I already miss the nice friends we made on the Warped Tour and hope they will still make out with us when we join back up again.
we had the breakfast of a lifetime. the omlettes were the size of giant omlettes. most importantly, jt got the ball rolling at breakfast by admitting how many cigarettes (packs, singles, et cetera) he stole from the rest of us. other secrets continued to get revealed, such as the whereabouts of dave's all american rejects cd (bove threw it out the window, even though i could swear i saw jt do it) and who broke what, who fucked who, yadda yadda yadda, we paid the check and got the fuck on the fucking road.
i drove like a champ. we would get there almost on time if i drove over 72 the whole way which is a piece of cake... we'd get there at 8:30, 9, get on, play and celebrate over our last show of the first leg of tour. we had the cigars and everything. too bad we all forgot to account for the time zone change from chicago to akron. bummer. eventually i got us from some rest stop 2 and a half hours away from akron to akron in and hour and 45 minutes.
it didn't matter. the bands had already played when we were about 30 minutes away in traffic. we tried our hardest and there were still some kids there when we went on. ready for our last show, we did what any professional band with good intentions and work ethic would do. We totally SUCKED. not on purpose sucked... we played, and it was terrible. it brought a smile to my face that our odd tour of headlining our first show for 400+ kids on a weeknight, two weeks on the warped tour and higher than expected CD sales could end brightly on the note resonated by the shows that got cancelled on us. by the shows that were bar shows that no one showed up to. by what felt like 5 days off in florida and california. by the parking lot shows. this show represented our start, where everything didn't exactly go right, but we had fun anyway. it checked us away from that bitchy primadonna "if its not for 1,000 kids its not worth it" mentality and said "hey, you still play for the kids, not the fucking festivals." i enjoyed it.
more stuff? ok, but this is it for a while...
- lady at the taco bell was a total bitch.
- someone threw the handtruck on top of math's head.
- hung out with jess (promoter) and her friends and scared them with our stories of the subway booth.
- evil fog as i drove home lasted for about 150 miles.
- an opaque windshield.
- waking up to jt throwing up violently outside of the van.
i finally woke up again to jt saying "hey, no one else can drive, its your turn." i said "fuck you" and went back to sleep. he then played trumpet in my ear, i woke up and saw that i was at my house. wow. we fucking made it. and i had a pool now. as we were loading out, proving that nothing changes, dave bitched about his shoe being missing for about 90 minutes and bove bitched about no one wanting to drive him home for about 89 minutes. i ran into my house to take care of post-tour work that i have yet to take care of.
that's it.
read this entire thing. enjoy it. check out the names that i dropped, because they're all incredibly nice helpful bands/people/organizations.
and that's that.
6.30.2003
Chicago
So last night, I got forced to drive. I drove for four or five hours while I was about to fall asleep, doing about 85 when there was roughly four inches of visibility. We were meeting with our friends at a Holiday Inn so we could shower for free. We pulled up at a hotel. Not THE hotel. You see, even though Dave knew exactly where I was supposed to be going, he did not let me know. We were outside the hotel for about 30 minutes when Dave said “they’re probably not coming down because we were supposed to take 1-80 to exit 148B.” THANKS DICK. THANKS A LOT. WHY WOULD YOU NOT TELL ME THIS. sigh….
Anyway, we got to the hotel eventually (Math bought an oar… that’s of note?) and I drank some beer and fell asleep. I woke up and it was around 1:00 so I went over to the Warped Tour where everyone had already checked in. Chicago Warped Tour was ridiculously fucking crowded, it was practically impossible to get around and say our final hellos to our friends who we won’t see for a little bit. A girl ate an entire container of mayonnaise at the Subway tent (ugh)… its all silly.
We played at the Beret/Backseat Productions tent today which was fun. Keith from the Mad Caddies watched us and agreed to play with us when we’re back on the tour. Chris Candy played the last of the trumpet that he will play for a little bit. Mike and I joined Middagh Goodwin’s noise rock band Novacain which was odd and fun. There were actually requests for songs and people who already knew us. Today was pretty cool.
Later on in the night, JT, Bove and I got killed for the new Backseat Productions (ex-Troma) movie that takes place at the Warped Tour. After we got killed, Doug from Backseat took a fire extinguisher of blood and planned to spray it all over Sum 41 as they were headlining. But he took too much time spraying it at the audience and we ran out of blood before we made it to the front of the stage.
We went out looking for food at the “Always Open” but the “Always Open” was closed. I’m supposed to mention that Joe found grape soda on tap at White Castle, but I’m too tired. To everyone we met on the Warped Tour, we’ll see you soon! To anyone in Canada, if you’re at the Warped Tour go see Destruction Made Simple and find them after their set and call them pussies for us (damn Californians!)
So last night, I got forced to drive. I drove for four or five hours while I was about to fall asleep, doing about 85 when there was roughly four inches of visibility. We were meeting with our friends at a Holiday Inn so we could shower for free. We pulled up at a hotel. Not THE hotel. You see, even though Dave knew exactly where I was supposed to be going, he did not let me know. We were outside the hotel for about 30 minutes when Dave said “they’re probably not coming down because we were supposed to take 1-80 to exit 148B.” THANKS DICK. THANKS A LOT. WHY WOULD YOU NOT TELL ME THIS. sigh….
Anyway, we got to the hotel eventually (Math bought an oar… that’s of note?) and I drank some beer and fell asleep. I woke up and it was around 1:00 so I went over to the Warped Tour where everyone had already checked in. Chicago Warped Tour was ridiculously fucking crowded, it was practically impossible to get around and say our final hellos to our friends who we won’t see for a little bit. A girl ate an entire container of mayonnaise at the Subway tent (ugh)… its all silly.
We played at the Beret/Backseat Productions tent today which was fun. Keith from the Mad Caddies watched us and agreed to play with us when we’re back on the tour. Chris Candy played the last of the trumpet that he will play for a little bit. Mike and I joined Middagh Goodwin’s noise rock band Novacain which was odd and fun. There were actually requests for songs and people who already knew us. Today was pretty cool.
Later on in the night, JT, Bove and I got killed for the new Backseat Productions (ex-Troma) movie that takes place at the Warped Tour. After we got killed, Doug from Backseat took a fire extinguisher of blood and planned to spray it all over Sum 41 as they were headlining. But he took too much time spraying it at the audience and we ran out of blood before we made it to the front of the stage.
We went out looking for food at the “Always Open” but the “Always Open” was closed. I’m supposed to mention that Joe found grape soda on tap at White Castle, but I’m too tired. To everyone we met on the Warped Tour, we’ll see you soon! To anyone in Canada, if you’re at the Warped Tour go see Destruction Made Simple and find them after their set and call them pussies for us (damn Californians!)
Wisconsin, but it counts as Minneapolis
Last night was a pretty long drive. We dropped Sean off at a desolate and entirely way to empty O’Hare Airport and started the drive towards Wisconsin, where since it is very close to Minnesota people have fucking awesome accents. I want to live there and talk like them.
Today was your average get out of the van right as you wake up and load out your shit so you can play the biggest fucking show for the 9th night in a row. Today was a pretty big deal for us. For the first time ever we were actually printed on the schedule. Well kind of. Kevin Lyman printed us as “Idiot Sons of Bitches”. Funny. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it so far but this tour has been great because no one will refer to us as ASOB. Everyone called us The Arrogant Sons of Bitches. It is great. I say “ASOB” they say “what?” I say “thanks”. Someone from AOL approached us about doing an interview because they think its cool that we snuck onto the Warped Tour.
Today was had our friend Jack, the sound guy at the Kevin Says stage kick off the set with a 1 2 3 4… it was awesome. Everyone over there has been treating us really well and really pulling for us with the people at productions and it’s a very strange feeling to have people standing in your corner and fighting along with ya. We’ve never had that before and now that we do I feel like with a year’s worth of people fighting for us we could take TRL and blow it up and ‘cause MTV to get off tha air.
When people fight in our corner and we fight as well there is nothing that works out better. We drew about 250 kids today, once again the biggest draw at the stage or so people have been telling me, and they were awesome. This is the first time I’ve seen a real pit since New York and it made me fucking happy to see dancing. I blew a fuse on my amp at the show and there was a band that was nice enough to lend me there’s, but I wasn’t nice enough to remember their name. Fuck me.
Anyway, Wisconsin was full of gorgeous girls with awesome accents. That’s all that I really paid attention to all day. I sat merch for a couple of hours, tried to fix my amplifier with Bove then I had to cancel our second set at the hip hop tent because it started raining and we had nowhere to put our equipment. Total bummer. There were kids who wanted to see us again.
Cheese Curds, motherfuckers. Wisconsin cheese is that good, and cheese curds are like a combination between Mozzarella sticks and zeppoles. Sound awesome? Yeah, because it fucking is awesome. We started saying some goodbyes today… it was weird. Don’t forget us! We’re coming back during the California days!
Tomorrow’s our last day on Warped for a week… we’re… fuck… its just crazy. This has been a dream and it doesn’t look like it is going to be ending any time soon… Right now I’m in the van on our way to Chicago to meet up with our friends Meg and Liz who have a hotel room that we are going to shower in and feel good in. Then I am going to Chicago and hopefully fuck some shit the fuck up.
By the way, our video is out, check it up on our website. So far I have been in 35 states, and I think that all we’re gonna get this summer. By the way, I’ve been telling people that we’re canceling all our New England dates but there is a slight possibility that we’ll be doing the show on the 5th so stay tuned for that. Later.
Last night was a pretty long drive. We dropped Sean off at a desolate and entirely way to empty O’Hare Airport and started the drive towards Wisconsin, where since it is very close to Minnesota people have fucking awesome accents. I want to live there and talk like them.
Today was your average get out of the van right as you wake up and load out your shit so you can play the biggest fucking show for the 9th night in a row. Today was a pretty big deal for us. For the first time ever we were actually printed on the schedule. Well kind of. Kevin Lyman printed us as “Idiot Sons of Bitches”. Funny. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it so far but this tour has been great because no one will refer to us as ASOB. Everyone called us The Arrogant Sons of Bitches. It is great. I say “ASOB” they say “what?” I say “thanks”. Someone from AOL approached us about doing an interview because they think its cool that we snuck onto the Warped Tour.
Today was had our friend Jack, the sound guy at the Kevin Says stage kick off the set with a 1 2 3 4… it was awesome. Everyone over there has been treating us really well and really pulling for us with the people at productions and it’s a very strange feeling to have people standing in your corner and fighting along with ya. We’ve never had that before and now that we do I feel like with a year’s worth of people fighting for us we could take TRL and blow it up and ‘cause MTV to get off tha air.
When people fight in our corner and we fight as well there is nothing that works out better. We drew about 250 kids today, once again the biggest draw at the stage or so people have been telling me, and they were awesome. This is the first time I’ve seen a real pit since New York and it made me fucking happy to see dancing. I blew a fuse on my amp at the show and there was a band that was nice enough to lend me there’s, but I wasn’t nice enough to remember their name. Fuck me.
Anyway, Wisconsin was full of gorgeous girls with awesome accents. That’s all that I really paid attention to all day. I sat merch for a couple of hours, tried to fix my amplifier with Bove then I had to cancel our second set at the hip hop tent because it started raining and we had nowhere to put our equipment. Total bummer. There were kids who wanted to see us again.
Cheese Curds, motherfuckers. Wisconsin cheese is that good, and cheese curds are like a combination between Mozzarella sticks and zeppoles. Sound awesome? Yeah, because it fucking is awesome. We started saying some goodbyes today… it was weird. Don’t forget us! We’re coming back during the California days!
Tomorrow’s our last day on Warped for a week… we’re… fuck… its just crazy. This has been a dream and it doesn’t look like it is going to be ending any time soon… Right now I’m in the van on our way to Chicago to meet up with our friends Meg and Liz who have a hotel room that we are going to shower in and feel good in. Then I am going to Chicago and hopefully fuck some shit the fuck up.
By the way, our video is out, check it up on our website. So far I have been in 35 states, and I think that all we’re gonna get this summer. By the way, I’ve been telling people that we’re canceling all our New England dates but there is a slight possibility that we’ll be doing the show on the 5th so stay tuned for that. Later.
6.28.2003
Indiana
Sean’s last show of the tour and he didn’t do anything but SLEEP ALL DAY! ITS TRUE! WOW! This morning we got told that Kevin Lyman wanted to speak with us. I ran around and found everyone I knew, because this means we would be added to the entire Warped Tour on the stage we get alone with and wanted to be on. Jack and Mike, the stage managers are nice and have been pulling for us. Arielle has been pulling for us. Word has been getting around that we are good.
This morning we got told that Kevin Lyman wanted to speak with us. By Dickerman. This means that we waited for about an hour listening to Middagh tell stories until I said “Kevin’s meeting us here?” and Dave said “Yeah, I think he said that.” So that means that no one had any idea what was going on. Still, he knows who we are? We got asked to play that stage again. Later on we were told that we would be ADDED TO THE OFFICIAL SCHEDULE. We were no longer a band sneaking on… they knew who we were.
To our dismay, we weren’t ever really put on the schedule today, but we got to play on the stage again… and we got invited back to play every day. We got added to the tour. Somewhat officially. We made some copies, ran into Chris Candy and Middagh at Kinko’s for some odd reason, then got back to watch some music and play a set. But my fucking guitar was missing.
I was pissed. I loaded out everyone’s shit and nobody loaded out my shit. I was cursing, screaming, kicking, blah blah blahing. Dustin from Letterkills was nice enough to lend me his set up, but I didn’t want to hurt his guitar, so our first official day on the Warped Tour and Sean’s last day on tour we pretty much sucked. The horns were good, Chris Candy was insane, but me and JT sucked because I was using someone else’s shit and JT felt like his lung was collapsing from lack of real sleep and rest.
Once again I spent the after show sulking, which I realize I usually do because I am incapable of having a good time/enjoying myself… we said our goodbyes to Sean, went to Burger King and found a newspaper that said “Gay Sex Ban Lifted”. Underneath the front page headline is a picture of two lesbians manhandling a screaming child. We are on the way to O’Hare now. Bove spilled mustard on me and I’m fucking pissed cause I HATE MUSTARD. I’m actually really confused because we have just been added to the 2003 Warped Tour. That doesn’t make sense. Let’s all say goodbye to Sean as we continue for, what… two more months? This is longer than I thought it would be… we have had good luck and a lot of help. Thanks to everyone who has helped us out on this tour.
Sean’s last show of the tour and he didn’t do anything but SLEEP ALL DAY! ITS TRUE! WOW! This morning we got told that Kevin Lyman wanted to speak with us. I ran around and found everyone I knew, because this means we would be added to the entire Warped Tour on the stage we get alone with and wanted to be on. Jack and Mike, the stage managers are nice and have been pulling for us. Arielle has been pulling for us. Word has been getting around that we are good.
This morning we got told that Kevin Lyman wanted to speak with us. By Dickerman. This means that we waited for about an hour listening to Middagh tell stories until I said “Kevin’s meeting us here?” and Dave said “Yeah, I think he said that.” So that means that no one had any idea what was going on. Still, he knows who we are? We got asked to play that stage again. Later on we were told that we would be ADDED TO THE OFFICIAL SCHEDULE. We were no longer a band sneaking on… they knew who we were.
To our dismay, we weren’t ever really put on the schedule today, but we got to play on the stage again… and we got invited back to play every day. We got added to the tour. Somewhat officially. We made some copies, ran into Chris Candy and Middagh at Kinko’s for some odd reason, then got back to watch some music and play a set. But my fucking guitar was missing.
I was pissed. I loaded out everyone’s shit and nobody loaded out my shit. I was cursing, screaming, kicking, blah blah blahing. Dustin from Letterkills was nice enough to lend me his set up, but I didn’t want to hurt his guitar, so our first official day on the Warped Tour and Sean’s last day on tour we pretty much sucked. The horns were good, Chris Candy was insane, but me and JT sucked because I was using someone else’s shit and JT felt like his lung was collapsing from lack of real sleep and rest.
Once again I spent the after show sulking, which I realize I usually do because I am incapable of having a good time/enjoying myself… we said our goodbyes to Sean, went to Burger King and found a newspaper that said “Gay Sex Ban Lifted”. Underneath the front page headline is a picture of two lesbians manhandling a screaming child. We are on the way to O’Hare now. Bove spilled mustard on me and I’m fucking pissed cause I HATE MUSTARD. I’m actually really confused because we have just been added to the 2003 Warped Tour. That doesn’t make sense. Let’s all say goodbye to Sean as we continue for, what… two more months? This is longer than I thought it would be… we have had good luck and a lot of help. Thanks to everyone who has helped us out on this tour.
Ohio
Sean and I woke up in a pool of our own sweat, literally. It was about 130 degrees in the van because someone left the windows all closed and the air conditioner off while I was trying to catch up on last night’s missed sleep and Sean was trying to go for the new sleeping record. Of course I got woken up with simultaneously great and bad news.
Someone (I was sleeping, fuck off): Wake up, load the shit in now. We’re playing the Kevin Says stage.
A STAGE. Not only a stage, but the stage that sits next to the Hopeline tent, where my good friend Arielle works, where I have been volunteering my time sporadically, the stage I wanted to play the day I got there. We got it. We got the goal. We brought in a bunch of shit, borrowed both Plea For Peace AND AFI’s dolly/handtruck(s) and ran up the stairs as fast as we could so we could get there on time.
Math put on the banana suit for 10 minutes and all of a sudden, there were about 100 people at the stage. By the time we were done there were around 400. This show was fucking awesome. Everyone loved it. I was tired as shit, but fuckin’ hell… apparently this was AWESOME. We sold around 100 CDs. A HUNDRED. We don’t even do that well per show at HOME. We pissed our pants with joy and signed autographs like we owned Cincinnati.
To celebrate (5 hours later), Sean Math and I went to the water park that was adjacent to the Warped Tour parking lot. It wasn’t a water park though, it was a POOL. And we didn’t even get in for free like our friend Middagh said we would. Fuckity. So we went on one of the big slides for the big kids and there was so much uncalled for 11-year-old bikini action that you couldn’t look in any direction without seeing something entirely inappropriate for prepubescent girls to wear. It was DISGUSTING.
The slide was not much fun because I got stopped in the middle because the water pressure was so bad. We went swimming but really just peed in the pool. I went for about 2 minutes literally… then it started to rain. Where’s Plea For Peace’s dolly?
We ran around looking for the missing dolly (which we found out later on got placed on their truck). They had to carry their shit out in the rain and I helped as much as I could. It was real bad, and we all ended this show feeling terrible because we fucked up our connections with
1) the stagehands at Kevin says stage (we didn’t move our equipment soon enough)
2) plea for peace (we borrowed their shit and lost it)
We agreed on waking up early the next day and buying one. We then drove, got a motel and slept slept slept slept slept. It was glorious. Tomorrow would be Indianapolis.
Sean and I woke up in a pool of our own sweat, literally. It was about 130 degrees in the van because someone left the windows all closed and the air conditioner off while I was trying to catch up on last night’s missed sleep and Sean was trying to go for the new sleeping record. Of course I got woken up with simultaneously great and bad news.
Someone (I was sleeping, fuck off): Wake up, load the shit in now. We’re playing the Kevin Says stage.
A STAGE. Not only a stage, but the stage that sits next to the Hopeline tent, where my good friend Arielle works, where I have been volunteering my time sporadically, the stage I wanted to play the day I got there. We got it. We got the goal. We brought in a bunch of shit, borrowed both Plea For Peace AND AFI’s dolly/handtruck(s) and ran up the stairs as fast as we could so we could get there on time.
Math put on the banana suit for 10 minutes and all of a sudden, there were about 100 people at the stage. By the time we were done there were around 400. This show was fucking awesome. Everyone loved it. I was tired as shit, but fuckin’ hell… apparently this was AWESOME. We sold around 100 CDs. A HUNDRED. We don’t even do that well per show at HOME. We pissed our pants with joy and signed autographs like we owned Cincinnati.
To celebrate (5 hours later), Sean Math and I went to the water park that was adjacent to the Warped Tour parking lot. It wasn’t a water park though, it was a POOL. And we didn’t even get in for free like our friend Middagh said we would. Fuckity. So we went on one of the big slides for the big kids and there was so much uncalled for 11-year-old bikini action that you couldn’t look in any direction without seeing something entirely inappropriate for prepubescent girls to wear. It was DISGUSTING.
The slide was not much fun because I got stopped in the middle because the water pressure was so bad. We went swimming but really just peed in the pool. I went for about 2 minutes literally… then it started to rain. Where’s Plea For Peace’s dolly?
We ran around looking for the missing dolly (which we found out later on got placed on their truck). They had to carry their shit out in the rain and I helped as much as I could. It was real bad, and we all ended this show feeling terrible because we fucked up our connections with
1) the stagehands at Kevin says stage (we didn’t move our equipment soon enough)
2) plea for peace (we borrowed their shit and lost it)
We agreed on waking up early the next day and buying one. We then drove, got a motel and slept slept slept slept slept. It was glorious. Tomorrow would be Indianapolis.
Missouri
I don’t know what happened this day either. We kind of sat around exhausted all morning and decided since we didn’t have anywhere to play and had a blown up P.A. so we couldn’t use the generator. We drove around for about a billion hours because we didn’t have anywhere really to go… our plans fell through. I called my old friend Julie Terbrock who lives in St. Louis and she was kind enough, as was her family to feed us, give us showers and laundry time.
As we were doing the laundry, Seandavejoemike and math.went to a club. Julie warned them that it was all 40 year old yuppie types, but they didn’t listen. They got very drunk and apparently it was totally lame. Sean got into a fight with a bouncer who said he was underage… he had a fake ID but kept saying all the information on it in a really sarcastic voice. He went to the bar and got some free shots for telling the bartender how much of an asshole the bouncer was for trying to stop an underage kid from drinking. The bartender gave him free shots once Sean drunkenly mentioned that he worked with handicapped kids. The bouncer even came over and apologized to Sean, and Sean yelled at him.
Mike did a dance I like to call the lasso. What a loser.
So yeah, Julie came along with us for the trip to Cincinnati so JT and Bove slept in her car to keep her company. I had to stay awake in shotgun position even though I hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours the past few days. Nothing interesting about this drive except that sunflower seeds will keep your ass awake because eating them isn’t so much eating as it is an intense activity. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned on this tour diary that it states on the packages that sunflower seeds are a “snacktivity” (in bold writing). Well, it does. Eventually I got to sleep for a few hours until I woke up choking.
I don’t know what happened this day either. We kind of sat around exhausted all morning and decided since we didn’t have anywhere to play and had a blown up P.A. so we couldn’t use the generator. We drove around for about a billion hours because we didn’t have anywhere really to go… our plans fell through. I called my old friend Julie Terbrock who lives in St. Louis and she was kind enough, as was her family to feed us, give us showers and laundry time.
As we were doing the laundry, Seandavejoemike and math.went to a club. Julie warned them that it was all 40 year old yuppie types, but they didn’t listen. They got very drunk and apparently it was totally lame. Sean got into a fight with a bouncer who said he was underage… he had a fake ID but kept saying all the information on it in a really sarcastic voice. He went to the bar and got some free shots for telling the bartender how much of an asshole the bouncer was for trying to stop an underage kid from drinking. The bartender gave him free shots once Sean drunkenly mentioned that he worked with handicapped kids. The bouncer even came over and apologized to Sean, and Sean yelled at him.
Mike did a dance I like to call the lasso. What a loser.
So yeah, Julie came along with us for the trip to Cincinnati so JT and Bove slept in her car to keep her company. I had to stay awake in shotgun position even though I hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours the past few days. Nothing interesting about this drive except that sunflower seeds will keep your ass awake because eating them isn’t so much eating as it is an intense activity. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned on this tour diary that it states on the packages that sunflower seeds are a “snacktivity” (in bold writing). Well, it does. Eventually I got to sleep for a few hours until I woke up choking.
Kansas City, Kansas… not Missouri
Alright… so we had a not so long drive that I slept through, although it was still quite a confusing drive. Is Kansas City in Kansas? Is Kansas City in Missouri? We apparently drove to the Kansas City that was in Missouri. Shitty. This was a tired tired day, especially for me, in fact I don’t really remember what I did today aside from walk around in a daze, trying to sleep in the Hopeline tent and then… I don’t know man… I completely fucking forget. I might have watched some Awful Truth… yeah… let’s stick with that. It was about 1,000 fucking degrees outside and there was NO WATER ANYWHERE. None of our tents had it. Nobody had any free water. All there was were fucking energy drinks…
For those of you who haven’t made it to the Warped Tour yet there are two Monster beverages. Monster Tour Water and Monster Energy Drink… they have the exact same can… I think they both might even say Energy on them. Anyways, we just walked around and checked everywhere and all there was were fucking green tabs on top of the can… they warn not to drink 2 of these cans… they dehydrate you. They are the opposite of water.
So we all just sat around and were thirsty all day. We played the night shift at the Beret/Backseat Conceptions Productions tent. We set up our generator.
Bove: Is the generator full of gas?
Dave: Yes.
Well, needless to say, the people who watched us were treated to one song and then all of our equipment shut off cause the generator ran out of gas. Unfortunately, when the PA went out we blew a fuse. We thanked the people who watched us and they said “play instrumentals.” So we tried to do that and it wasn’t that bad. I span around a lot and finally got to just play guitar and JT walked around the crowd and whispered words in their ears. All the kids sang “everything is always falling apart” with us and that was really really cool. So it went kinda bad, but we didn’t do shit all day because we were exhausted.
We hung out at the barbecue for a while and there was still no water. I got to eat a Gardenburger before Davey Havok did and that made me happy. Dave, Joe and I went onto the Bowling For Soup bus to show them our new video. They loved it and so did David from…
Here’s what’s funny. He was just introduced as a guy with a funny accent to me. He said what’s your name, what band are you in? We told him, asked him and he said “My name is David.” Maybe these are things that we are supposed to know.when a band is huge, on MTV, et cetera. So this guy is talking for a while and for some reason mentions Reset, a band I saw about 3 years ago on Warped… I actually have been comparing Reset to us because they played to not that many people, but the people dug them, and I always wondered what happens to bands like those. Why they don’t go to main stage, what we can do to do that.
Jeff: Ah, man, you used to be in Reset?
David: Yeah.
Jeff: Whatever happened to you guys?
David: We broke up.
Jeff: What band are you in right now?
David: Simple Plan.
Damn. So, I guess I’m a dick because I don’t recognize famous people. We proceeded to talk about Reset for a very long time… funny, right? The guy from Simple Plan.
We delivered a whole bunch of water to the barbecue as a thanks for them being so nice to us. The guys in Destruction Made Simple are smart, kind and awesome. They threw the barbecue tonight because it is down home good fun cookin’. Then we left for St. Louis? Went to a Flying J and said “yeah, we’re on the Warped Tour… yeah, we’d like some free showers.” Some trucker even bought our showers for us because we’re on Warped. Awesome.
Alright… so we had a not so long drive that I slept through, although it was still quite a confusing drive. Is Kansas City in Kansas? Is Kansas City in Missouri? We apparently drove to the Kansas City that was in Missouri. Shitty. This was a tired tired day, especially for me, in fact I don’t really remember what I did today aside from walk around in a daze, trying to sleep in the Hopeline tent and then… I don’t know man… I completely fucking forget. I might have watched some Awful Truth… yeah… let’s stick with that. It was about 1,000 fucking degrees outside and there was NO WATER ANYWHERE. None of our tents had it. Nobody had any free water. All there was were fucking energy drinks…
For those of you who haven’t made it to the Warped Tour yet there are two Monster beverages. Monster Tour Water and Monster Energy Drink… they have the exact same can… I think they both might even say Energy on them. Anyways, we just walked around and checked everywhere and all there was were fucking green tabs on top of the can… they warn not to drink 2 of these cans… they dehydrate you. They are the opposite of water.
So we all just sat around and were thirsty all day. We played the night shift at the Beret/Backseat Conceptions Productions tent. We set up our generator.
Bove: Is the generator full of gas?
Dave: Yes.
Well, needless to say, the people who watched us were treated to one song and then all of our equipment shut off cause the generator ran out of gas. Unfortunately, when the PA went out we blew a fuse. We thanked the people who watched us and they said “play instrumentals.” So we tried to do that and it wasn’t that bad. I span around a lot and finally got to just play guitar and JT walked around the crowd and whispered words in their ears. All the kids sang “everything is always falling apart” with us and that was really really cool. So it went kinda bad, but we didn’t do shit all day because we were exhausted.
We hung out at the barbecue for a while and there was still no water. I got to eat a Gardenburger before Davey Havok did and that made me happy. Dave, Joe and I went onto the Bowling For Soup bus to show them our new video. They loved it and so did David from…
Here’s what’s funny. He was just introduced as a guy with a funny accent to me. He said what’s your name, what band are you in? We told him, asked him and he said “My name is David.” Maybe these are things that we are supposed to know.when a band is huge, on MTV, et cetera. So this guy is talking for a while and for some reason mentions Reset, a band I saw about 3 years ago on Warped… I actually have been comparing Reset to us because they played to not that many people, but the people dug them, and I always wondered what happens to bands like those. Why they don’t go to main stage, what we can do to do that.
Jeff: Ah, man, you used to be in Reset?
David: Yeah.
Jeff: Whatever happened to you guys?
David: We broke up.
Jeff: What band are you in right now?
David: Simple Plan.
Damn. So, I guess I’m a dick because I don’t recognize famous people. We proceeded to talk about Reset for a very long time… funny, right? The guy from Simple Plan.
We delivered a whole bunch of water to the barbecue as a thanks for them being so nice to us. The guys in Destruction Made Simple are smart, kind and awesome. They threw the barbecue tonight because it is down home good fun cookin’. Then we left for St. Louis? Went to a Flying J and said “yeah, we’re on the Warped Tour… yeah, we’d like some free showers.” Some trucker even bought our showers for us because we’re on Warped. Awesome.
6.27.2003
Wichita, Kansas
Two Kansas dates. I’ve never even heard of Kansas. I woke up out of a dead sleep overhearing pieces of the phrase “yep, we’re playing three times today.” I was pissed. Repeating basically the same set list every day was a little irritating, as I was driving to Kansas all I could think about was how badly I wanted to play “Last on my List” and now I wasn’t going to be able to.
I pouted because I had only had about 2 hours of sleep before I was woken up (I drive a lot) and, fuck, man, we had to play the same 4 songs 3 times. Then we realized that, shit, this is the fucking Warped Tour. And we don’t really need to do anything.
Try and follow me. Code of the Cutz (hip-hop tent) had a lot of open slots this day, except instead of playing one long set we would have to cut it into 15/20 minute sets because the Kevin Says stage was facing it right on. We decided after the first set that we would just play whatever songs came into our head and then continue that list of songs at the second set, hoping for repeat customers.
The first set went fucking well. We made money and I lost about $80 for an uncomfortably long period of time (until load out time). There was wind blowing our banner off the tent, but there were kids there who wanted to cool out and relax. We weren’t having any of that.
Eventually, neither were they. We got to play three sets, all of which turned out excellently… our best day on Warped so far in every way. One person told me that “Piss Off” was a catharsis of sorts because his ex-grilfriend was standing right in the audience and he was screaming at her. It sounded like he had an almost religious experience because of our words. That made me feel like it was all worth it… every shitty stop on the way to get to Wichita… WICHITA? Who knew how hard they rocked? Not me before this show. We had repeat customers from the first set who blew $30 to see ASOB three times, and get this… THEY KNEW THE WORDS TO OUR SONGS. As I said it was incredible.
Celebration was mandatory. The Code of the Cutz girls came over and congratulated us and we hung out with them for a little bit. I heard that the barbecue was on on on so I traveled over to the other side of the parking lot, cut a whole bunch of famous bands on line and met up with Arielle, Sean and Dave (Sean was already double fisting).
HERE IS WHERE WE DROP THE NAMES.
JT at some point during the night asked Tim if he could play keyboards in Rancid for the ska songs, going over Lars’s head. Tim said “hey, you play keyboards? You should record with me.” Long story short, Tim invited JT on his bus to check out his recording studio and to listen to the stuff that he’s been doing. He checked out Tim’s keyboard and said “I’m not a knob-twiddler.” Damn. So Tim invited JT to record with him in his recording studio on the Rancid bus the next night. Insane, right? Right? Right.
Sean likes to drink so he made his way over to the Dropkick Murphys and pretty much hung out with them the whole night, got invited back to their tent to drink more some other time and hey, now Sean is friends with the other Irish people on tour.
Mike, Bove and Joe were hanging out with people all night. Don’t know who that was with.
Me, Math and Dave met up with the Glassjaw, and talked about good old Long Island hardcore for a little bit. Then a bunch of us saw Bowling For Soup’s bus which I’m telling you could be a fucking episode of cribs. Nice TV. Bunks. A clock. A TV/media center. It was insane. All the buses are insane. Bands with buses. Wacky. We saw their new video. It’s funny. Chris Bernie is pretty damn big.
So, everyone’s talking to all these famous people, getting way drunk and I run into Sean. Sean runs the Easy Mac tent. Today his workers didn’t know how to make Easy Mac. I literally talked to this dude for about 40 minutes about macaroni and cheese and how easy it is to make it and how could somebody possibly fuck up Easy Mac because I’d really like to know. 40 minutes. Eventually I said “Sean, I’ve been talking about macaroni and cheese for far too long. I’m going to save us both from talking about it all night.” I then bumped into Dave talking to some pretty townies and started talking about macaroni and cheese. Yep.
So we didn’t have a van call today and everybody started yelling at everyone else. He’s hooking up with who I was trying to hook up with. Blah blah blah. No one came to the van on time really. Where is Mike? He’s over there. Okay, let’s find Math. Ok, we found Math. Where’s Joe? Okay, now we lost Mike. This went on for about TWO HOURS. I was pissed because I didn’t sleep the night before because I drove all night so everyone else could rest.
Our friend Kevin got us a NICE hotel. Sheraton. Insane. Nice pillows. A TV that you could play pay-per-view video games (a controller sticks out of the TV and you order games). We got to stay there for not that long because everyone fucking stayed at the barbecue too late. I was very pissed. Math was supposed to do the laundry because he held us up at the barbecue. He put one load in and fell asleep in the laundry room. Joe and Mike stayed up and did their laundry but no one else’s. To this day, the laundry has yet to be done. I think that’s it. I’m gonna post all this shit now even though its almost a week later.
We love you.
Two Kansas dates. I’ve never even heard of Kansas. I woke up out of a dead sleep overhearing pieces of the phrase “yep, we’re playing three times today.” I was pissed. Repeating basically the same set list every day was a little irritating, as I was driving to Kansas all I could think about was how badly I wanted to play “Last on my List” and now I wasn’t going to be able to.
I pouted because I had only had about 2 hours of sleep before I was woken up (I drive a lot) and, fuck, man, we had to play the same 4 songs 3 times. Then we realized that, shit, this is the fucking Warped Tour. And we don’t really need to do anything.
Try and follow me. Code of the Cutz (hip-hop tent) had a lot of open slots this day, except instead of playing one long set we would have to cut it into 15/20 minute sets because the Kevin Says stage was facing it right on. We decided after the first set that we would just play whatever songs came into our head and then continue that list of songs at the second set, hoping for repeat customers.
The first set went fucking well. We made money and I lost about $80 for an uncomfortably long period of time (until load out time). There was wind blowing our banner off the tent, but there were kids there who wanted to cool out and relax. We weren’t having any of that.
Eventually, neither were they. We got to play three sets, all of which turned out excellently… our best day on Warped so far in every way. One person told me that “Piss Off” was a catharsis of sorts because his ex-grilfriend was standing right in the audience and he was screaming at her. It sounded like he had an almost religious experience because of our words. That made me feel like it was all worth it… every shitty stop on the way to get to Wichita… WICHITA? Who knew how hard they rocked? Not me before this show. We had repeat customers from the first set who blew $30 to see ASOB three times, and get this… THEY KNEW THE WORDS TO OUR SONGS. As I said it was incredible.
Celebration was mandatory. The Code of the Cutz girls came over and congratulated us and we hung out with them for a little bit. I heard that the barbecue was on on on so I traveled over to the other side of the parking lot, cut a whole bunch of famous bands on line and met up with Arielle, Sean and Dave (Sean was already double fisting).
HERE IS WHERE WE DROP THE NAMES.
JT at some point during the night asked Tim if he could play keyboards in Rancid for the ska songs, going over Lars’s head. Tim said “hey, you play keyboards? You should record with me.” Long story short, Tim invited JT on his bus to check out his recording studio and to listen to the stuff that he’s been doing. He checked out Tim’s keyboard and said “I’m not a knob-twiddler.” Damn. So Tim invited JT to record with him in his recording studio on the Rancid bus the next night. Insane, right? Right? Right.
Sean likes to drink so he made his way over to the Dropkick Murphys and pretty much hung out with them the whole night, got invited back to their tent to drink more some other time and hey, now Sean is friends with the other Irish people on tour.
Mike, Bove and Joe were hanging out with people all night. Don’t know who that was with.
Me, Math and Dave met up with the Glassjaw, and talked about good old Long Island hardcore for a little bit. Then a bunch of us saw Bowling For Soup’s bus which I’m telling you could be a fucking episode of cribs. Nice TV. Bunks. A clock. A TV/media center. It was insane. All the buses are insane. Bands with buses. Wacky. We saw their new video. It’s funny. Chris Bernie is pretty damn big.
So, everyone’s talking to all these famous people, getting way drunk and I run into Sean. Sean runs the Easy Mac tent. Today his workers didn’t know how to make Easy Mac. I literally talked to this dude for about 40 minutes about macaroni and cheese and how easy it is to make it and how could somebody possibly fuck up Easy Mac because I’d really like to know. 40 minutes. Eventually I said “Sean, I’ve been talking about macaroni and cheese for far too long. I’m going to save us both from talking about it all night.” I then bumped into Dave talking to some pretty townies and started talking about macaroni and cheese. Yep.
So we didn’t have a van call today and everybody started yelling at everyone else. He’s hooking up with who I was trying to hook up with. Blah blah blah. No one came to the van on time really. Where is Mike? He’s over there. Okay, let’s find Math. Ok, we found Math. Where’s Joe? Okay, now we lost Mike. This went on for about TWO HOURS. I was pissed because I didn’t sleep the night before because I drove all night so everyone else could rest.
Our friend Kevin got us a NICE hotel. Sheraton. Insane. Nice pillows. A TV that you could play pay-per-view video games (a controller sticks out of the TV and you order games). We got to stay there for not that long because everyone fucking stayed at the barbecue too late. I was very pissed. Math was supposed to do the laundry because he held us up at the barbecue. He put one load in and fell asleep in the laundry room. Joe and Mike stayed up and did their laundry but no one else’s. To this day, the laundry has yet to be done. I think that’s it. I’m gonna post all this shit now even though its almost a week later.
We love you.
Colorado
I wake up and we are outside Mile High Stadium. We’re playing a fucking stadium show in a sense. A STADIUM SHOW. I am probably the worst one to write this diary and I refuse to let anyone else do it. We hung out at the Subway tent and forced people to buy our CD under one pretense: if enough Asbestos Records are sold… I will shave myself a Mohawk. We sold like 40 in the first five minutes. Fuck. My hair is going. I took off my hat so I can enjoy my hair for the last day that I will have it.
I got to see Glassjaw for the first time in 7 years and they got a lot bigger if any of you Long Island Hardcore fans have noticed.
We played the hip-hop tent again and it was a lot of fun. Then I got my hair shaved the fuck off. In Mile High stadium. This was a day when I just called everyone I knew and said “holy fuck… look at what I’m fucking doing.”
Today was also the day that we found out that Math was really good at harassing people and convincing them to buy stuff. He sold around 200 compilations just because he has no shame. I’ll be honest… I don’t know what day of the week it is right now, and I don’t remember all that much about Colorado. All I remember is that it was the day before the barbecue.
I wake up and we are outside Mile High Stadium. We’re playing a fucking stadium show in a sense. A STADIUM SHOW. I am probably the worst one to write this diary and I refuse to let anyone else do it. We hung out at the Subway tent and forced people to buy our CD under one pretense: if enough Asbestos Records are sold… I will shave myself a Mohawk. We sold like 40 in the first five minutes. Fuck. My hair is going. I took off my hat so I can enjoy my hair for the last day that I will have it.
I got to see Glassjaw for the first time in 7 years and they got a lot bigger if any of you Long Island Hardcore fans have noticed.
We played the hip-hop tent again and it was a lot of fun. Then I got my hair shaved the fuck off. In Mile High stadium. This was a day when I just called everyone I knew and said “holy fuck… look at what I’m fucking doing.”
Today was also the day that we found out that Math was really good at harassing people and convincing them to buy stuff. He sold around 200 compilations just because he has no shame. I’ll be honest… I don’t know what day of the week it is right now, and I don’t remember all that much about Colorado. All I remember is that it was the day before the barbecue.
Utah
Jaime and Pooja from the Code of tha Cutz tent invited us back to play every day. We’re on the fucking Warped Tour, even though we’re not invited whatsoever. Alright… we meet up with some other Long Island friends who used to work for Troma and now run Backseat Conceptions and participate in the band Beret… New York’s only French Hardcore band. They have a bus and their own power and at this point we’re still afraid that Code of tha Cutz hates us for fucking up their tent. So we decide to set up our P.A. combined with their P.A. to make a super P.A. and play a show outside.
Problem. Beret breaks LOTS OF EQUIPMENT. It wasn’t really a problem. We’re on the fucking Warped Tour and having a blast. Fuck equipment failure. It happens. Here’s what else happens.
We park next to Less Than Jake’s bus. I took the long drive home and walked up to Roger thinking he was a driver that I waved hello to in a gas station and said “hey, didn’t I see you at the gas station last night?” and he says “no, I was in a wal-mart” and I say “oh, musta been someone else, I’m jeff”, “I’m roger”, oh fuck. The Less Than Jake guy. No worries though. Later on that morning, Chris from Less Than Jake sees JT’s broken trumpet (“Tyrone”) and asks JT to play it on stage with them. ASKS him to play it. Not the other way around.
So we had some sound problems. Whatever. We had a fun ass set and a lot of people were enjoying what we do and that makes me a happy guy. Chris Candy from the Plea for Peace booth has been playing trumpet with us for the Warped Tour, Arielle Bilelak (sp?) from the Hopeline comes down to watch us and see how we’re doing, we see Middagh Goodwin every morning and see how his presidential campaign is going, we hang with Flood and Scotty and the Subway guys every day as well as the Beret guys and the Code of tha Cutz girls and fucking A its like a family out here. We have a posse. It’s rad. When you drive on the interstate at 4 in the morning, you see all the buses of all the other bands and you pass them and smile the drivers smile back at you. Its as if you’re the only vehicles on the road… the interstate is made for the people with the Warped Tour.
I watched JT dance around like an idiot with LTJ and as we’re loading out we pass by the Used, the Suicide Machines and Bowling For Soup… this is the point where you realize “holy shit, I’m on the fuckin’ Warped Tour. I’m not supposed to be here. I snuck in and got lucky.” It’s like sneaking backstage at a conversation every day and getting to play there. We drive to another Subway or a fucking Flying J or something and we get free stuff for saying “we’re with the Warped Tour” because we ARE with the Warped Tour. If you want free stuff, say you’re with the Warped Tour next time they come around. This is what I remember about Utah.
Jaime and Pooja from the Code of tha Cutz tent invited us back to play every day. We’re on the fucking Warped Tour, even though we’re not invited whatsoever. Alright… we meet up with some other Long Island friends who used to work for Troma and now run Backseat Conceptions and participate in the band Beret… New York’s only French Hardcore band. They have a bus and their own power and at this point we’re still afraid that Code of tha Cutz hates us for fucking up their tent. So we decide to set up our P.A. combined with their P.A. to make a super P.A. and play a show outside.
Problem. Beret breaks LOTS OF EQUIPMENT. It wasn’t really a problem. We’re on the fucking Warped Tour and having a blast. Fuck equipment failure. It happens. Here’s what else happens.
We park next to Less Than Jake’s bus. I took the long drive home and walked up to Roger thinking he was a driver that I waved hello to in a gas station and said “hey, didn’t I see you at the gas station last night?” and he says “no, I was in a wal-mart” and I say “oh, musta been someone else, I’m jeff”, “I’m roger”, oh fuck. The Less Than Jake guy. No worries though. Later on that morning, Chris from Less Than Jake sees JT’s broken trumpet (“Tyrone”) and asks JT to play it on stage with them. ASKS him to play it. Not the other way around.
So we had some sound problems. Whatever. We had a fun ass set and a lot of people were enjoying what we do and that makes me a happy guy. Chris Candy from the Plea for Peace booth has been playing trumpet with us for the Warped Tour, Arielle Bilelak (sp?) from the Hopeline comes down to watch us and see how we’re doing, we see Middagh Goodwin every morning and see how his presidential campaign is going, we hang with Flood and Scotty and the Subway guys every day as well as the Beret guys and the Code of tha Cutz girls and fucking A its like a family out here. We have a posse. It’s rad. When you drive on the interstate at 4 in the morning, you see all the buses of all the other bands and you pass them and smile the drivers smile back at you. Its as if you’re the only vehicles on the road… the interstate is made for the people with the Warped Tour.
I watched JT dance around like an idiot with LTJ and as we’re loading out we pass by the Used, the Suicide Machines and Bowling For Soup… this is the point where you realize “holy shit, I’m on the fuckin’ Warped Tour. I’m not supposed to be here. I snuck in and got lucky.” It’s like sneaking backstage at a conversation every day and getting to play there. We drive to another Subway or a fucking Flying J or something and we get free stuff for saying “we’re with the Warped Tour” because we ARE with the Warped Tour. If you want free stuff, say you’re with the Warped Tour next time they come around. This is what I remember about Utah.
Montana
Don’t really remember the drive to Montana all that much. I just kinda woke up and we were in the parking lot… I’m not sure, it was a few days ago. On the Warped Tour it all seems like the same day except the tents are rearranged… its like waking up in your house but someone moved all of your shit around. You wake up and step out of your bedroom (our van) and FUCK somebody moved the kitchen and the bathroom is in its place! What the fuck?
So the day before Flood invited us to play his tent plugged in. Subway gave our friend of a friend Flood a chance to sell some of his compilations by promoting SUBWAY SANDWICHES! Weird, right? We show up and they say we can’t plug in and play too loud because that would apparently not help to sell sandwiches. We walked around and asked some people that we thought could help us. Take Action Stage? No. fuck. No openings anywhere. Kevin Lyman probably doesn’t want us bugging him all day.
Bottom line, there is a hip-hop tent where people spin and freestyle as well as a few local artists. We went up to Jaime because Flood hooked them up with free sandwiches earlier in the day and asked her if there were any open spots. There were and we kind of reticent about letting them know anything other than “we’re a rock band looking for a place to play.” Once again it rains during our set once again… rains all fucking day. One minute we’re outside spraypainting our banner and the next there is a pouring rain storm. Damn.
FAMOUS PEOPLE STORIES:
Daryl (glassjaw): Where are you from?
Dave: Long Island.
Daryl: What the fuck are you doing HERE?
JT: I know you guys don’t have a keyboard player and I wanna know if I can play keyboards with you.
Lars (Rancid): No.
[Sean McCabe spills cash box]
Lars (Rancid) [helping clean up the cash box]: Don’t let it ruin your day.
So it rains a little less while we’re playing and… well, we learned something from a band called Never Heard Of It. Go around with CD players and your CD. FUCKING PROMOTE YOUR SHIT. Some of us walked around in banana suits and CD players and played “So Let’s Go Nowhere”. You like it? Come see us at the hip-hop tent right across from Subway. Yeah. The hip-hop tent. No, we’re not hip-hop, didn’t you listen to the CD?
So we set up all of our stuff and I’m nervous that we’re gonna get thrown out of the tent and no one will watch us because our time slot got switched and no one expects to see punk rock at a hip-hop tent. Things go well. Fucking well if I do say so myself. You can’t hear the vocals, but Montana still new how to rock. Fuckin’ Montana? What?
We go to the Subway booth for autograph signings after the show… yeah, that’s what we have to call it so we can sell our CDs. And they’re going like CRAZY. Much better than the hard sell at the 21+ scene. When the post-show scene dies down… one of the Subway guys… hold on, let me just say this really quick that we had extended conversations with the man who invented the Subway logo… they start trying to give away $5 gift certificates with our CDs. So we think… HEY, LETS JUST SELL THEM $5 GIFT CERTIFICATES TO SUBWAY AND GIVE AWAY FREE CDs… also, if you buy a cookie with it, you get $4 cash BACK. Incredible. So we sell a whole fucking bunch. The woman who was working asked if we will record the theme music at the commercial.
Afterwards we go to subway because we have all sorts of coupons and we can essentially eat for free. Especially when I mention that we ARE SPONSORED BY SUBWAY. We walk in like we fucking own the place and people hear that we’re touring with the warped tour and they love it. They buy CDs, ask for autographs… I take a fucking dump and it felt glorious. I don’t believe there was any blood in it this day, but I can’t remember specifically because I’ve shit in a lot of Subways the past few days.
Don’t really remember the drive to Montana all that much. I just kinda woke up and we were in the parking lot… I’m not sure, it was a few days ago. On the Warped Tour it all seems like the same day except the tents are rearranged… its like waking up in your house but someone moved all of your shit around. You wake up and step out of your bedroom (our van) and FUCK somebody moved the kitchen and the bathroom is in its place! What the fuck?
So the day before Flood invited us to play his tent plugged in. Subway gave our friend of a friend Flood a chance to sell some of his compilations by promoting SUBWAY SANDWICHES! Weird, right? We show up and they say we can’t plug in and play too loud because that would apparently not help to sell sandwiches. We walked around and asked some people that we thought could help us. Take Action Stage? No. fuck. No openings anywhere. Kevin Lyman probably doesn’t want us bugging him all day.
Bottom line, there is a hip-hop tent where people spin and freestyle as well as a few local artists. We went up to Jaime because Flood hooked them up with free sandwiches earlier in the day and asked her if there were any open spots. There were and we kind of reticent about letting them know anything other than “we’re a rock band looking for a place to play.” Once again it rains during our set once again… rains all fucking day. One minute we’re outside spraypainting our banner and the next there is a pouring rain storm. Damn.
FAMOUS PEOPLE STORIES:
Daryl (glassjaw): Where are you from?
Dave: Long Island.
Daryl: What the fuck are you doing HERE?
JT: I know you guys don’t have a keyboard player and I wanna know if I can play keyboards with you.
Lars (Rancid): No.
[Sean McCabe spills cash box]
Lars (Rancid) [helping clean up the cash box]: Don’t let it ruin your day.
So it rains a little less while we’re playing and… well, we learned something from a band called Never Heard Of It. Go around with CD players and your CD. FUCKING PROMOTE YOUR SHIT. Some of us walked around in banana suits and CD players and played “So Let’s Go Nowhere”. You like it? Come see us at the hip-hop tent right across from Subway. Yeah. The hip-hop tent. No, we’re not hip-hop, didn’t you listen to the CD?
So we set up all of our stuff and I’m nervous that we’re gonna get thrown out of the tent and no one will watch us because our time slot got switched and no one expects to see punk rock at a hip-hop tent. Things go well. Fucking well if I do say so myself. You can’t hear the vocals, but Montana still new how to rock. Fuckin’ Montana? What?
We go to the Subway booth for autograph signings after the show… yeah, that’s what we have to call it so we can sell our CDs. And they’re going like CRAZY. Much better than the hard sell at the 21+ scene. When the post-show scene dies down… one of the Subway guys… hold on, let me just say this really quick that we had extended conversations with the man who invented the Subway logo… they start trying to give away $5 gift certificates with our CDs. So we think… HEY, LETS JUST SELL THEM $5 GIFT CERTIFICATES TO SUBWAY AND GIVE AWAY FREE CDs… also, if you buy a cookie with it, you get $4 cash BACK. Incredible. So we sell a whole fucking bunch. The woman who was working asked if we will record the theme music at the commercial.
Afterwards we go to subway because we have all sorts of coupons and we can essentially eat for free. Especially when I mention that we ARE SPONSORED BY SUBWAY. We walk in like we fucking own the place and people hear that we’re touring with the warped tour and they love it. They buy CDs, ask for autographs… I take a fucking dump and it felt glorious. I don’t believe there was any blood in it this day, but I can’t remember specifically because I’ve shit in a lot of Subways the past few days.
6.22.2003
Idaho
Idaho? That’s right kids. Idaho. Long fucking drive from Oakland, California… we left the game and eventually at around 7 o clock I started driving and brought us into the parking lot of the Warped Tour where we all ran out, grabbed acoustic guitars and a banana suit and started playing acoustically for the line. The line was already diminishing quickly, so we didn’t really get to sell much. However, we met up with Scotty from Asbestos and he said he might be able to help us out a little. God damn. JT and I gave Arielle from Hopeline a call and volunteered some of our time that day while schmoozing with a few of the key people at the Warped Tour. During the day, the rest of the guys ran errands. We made flyers (because we have no stickers), we bought a CD burner to make free sample (and the CD burner doesn’t work), we bought a sheet and spraypaint to make a banner, and we just hung out. Working the 1-800-SUICIDE booth was a lot of fun.
ANYWAY… SHOW TIME…
We finally reconvene inside the Warped Tour after flashing our passes that look like Warped Tour passes. I use some paper and make a giant sign that says:
“ITS STILL TIME TO ROCK AND ROLL. THE ARROGANT SONS OF BITCHES unOFFICIAL POST-SHOW PARKING LOT DANCE PARTY.” That’s right kids, playing parking lots on our national tour. As we’re promoting there is a giant cloud starts coming our way. Fuck me.
We run outside during AFI, grab our van and our generator and set everything up as soon as possible. A little drizzle. Not a big deal. We start Kill The President and hell comes from the sky. GUSTING WINDS, dare I say, GALES. Starts blowing over all of our stuff. People come from all around to watch and we continue to rock out. The Dropkick Murphy’s are taken off the stage due to weather. We continue to play. All the microphones fall and my shit falls over. I stand on some cement platform and just spin my guitar and scream. Mike plays his drums as they’re falling into him. Bove’s bass rig starts blowing away. Math can barely hold up the tent. Sean plays trombone while trying to stop his hat from flying away. It was without a doubt the most kamikaze and awesome show we’ve ever done. Three songs were all we could do… we packed up our stuff in record time. JT grabbed a bar of soap and started showering in the rain, which after our performance, turned from monsoon to sunshower. Thanks, God.
The rest of us showered at a Flying J. We told them we were with the Warped Tour. They gave us a group discount. AWESOME? AWESOME. Lots of driving gets done. I don’t even know what day of the week it is. Anyway, we took forever at the Flying J and we REAL nervous about making it to the Warped Tour on time the next day? What happened the next day… coming soon… in the next installment of Holy Shit We’re On The Famous Punk Rock Tour.
Idaho? That’s right kids. Idaho. Long fucking drive from Oakland, California… we left the game and eventually at around 7 o clock I started driving and brought us into the parking lot of the Warped Tour where we all ran out, grabbed acoustic guitars and a banana suit and started playing acoustically for the line. The line was already diminishing quickly, so we didn’t really get to sell much. However, we met up with Scotty from Asbestos and he said he might be able to help us out a little. God damn. JT and I gave Arielle from Hopeline a call and volunteered some of our time that day while schmoozing with a few of the key people at the Warped Tour. During the day, the rest of the guys ran errands. We made flyers (because we have no stickers), we bought a CD burner to make free sample (and the CD burner doesn’t work), we bought a sheet and spraypaint to make a banner, and we just hung out. Working the 1-800-SUICIDE booth was a lot of fun.
ANYWAY… SHOW TIME…
We finally reconvene inside the Warped Tour after flashing our passes that look like Warped Tour passes. I use some paper and make a giant sign that says:
“ITS STILL TIME TO ROCK AND ROLL. THE ARROGANT SONS OF BITCHES unOFFICIAL POST-SHOW PARKING LOT DANCE PARTY.” That’s right kids, playing parking lots on our national tour. As we’re promoting there is a giant cloud starts coming our way. Fuck me.
We run outside during AFI, grab our van and our generator and set everything up as soon as possible. A little drizzle. Not a big deal. We start Kill The President and hell comes from the sky. GUSTING WINDS, dare I say, GALES. Starts blowing over all of our stuff. People come from all around to watch and we continue to rock out. The Dropkick Murphy’s are taken off the stage due to weather. We continue to play. All the microphones fall and my shit falls over. I stand on some cement platform and just spin my guitar and scream. Mike plays his drums as they’re falling into him. Bove’s bass rig starts blowing away. Math can barely hold up the tent. Sean plays trombone while trying to stop his hat from flying away. It was without a doubt the most kamikaze and awesome show we’ve ever done. Three songs were all we could do… we packed up our stuff in record time. JT grabbed a bar of soap and started showering in the rain, which after our performance, turned from monsoon to sunshower. Thanks, God.
The rest of us showered at a Flying J. We told them we were with the Warped Tour. They gave us a group discount. AWESOME? AWESOME. Lots of driving gets done. I don’t even know what day of the week it is. Anyway, we took forever at the Flying J and we REAL nervous about making it to the Warped Tour on time the next day? What happened the next day… coming soon… in the next installment of Holy Shit We’re On The Famous Punk Rock Tour.
6.19.2003
California 5: The End of Fucking California
So we're done. We drove 300 miles back in the opposite direction to Oakland to see a baseball game with Mike Park and now we're driving 600 miles to play in the parking lot of the Warped Tour.
Last night we pulled off the road to a Motel 6 that was outside Cowschwitz... the slaughtering field for cows... the place where cows go to die and cover the earth in cow shit before they die. We got a very cheap room and never stopped to wonder why because it was obviously due to the disgusting rancid smell outside. Anyway, we slept, we woke up, i didn't get to go see the price is right and if you know me you know that not seeing the price is right is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. its been a dream for my entire life. my dreams. gone. gone. gone. gone. then we started the massive drive.
when you have a massive drive, you also need to fill up your tank with gasoline. we pulled over at the gas station and said "five minutes everyone" because i wasn't going to be late to oakland because of laziness because i COULD HAVE been late because i was busy winning prizes on the price is right. so we all go in, do our shit, pump our shit, but do we all leave? Apparently not. We got a phone call from the lady at Exxon about 15 minutes down the road
- Hi, you left Joe here.
- No, he's driving
- Joe is here and said you left him here
- WE LEFT BOVE! OH MY GOD!
:::inside jokes
usually we scream "kevin" to make sure that everybody is in the van, like in home alone, remember mr. culkin. anyway, today we decided that the home alone joke was getting old, tiresome and not funny at all. so we didn't do the kevin check. and go figure, for the first time ever, WE LEFT SOMEONE BEHIND! BOVE! It was really funny. Apparently he saw us pulling away and threw a soda at the van. After he saw us keep driving he thought it was a joke, ha ha leaving bove at the gas station. But then he saw us get on the interstate. And start driving quickly away from him. Then he tried calling people but almost all of our cell phones were dead. He planned on taking a plane home if we didn't come back by 5:00 and having Math play bass for the rest of the tour as punishment for us being stupid.
Today was an interesting day. We've been travelling around to eat for the past couple of days. Today we went to the Asian Man Records Oakland A's game/barbecue. Wow. What a lot of fun. We hung out with Mike Park, the Asian Man Records people, a bunch of really nice people and ate for free. We gaff taped a microphone to the inside of the car speaker and hooked up our PA system outside of the van so we could crank some rock and roll. Eventually we cranked some ASOB songs and some people heard it and liked it. Then we watched the game and there was some kid who kept screaming like a velociraptor. It was awesome.
When we went on tour, watching a baseball game with one of the people who inspired me to keep playing music never was what i thought one of the stops would be. Was that sentence gramatically correct? Probably not. Now its time to go go go go to the warped tour and starve some more. Awesome, huh? Not quite.
So we're done. We drove 300 miles back in the opposite direction to Oakland to see a baseball game with Mike Park and now we're driving 600 miles to play in the parking lot of the Warped Tour.
Last night we pulled off the road to a Motel 6 that was outside Cowschwitz... the slaughtering field for cows... the place where cows go to die and cover the earth in cow shit before they die. We got a very cheap room and never stopped to wonder why because it was obviously due to the disgusting rancid smell outside. Anyway, we slept, we woke up, i didn't get to go see the price is right and if you know me you know that not seeing the price is right is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. its been a dream for my entire life. my dreams. gone. gone. gone. gone. then we started the massive drive.
when you have a massive drive, you also need to fill up your tank with gasoline. we pulled over at the gas station and said "five minutes everyone" because i wasn't going to be late to oakland because of laziness because i COULD HAVE been late because i was busy winning prizes on the price is right. so we all go in, do our shit, pump our shit, but do we all leave? Apparently not. We got a phone call from the lady at Exxon about 15 minutes down the road
- Hi, you left Joe here.
- No, he's driving
- Joe is here and said you left him here
- WE LEFT BOVE! OH MY GOD!
:::inside jokes
usually we scream "kevin" to make sure that everybody is in the van, like in home alone, remember mr. culkin. anyway, today we decided that the home alone joke was getting old, tiresome and not funny at all. so we didn't do the kevin check. and go figure, for the first time ever, WE LEFT SOMEONE BEHIND! BOVE! It was really funny. Apparently he saw us pulling away and threw a soda at the van. After he saw us keep driving he thought it was a joke, ha ha leaving bove at the gas station. But then he saw us get on the interstate. And start driving quickly away from him. Then he tried calling people but almost all of our cell phones were dead. He planned on taking a plane home if we didn't come back by 5:00 and having Math play bass for the rest of the tour as punishment for us being stupid.
Today was an interesting day. We've been travelling around to eat for the past couple of days. Today we went to the Asian Man Records Oakland A's game/barbecue. Wow. What a lot of fun. We hung out with Mike Park, the Asian Man Records people, a bunch of really nice people and ate for free. We gaff taped a microphone to the inside of the car speaker and hooked up our PA system outside of the van so we could crank some rock and roll. Eventually we cranked some ASOB songs and some people heard it and liked it. Then we watched the game and there was some kid who kept screaming like a velociraptor. It was awesome.
When we went on tour, watching a baseball game with one of the people who inspired me to keep playing music never was what i thought one of the stops would be. Was that sentence gramatically correct? Probably not. Now its time to go go go go to the warped tour and starve some more. Awesome, huh? Not quite.
6.18.2003
California 4: the emo diaries
I don’t know much about rock and roll, because according to me and my band and my record label and the band credit card rock and roll means driving from Northern California to Southern California (about 10 hours) to get to a show where none of the bands showed up and eat pizza for free then get told “I wouldn’t bother playing, no one’s really here” given about a 3% of the gas money that we had spent to get down there and then DRIVE BACK TO WHERE WE CAME FROM.
Today was a fucking depresser. For the first time on this tour I was riddled with headaches and my wonderful stomach problems came back to kick me in the ass. At some point JT came to the club and said “hey! My friend’s on tour with Jonah’s Onelinedrawing”….
HOLD ON. THIS WAS JT’S HOOKUP. HIS EGO IS SO GIANT THAT HE INTERRUPTED MY TIRADE TO SAY LET….
OK. He said he was sorry. Its alright now. He’s a nice guy.
Alright… now he’s gonna hold it against me for the next couple of days. JT, if you read this a few weeks from now, this is why I try to write alone while no one is looking.Tough love, eh?
Anyway, JT comes back from fucking nowhere and is just like “yeah, my friend is roadying (how does one spell this correctly? They don’t) for onelinedrawing.” Um… what? We sit around for a few hours before the promoter tells us that there really isn’t much point in playing…
Ok… at this point JT wants to destroy the laptop that I’m typing on because I’m talking shit about him. Jesus, JT. Lighten up!
So we’re just dicking around and JT I’m pretty sure said “lets play outside the show in the parking lot.” Little do ANY of us know that jonah was planning to play acoustically after the show ended and do a Q & A for his DVD. By the way, our DVD is not happening. So we start playing and the onelinedrawing parking lot and the show hasn’t ended yet AND another band has started playing in the place next door. Solution?
I saw flashes behind the giant piece of paper which was made up of four smaller pieces of paper with bold writing on it.
WAIT HERE. ROCK AND ROLL IS COMING SOON
I sat down on a broken merch bin with Joe sitting next to me with an acoustic guitar holding this in front of my face as kids left the show. If kids asked me anything I’d say “you know rock and roll? Its coming here soon.” Of course, like most cool ideas, it got old after a while and it looked like some weird artistic statement as people were leaving. So yeah, some people got some photos, and a bunch of people left because it took so long for us to actually start.
The band at the Attic finishes.
Jeff: “ROCK AND ROLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! 1-2-34”
Wow. I couldn’t believe how many people were enjoying themselves. They were most likely just waiting for jonah from onelinedrawing to come out and play some songs, but fucking, WOW. Didn’t expect that at all today after the shit that happened.
So yeah, kids. We opened for an “emo” superstar today in a parking lot. Jonah was a really nice guy and so were the people at that club. Not a total loss of a day. It all felt great. So, JT covers our asses once again.
I’m at the point in typing where my body is shutting down. My eyes are fucking drifting off… every word is starting to look like its spelled wrong. They’re all blending together. The only thing that is keeping me awake is reciting petty arguments verbatim for the world to see. I’d take it all out if I could but I can’t find the up arrow. Anyway, who knew that we’d be opening for hot emo acts, or even more oddly and Jonah said it, he opened for US. What a bizarre day. Time for more motels and driving.
I don’t know much about rock and roll, because according to me and my band and my record label and the band credit card rock and roll means driving from Northern California to Southern California (about 10 hours) to get to a show where none of the bands showed up and eat pizza for free then get told “I wouldn’t bother playing, no one’s really here” given about a 3% of the gas money that we had spent to get down there and then DRIVE BACK TO WHERE WE CAME FROM.
Today was a fucking depresser. For the first time on this tour I was riddled with headaches and my wonderful stomach problems came back to kick me in the ass. At some point JT came to the club and said “hey! My friend’s on tour with Jonah’s Onelinedrawing”….
HOLD ON. THIS WAS JT’S HOOKUP. HIS EGO IS SO GIANT THAT HE INTERRUPTED MY TIRADE TO SAY LET….
OK. He said he was sorry. Its alright now. He’s a nice guy.
Alright… now he’s gonna hold it against me for the next couple of days. JT, if you read this a few weeks from now, this is why I try to write alone while no one is looking.Tough love, eh?
Anyway, JT comes back from fucking nowhere and is just like “yeah, my friend is roadying (how does one spell this correctly? They don’t) for onelinedrawing.” Um… what? We sit around for a few hours before the promoter tells us that there really isn’t much point in playing…
Ok… at this point JT wants to destroy the laptop that I’m typing on because I’m talking shit about him. Jesus, JT. Lighten up!
So we’re just dicking around and JT I’m pretty sure said “lets play outside the show in the parking lot.” Little do ANY of us know that jonah was planning to play acoustically after the show ended and do a Q & A for his DVD. By the way, our DVD is not happening. So we start playing and the onelinedrawing parking lot and the show hasn’t ended yet AND another band has started playing in the place next door. Solution?
I saw flashes behind the giant piece of paper which was made up of four smaller pieces of paper with bold writing on it.
WAIT HERE. ROCK AND ROLL IS COMING SOON
I sat down on a broken merch bin with Joe sitting next to me with an acoustic guitar holding this in front of my face as kids left the show. If kids asked me anything I’d say “you know rock and roll? Its coming here soon.” Of course, like most cool ideas, it got old after a while and it looked like some weird artistic statement as people were leaving. So yeah, some people got some photos, and a bunch of people left because it took so long for us to actually start.
The band at the Attic finishes.
Jeff: “ROCK AND ROLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! 1-2-34”
Wow. I couldn’t believe how many people were enjoying themselves. They were most likely just waiting for jonah from onelinedrawing to come out and play some songs, but fucking, WOW. Didn’t expect that at all today after the shit that happened.
So yeah, kids. We opened for an “emo” superstar today in a parking lot. Jonah was a really nice guy and so were the people at that club. Not a total loss of a day. It all felt great. So, JT covers our asses once again.
I’m at the point in typing where my body is shutting down. My eyes are fucking drifting off… every word is starting to look like its spelled wrong. They’re all blending together. The only thing that is keeping me awake is reciting petty arguments verbatim for the world to see. I’d take it all out if I could but I can’t find the up arrow. Anyway, who knew that we’d be opening for hot emo acts, or even more oddly and Jonah said it, he opened for US. What a bizarre day. Time for more motels and driving.
6.17.2003
California 3
I don't really remember this morning very well. It's becoming kind of the same thing over and over again at certain points. You ask for the wake up call. You wake up for a couple of seconds then realize you showered the night before. Eventually everyone is mid-bagpacking and you wake up to find out that check out time is in like 10 minutes. You scramble to find what you'll probably forget in the room, you grab all the pillows from the Motel 6 and then you get out and start driving towards somewhere that you will either arrive at way too early or way too late. Today we went into San Francisco, grabbed a cheap breakfast and stopped by Amoeba Music which was the worst thing we could have done. The following will be updated tomorrow once I get confirmation on what was purchased.
JEFF: The Who - Tommy (vinyl)
Adolescents - S/T (vinyl)
Wire - Pink Flag
Big Black - Songs About Fucking
Blue Meanies - Full Throttle
Squeeze - don't remmeber the album title (vinyl)
Radiohead - OK Computer (vinyl)
Devo - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are DEVO
JT: Two Pansy Division records
BOVE: Cursive - The Ugly Organ (vinyl)
Neutral Milk Hotel - The Aeroplane Over The Sea (vinyl)
Don't really remember the rest, especially other buys, but I know we wasted too much money. Then we started driving to get JT and Dave fixed up. As you know if you've been reading, Dave has been sick in the throat and JT lost his hearing in one ear. Apparently Dave's uncle is a doctor and they decided to go up and get some free medical attention.
We had no idea where we were driving towards though for like an hour or so. Eventually I pulled off the road so we could play mini-golf and kill time... we ended up just not playing mini golf. I watched people take Dance Dance Revolution was too seriously.
We got to Dave's family's house which is three hours out of the way and up the windiest roads I've seen in my entire life. I'll be honest. Once again I'm tired and other people want to use this computer time. Maybe we'll have some shows soon... they all seem to be getting cancelled. Just kidding music industry types, we're very professional.
It was great pulling up to the house and being welcome with a blinking flashlight, a screaming dog, the most giant incredible stars I've seen in my entire life. Dave's family lives on the coast... in the "sticks" as they said repeatedly, and it was great... a fireplace, a warm meal of pasta and salad and beer.
JT got his ear irrigated... which means that Dave's aunt injected hydrogen peroxide into to his ear and ripped out chunks of wax... JT can hear again out of the other ear and he is sitting in the living room playing Kill The President on the piano singing like Johnny Cash... our family and friends have been so incredible to us in letting us stay in their places and feeding us. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go breathe some fresh air and look at stars until I fall asleep.
I don't really remember this morning very well. It's becoming kind of the same thing over and over again at certain points. You ask for the wake up call. You wake up for a couple of seconds then realize you showered the night before. Eventually everyone is mid-bagpacking and you wake up to find out that check out time is in like 10 minutes. You scramble to find what you'll probably forget in the room, you grab all the pillows from the Motel 6 and then you get out and start driving towards somewhere that you will either arrive at way too early or way too late. Today we went into San Francisco, grabbed a cheap breakfast and stopped by Amoeba Music which was the worst thing we could have done. The following will be updated tomorrow once I get confirmation on what was purchased.
JEFF: The Who - Tommy (vinyl)
Adolescents - S/T (vinyl)
Wire - Pink Flag
Big Black - Songs About Fucking
Blue Meanies - Full Throttle
Squeeze - don't remmeber the album title (vinyl)
Radiohead - OK Computer (vinyl)
Devo - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are DEVO
JT: Two Pansy Division records
BOVE: Cursive - The Ugly Organ (vinyl)
Neutral Milk Hotel - The Aeroplane Over The Sea (vinyl)
Don't really remember the rest, especially other buys, but I know we wasted too much money. Then we started driving to get JT and Dave fixed up. As you know if you've been reading, Dave has been sick in the throat and JT lost his hearing in one ear. Apparently Dave's uncle is a doctor and they decided to go up and get some free medical attention.
We had no idea where we were driving towards though for like an hour or so. Eventually I pulled off the road so we could play mini-golf and kill time... we ended up just not playing mini golf. I watched people take Dance Dance Revolution was too seriously.
We got to Dave's family's house which is three hours out of the way and up the windiest roads I've seen in my entire life. I'll be honest. Once again I'm tired and other people want to use this computer time. Maybe we'll have some shows soon... they all seem to be getting cancelled. Just kidding music industry types, we're very professional.
It was great pulling up to the house and being welcome with a blinking flashlight, a screaming dog, the most giant incredible stars I've seen in my entire life. Dave's family lives on the coast... in the "sticks" as they said repeatedly, and it was great... a fireplace, a warm meal of pasta and salad and beer.
JT got his ear irrigated... which means that Dave's aunt injected hydrogen peroxide into to his ear and ripped out chunks of wax... JT can hear again out of the other ear and he is sitting in the living room playing Kill The President on the piano singing like Johnny Cash... our family and friends have been so incredible to us in letting us stay in their places and feeding us. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go breathe some fresh air and look at stars until I fall asleep.
6.16.2003
California 1 + 2
Driving up to Stockton totally sucked. You figure, hey, driving through California, lots of fun, lots of interesting stuff to see, yeah yeah yeah yeah. No. You drive on the freeway, and you see nothing. You see exits with no numbers. No milemarkers. No way to determine where the hell you are on your fucking 500 600 700 800 mile trip. Just exit names. And no scenery. Just plains. Grass. Nothing interesting. Nothing beautiful. Just the same shit you’ve been seeing for hours and hours and hours.
Ok. Some things are interesting. We drove through a giant windmill area where we encountered about 10,000 giant windmills around each turn. It was scary as shit. They snuck up on you. Or maybe I was just sleep deprived. Later on when Dave was driving we passed through what is known as Cowschwitz, the land of the most cows I’ve ever seen, the smell was pungent enough to wake me up out of a dead sleep.
Interesting? Well. That’s California for ya. Not too interesting to look at from the windows of a speeding van on the freeway. We pulled up at the venue and the people running the show were probably the nicest that we’ve met so far. One gave me deodorant and one gave us endless stories about life on the road with real bands. Wait, we’re a real band. I keep forgetting.
Our first all ages show in a really long time… and for some reason we do not get as good a reaction as we get at the 21 and over crowd. Stupid, huh? Crazy kids. Anyway, we played our set then got ready for our day off.
We drove to meet up with Lila, and old friend of JT, and Mike, her boyfriend. In San Francisco we had a few problems when we were supposed to stay at Mike’s house. As we were trying to find a place to stay, we realized we were in a bad area when we were accosted for heroin purchasing and not left alone until a cop started to comb the area. So, hmmmm, do we park the van with a cash box full of cash, a TV in plain view, a massive DVD collection, a playstation and a computer in a place where it is certain that it will be burglarized? No. JT, Bove and I stay in San Francisco and the rest of the crew went to a Motel 6 an hour outside of town. We plan to meet up in the morning
rougly 6:00 am
- what?
- Hey, Jeff, its Dave. We’re getting the motel the next day because we can check in at 5:30.
- What about us?
- We all need to sleep, we’ll be in there when we wake up.
- Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
- We need to sleep, dude.
- You’re fucking leaving us here. Fuck you. Fuck you.
- Well, I don’t…
- Go fuck yourself. (click)
Apparently there were problems with the Motel 6 chain. Liars. Thieves. Et cetera. Maybe that’s why we’re stealing money from them as we speak. Or as I speak. Whatever.
Fuck the tour diary today. It was a great day for me in San Francisco… we ate burritos, went to record stores and just hung out for a while. Cleared my head, man.
Funny story, a dog ate JT’s burrito while we were there. Unfunny story, the entire ride back to the motel Math was talking about eating ass.
I suggest that if anyone has the chance, go to fucking San Francisco ‘cause its really nice there. Alright I’m done for today.
Driving up to Stockton totally sucked. You figure, hey, driving through California, lots of fun, lots of interesting stuff to see, yeah yeah yeah yeah. No. You drive on the freeway, and you see nothing. You see exits with no numbers. No milemarkers. No way to determine where the hell you are on your fucking 500 600 700 800 mile trip. Just exit names. And no scenery. Just plains. Grass. Nothing interesting. Nothing beautiful. Just the same shit you’ve been seeing for hours and hours and hours.
Ok. Some things are interesting. We drove through a giant windmill area where we encountered about 10,000 giant windmills around each turn. It was scary as shit. They snuck up on you. Or maybe I was just sleep deprived. Later on when Dave was driving we passed through what is known as Cowschwitz, the land of the most cows I’ve ever seen, the smell was pungent enough to wake me up out of a dead sleep.
Interesting? Well. That’s California for ya. Not too interesting to look at from the windows of a speeding van on the freeway. We pulled up at the venue and the people running the show were probably the nicest that we’ve met so far. One gave me deodorant and one gave us endless stories about life on the road with real bands. Wait, we’re a real band. I keep forgetting.
Our first all ages show in a really long time… and for some reason we do not get as good a reaction as we get at the 21 and over crowd. Stupid, huh? Crazy kids. Anyway, we played our set then got ready for our day off.
We drove to meet up with Lila, and old friend of JT, and Mike, her boyfriend. In San Francisco we had a few problems when we were supposed to stay at Mike’s house. As we were trying to find a place to stay, we realized we were in a bad area when we were accosted for heroin purchasing and not left alone until a cop started to comb the area. So, hmmmm, do we park the van with a cash box full of cash, a TV in plain view, a massive DVD collection, a playstation and a computer in a place where it is certain that it will be burglarized? No. JT, Bove and I stay in San Francisco and the rest of the crew went to a Motel 6 an hour outside of town. We plan to meet up in the morning
rougly 6:00 am
- what?
- Hey, Jeff, its Dave. We’re getting the motel the next day because we can check in at 5:30.
- What about us?
- We all need to sleep, we’ll be in there when we wake up.
- Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
- We need to sleep, dude.
- You’re fucking leaving us here. Fuck you. Fuck you.
- Well, I don’t…
- Go fuck yourself. (click)
Apparently there were problems with the Motel 6 chain. Liars. Thieves. Et cetera. Maybe that’s why we’re stealing money from them as we speak. Or as I speak. Whatever.
Fuck the tour diary today. It was a great day for me in San Francisco… we ate burritos, went to record stores and just hung out for a while. Cleared my head, man.
Funny story, a dog ate JT’s burrito while we were there. Unfunny story, the entire ride back to the motel Math was talking about eating ass.
I suggest that if anyone has the chance, go to fucking San Francisco ‘cause its really nice there. Alright I’m done for today.
6.15.2003
Arizona
We rolled into Alicia [I don’t know her family’s last name so I will just replace it with the last name of summer movie blockbuster Matrix 2 megstar, Keanu Reeves] Reeves’ house and it was 100 something degrees outside… they say all this bullshit about dry heat, but fuck that. Heat is heat is heat is heat is heat is heat. The Reeves were extremely nice to us, Alicia’s parents made us some food, let us swim in their pool and drink their soda. We watched Old School on TV.
Alicia, Bove, Lisa and I went to the guitar shop in the middle of the day to fix my telecaster and saw a gem of a guitar… Danelectro U2 199something reissue with lipstick pickups for $150. I love cheap guitars, I love Danelectros so I told the guy at the store I would be back later with my credit card when I come to pick up my guitar. We ate some more peanut butter and jelly and then we went back to the guitar store to pick up my broken guitar and my new backup guitar. And the fucker fucking sold it. In like less than two hours. I think the guy didn’t like the cut of my gib. So I was pretty depressed and we ended up waiting like two or three hours for this guy to fix my guitar because I guess he was too busy selling guitars that I was reserving to fix it during the day.
Load in was at 7:30 I think? We got to Alicia’s house at around some time, I forget, but it was late. We sat down to eat pasta and Sean McCabe called me.
- Yes?
- Um… Alicia and Lisa can’t go to the show tonight. They’re ID’ing everyone… including band members.
- What?
- Math can’t get in.
- So what are we supposed to do?
- Well, Dave thinks you should pick up some colored pencils and I’ll chalk your ID.
- No.
- Well, you and Bove can come in for when we play but you have to leave immediately after that.
- Bummer.
Ridiculous, right? THEY WOULDN’T LET THE BAND IN THE CLUB. Once we played it was a really fun night. I decided that since there was a parking lot scene at this bar that I would play acoustically outside after our set for the kids who couldn’t get in and for our friends from Arizona who couldn’t get in and because I had to exit the bar immediately after playing. Once again, this went over terribly… not as terribly as last time, but come on. Doesn’t this sound like a really good idea all the time? Free acoustic show? Here’s the gist… no one is ever around the performance, so it just looks like me being an idiot playing songs to myself.
At this point I would just like to mention that we were extremely rude house guests. I won’t explain why, but we were and I’m sorry to the Sanchez family (Bove just gave me their last name) for causing any trouble. Anyone else who’s house we’re staying at… um… we’re nice friendly people. We just fuck up some times.
Anyway, after returning to the house at 5:00 AM when we planned to leave at 3:00 AM and the family was waiting up for us, and after I had to deny breakfast because we had to hit the road immediately, we left. Short story of it. I decided to take the giant drive to California because I’m an idiot. I start falling asleep, drank a giant cup of coffee and whoa… all of a sudden all the brown dusty mountains turned into green palm trees as we passed the state line to California. Then it turned back to brown dusty mountains after about 30 seconds.
By the way, JT stuck a Q-Tip in his ear too deep and he has lost his hearing entirely in his left ear since. Isn’t that shitty for him?
hey fellas... this is LONG overdue.
We did the overnight drive assuming that there would be something to do in New Mexico when we arrived in the morning. You know… take in the culture of another state, try to sell some CDs at local record stores, walk around not knowing where we are. Well, there was a trophy store and a Billy the Kid gift shop… and that was pretty much it. The man at the Billy the Kid gift shop said that Masilla is probably one of the most dead corners of the United States.
So we walked around and saw all the sites. The Billy the Kid gift shop. The trophy store. The gazebo. We all eventually reconvened at the van where I replaced my contact lenses, Sean read an entire book and JT poured water into an empty bottle of iced tea and used it to take a shower and shave and brush his teeth.
I woke up at some point and it was hot and sweaty outside. Math, Sean and Bove were at a restaurant called El Posta.
sean vs. the working class
sean: where is a restaurant?
Woman at store: well, there’s two restaurants… there’s [insert name here] and el posta.
Sean: well, which one’s good?
Woman: the food at [insert name here] is much better
Sean: I want a restaurant that will give us the true essence of New Mexico
Woman: that’s el Posta.
Math: Where’s the head shop?
The food was real good and pretty cheap. JT got diarrhea from it I believe, and I think some of us others had stomach problems too… whatever. There was a talking parrot in the restaurant. I said “Balls”, Sean giggles, then the parrot laughed. We were creeped out. The parrot said “Come here!” which was cool, but then it kept saying “come here” for about 5 minutes. We were scared it would eat us.
Show time. We met Sam from Liquid Cheese who was the nicest person ever, and his band was the greatest bunch of guys ever. I CAN NOT SAY ENOUGH ABOUT LIQUID CHEESE. They were totally nice and really really good. I broke the second guitar of the tour which sucks a whole lot. Sean and Dave proved once again tonight that they cannot spend one night without drinking and we have dubbed them the 80 proof horns because they’re alcoholics. Good to know.
Sean and Dave both bought shots for girls and demanded their money back to band members who those girls went off with… Sean at one point poured a cup of water on somebody’s head and then threw ice… damn alcoholics. Bottom line: New Mexico was a lot of fun, there were old people skanking and stuff which was cool. Liquid Cheese gave us more shout outs from stage than any band in the history of the world, and they rocked really hard and there were lots of hot girls and someone might have gotten head from one of them. Who could it be?
Joe was on driving patrol since the rest of us were either ready to pass out or inebriated and useless behind the wheel. We all did pass out and Joe was running extremely low on gas. Of course, we were in the middle of bumbleshitville New Mexico so… no gas stations. Eventually Joe managed to pull of into a gas station on a dirt road that was self serve… no attendants whatsoever, no lights just a gas pump, a credit card swipe and BATS? As Joe was trying to make a giant u-turn on this dirt road, there were a whole fuckload of orange cones blocking off the exit. He stepped out of the van and just starting throwing orange cones all over the place afraid that the bats which were circling overhead were going to attack him. All of this while everyone was asleep. Is he lying about the bats and the cones? I don’t know. JT and I were buried under all the pillows and blankets in the van.
At about 4:30 I said “are we stopping to eat?”. The response? “Yes.” What I heard? “Joe and Dave are already eating.” So I took my sleeping pills so I can go to bed. Turns out we were pulling in at Denny’s that very second. I was hungry so I stayed awake as long as I could so I could eat some greezy food. Bove, Dave, Joe and I were all sitting at the table saying that none of us could drive. Of course we all eventually agreed on Dave driving (he was sober at this point or at least it was reasonable to assume so) and after 25 hard core minutes of driving, he pulled into an Arby’s parking lot to take a nap for an hour. At 8:30 AM, Bove woke up and said “fuck it, I’ll drive.” So right now, it is about three hours earlier than it is at home because we are in Pacific Standard Time and we’re on our way to Arizona in the van. Yeeeeeyah.
We did the overnight drive assuming that there would be something to do in New Mexico when we arrived in the morning. You know… take in the culture of another state, try to sell some CDs at local record stores, walk around not knowing where we are. Well, there was a trophy store and a Billy the Kid gift shop… and that was pretty much it. The man at the Billy the Kid gift shop said that Masilla is probably one of the most dead corners of the United States.
So we walked around and saw all the sites. The Billy the Kid gift shop. The trophy store. The gazebo. We all eventually reconvened at the van where I replaced my contact lenses, Sean read an entire book and JT poured water into an empty bottle of iced tea and used it to take a shower and shave and brush his teeth.
I woke up at some point and it was hot and sweaty outside. Math, Sean and Bove were at a restaurant called El Posta.
sean vs. the working class
sean: where is a restaurant?
Woman at store: well, there’s two restaurants… there’s [insert name here] and el posta.
Sean: well, which one’s good?
Woman: the food at [insert name here] is much better
Sean: I want a restaurant that will give us the true essence of New Mexico
Woman: that’s el Posta.
Math: Where’s the head shop?
The food was real good and pretty cheap. JT got diarrhea from it I believe, and I think some of us others had stomach problems too… whatever. There was a talking parrot in the restaurant. I said “Balls”, Sean giggles, then the parrot laughed. We were creeped out. The parrot said “Come here!” which was cool, but then it kept saying “come here” for about 5 minutes. We were scared it would eat us.
Show time. We met Sam from Liquid Cheese who was the nicest person ever, and his band was the greatest bunch of guys ever. I CAN NOT SAY ENOUGH ABOUT LIQUID CHEESE. They were totally nice and really really good. I broke the second guitar of the tour which sucks a whole lot. Sean and Dave proved once again tonight that they cannot spend one night without drinking and we have dubbed them the 80 proof horns because they’re alcoholics. Good to know.
Sean and Dave both bought shots for girls and demanded their money back to band members who those girls went off with… Sean at one point poured a cup of water on somebody’s head and then threw ice… damn alcoholics. Bottom line: New Mexico was a lot of fun, there were old people skanking and stuff which was cool. Liquid Cheese gave us more shout outs from stage than any band in the history of the world, and they rocked really hard and there were lots of hot girls and someone might have gotten head from one of them. Who could it be?
Joe was on driving patrol since the rest of us were either ready to pass out or inebriated and useless behind the wheel. We all did pass out and Joe was running extremely low on gas. Of course, we were in the middle of bumbleshitville New Mexico so… no gas stations. Eventually Joe managed to pull of into a gas station on a dirt road that was self serve… no attendants whatsoever, no lights just a gas pump, a credit card swipe and BATS? As Joe was trying to make a giant u-turn on this dirt road, there were a whole fuckload of orange cones blocking off the exit. He stepped out of the van and just starting throwing orange cones all over the place afraid that the bats which were circling overhead were going to attack him. All of this while everyone was asleep. Is he lying about the bats and the cones? I don’t know. JT and I were buried under all the pillows and blankets in the van.
At about 4:30 I said “are we stopping to eat?”. The response? “Yes.” What I heard? “Joe and Dave are already eating.” So I took my sleeping pills so I can go to bed. Turns out we were pulling in at Denny’s that very second. I was hungry so I stayed awake as long as I could so I could eat some greezy food. Bove, Dave, Joe and I were all sitting at the table saying that none of us could drive. Of course we all eventually agreed on Dave driving (he was sober at this point or at least it was reasonable to assume so) and after 25 hard core minutes of driving, he pulled into an Arby’s parking lot to take a nap for an hour. At 8:30 AM, Bove woke up and said “fuck it, I’ll drive.” So right now, it is about three hours earlier than it is at home because we are in Pacific Standard Time and we’re on our way to Arizona in the van. Yeeeeeyah.
Texas… all of it
We woke up in the Motel 6, or at least I did around half past noon. Apparently since early on enough in the morning, people had been running back and forth from the bathroom throwing up. Math was taking 6 mile journeys on foot to the Ford dealer and back because he’s afraid to hitchhike.
Not much happened during the ride over. We finally found the Super Way but it wasn’t the superway. Make sense? No. Do you ever get the feeling that these tour diary entries are just the same old bullshit repeated over and over again with different words? Has everyone stopped reading by now? Especially the parents of Sean McCabe?
That’s right ladies and gentlemen, Sean McCabe fell in love at the show last night. IN LOVE. He fell in love so hard that he jumped up on top of some guardrail outside of the bar and started singing songs from Moulin Rouge, replacing the word “hero” with “beero” and proceeded to fall really hard, gash him arm open and fuck up his back hardcore. He refused to wipe up the blood for a while because “he wanted to impress the guys”.
The show was not great tonight… afterwards a lot of people were showing love but we got a pretty bad time slot (following up a white rap trio called skitlecrew), nobody thought we were going to be good until after we were done playing (then they said ‘wow, I came here for los skacarnes, I didn’t expect for you guys to blow me away). But that didn’t make much of a difference… the day was about 75% driving/eating and we lost lots and lots of money. So, that was the night. We met some really cool people at the bar and I’m sure it was just our night that was a bummer. I think it was Wednesday or something.
We had another billion hour drive that night… everyone passed out as I drove. Eventually I decided I wanted to listen to the new Radiohead again: bad idea for anyone who is driving and is tired. Needless to say we pulled over and I wrote most of this.
6.11.2003
Louisiana
So last night was the start of mass alcoholism and the beginning of the imposition of drinking rules and limits. There was sex, vomiting, fist fights, yelling fights, too much money spent, public disturbances, public urination and more vomiting. Who did what? What did who? That’s none of your fucking business. When you start talking about other people’s lives as if they’re your own you don’t have a life anymore.
Anyway, we show up to the show after a day of swimming, sleeping and Pulp Fiction at the motel and there aren’t too many people there. Turns out that there’s a Saliva show going on down the road. So we’re up against Saliva… if I could think of any of their singles I’d say the “______” guys, but I can’t. They sang that Spiderman song I think.
Looking for cigarettes we met up with a guy named Eric who repeatedly said that he was “THE last punk in Louisiana.” He was a nice guy, he introduced us to Boone’s Farm and encouraged all of us to drink as much as possible which I’m not sure if it was a good idea or not… well yeah, I am sure it was not.
The show was fanfanfantastic. There’s nothing to say about it except that we had a great time playing and everyone seemed to be having a good time as well. Will the promoter lent me his megaphone at the end of the set for a 15-minute long Piss Off rant. I just wanted to drop Will’s name. I broke my backup guitar pretty fucking bad… during “People Pops and Fudgesicles for the Hit Factory” one string snapped, then another string, then the neck went the other way and then I took it and started slamming it into the ground. Bove said he might be able to fix it.
Sets over. Enter the mass drinking I spoke of earlier, enter the fist fights, sex and vomiting. Et cetera. Et cetera.
Eventually we ended up back at the Motel 6. I sat by the pool alone for a while in the pouring rain just thinking about how cool it is that we’re in Louisiana and how much it sucks that I’m incapable of having a good time because I’m always making sure I don’t drink toooo much. Then I smoked a bible blunt, and called it a night. Finally smoked the bible blunt. Finally. Off to Houston.
So last night was the start of mass alcoholism and the beginning of the imposition of drinking rules and limits. There was sex, vomiting, fist fights, yelling fights, too much money spent, public disturbances, public urination and more vomiting. Who did what? What did who? That’s none of your fucking business. When you start talking about other people’s lives as if they’re your own you don’t have a life anymore.
Anyway, we show up to the show after a day of swimming, sleeping and Pulp Fiction at the motel and there aren’t too many people there. Turns out that there’s a Saliva show going on down the road. So we’re up against Saliva… if I could think of any of their singles I’d say the “______” guys, but I can’t. They sang that Spiderman song I think.
Looking for cigarettes we met up with a guy named Eric who repeatedly said that he was “THE last punk in Louisiana.” He was a nice guy, he introduced us to Boone’s Farm and encouraged all of us to drink as much as possible which I’m not sure if it was a good idea or not… well yeah, I am sure it was not.
The show was fanfanfantastic. There’s nothing to say about it except that we had a great time playing and everyone seemed to be having a good time as well. Will the promoter lent me his megaphone at the end of the set for a 15-minute long Piss Off rant. I just wanted to drop Will’s name. I broke my backup guitar pretty fucking bad… during “People Pops and Fudgesicles for the Hit Factory” one string snapped, then another string, then the neck went the other way and then I took it and started slamming it into the ground. Bove said he might be able to fix it.
Sets over. Enter the mass drinking I spoke of earlier, enter the fist fights, sex and vomiting. Et cetera. Et cetera.
Eventually we ended up back at the Motel 6. I sat by the pool alone for a while in the pouring rain just thinking about how cool it is that we’re in Louisiana and how much it sucks that I’m incapable of having a good time because I’m always making sure I don’t drink toooo much. Then I smoked a bible blunt, and called it a night. Finally smoked the bible blunt. Finally. Off to Houston.
6.10.2003
Tampa, Florida + 13 Hour Drive
Good morning? It was another allll niiiight and alllll afternooner. I don’t really even remember how the day started, but I believe it was with Franken Berry cereal. The night before Math dumped all of Dave’s laundry on top of him and eventually Dave’s laundry fell onto the floor where there was cat hair, Dave’s allergic to cat hair blah blah blah blah I slept through just about the rest of it except I kept hearing “I got pig knuckled!” all morning.
We were late today, but not THAT late to pick up Sean McCabe at the airport. The trailer has been “searched” twice in Florida if searched means
- What do you have in there?
- Instruments
- Oh. Carry on.
We got a call saying that the show at the bar that night, um, we were dropped off of it. Last minute kind of thing. Band travels from New York, fuck them, they’re not playing because we only want locals to play while people are boxing. We stopped by the (ugh) mall, to avoid rush hour traffic and to try and cell a few CDs to mall punks. We didn’t find any mall punks but we found some people who did buy our CD so we would leave them alone. “Somebody Wrote This Song Already” was blasting in a cigar shop in the mall. Awesome.
Some people went to go get cigars while Bove and I attempted to buy the new Radiohead before it actually came out. The guy at Sam Goody was really scared at selling it to us because… apparently record labels pay people who look like us to walk into stores and buy albums hours before they’re released and then fire the employees that sell those albums. The guy was cool though, he had just recently seen X somewhere and he told us about a hip record shop called Vinyl Fever which was about 10 minutes away.
We went to Vinyl Fever hoping to consign stuff. Nope, we live too far away. We wanted to do an in-store maybe. Nope, store closes in 45 minutes. Can I at least have the new Radiohead record? Yeah, sure. Special edition? Right on. We decided to do an acoustic performance outside the record store so people can see us, like us, and buy the CD. It was a good idea right? In lieu of a show not happening this is a good way to make up for it, right? No one gave a f-f-fuck. But it was fun playing.
Mitchell from Fang Shooey eventually showed up and invited us to his practice studio to hang out and play for a bunch of people. No people ever showed up, so we hung out, smoked, drank, went to Exxon, took a shit there, and then up and left.
We drove for a little bit and then stopped off at a Waffle House where Math and Sean’s pre-twenties powers combined made us look like the biggest New York assholes. Everyone was telling all sorts of rude jokes, making rude remarks, stealing waffles, hitting on our forty year old waitress. Dave at one point said to the waitress (about me) “he’s not saying anything funny tonight, usually he’s just as bad.” I replied “that’s because I have anal beads in my butt.” We also saw a TRUCK STOP WHORE who was totally fucking some trucker in the cab as we were leaving. That was awesome.
Then we went to Speedway. Ashley Associate was working. I believe she was extremely harassed by the delirious New Yorkers, but she was having fun with it. WE MADE A NEW FRIEND! We hung out speaking through a little hole in the window for about 20 minutes, buying cigarettes without identification. We tried paying for food in condoms. Ashley put her breast up to the window. She didn’t want to buy a CD, but we shared a moment through the little thing where you pass the money through, I held her hand and apologized for my behavior. Then I busted in her face.
THEN WE DROVE. So fucking far. After hundreds and hundreds of miles we were running low on gas. No problems, there are EXITS on the interstate, right? Bove and I waited 50 miles and all the rest stops had no gas stations or the gas stations were just not open. What the fuck? What the fuuuuck? We were very close to staying in a broken down van all night but then finally found a gas station that was open. There were bugs up the ass, like crazy amounts of bugs, but we got gas and bug spray and tried to sell a CD to the gas station attendant. At this point we have crossed time zones. Right now it is 1:52 central time. Cool, right?
As a test of willpower, I stayed awake through all of Sandinista! And made it all the way to Alabama. Driving across the ENTIRE panhandle. We switched over in Alabama and then sleeping seemed like a good idea to me. Things that they saw while they were driving: a chain gang, New Orleans and they drove through Mississippi.
When we got back here and I started writing this Dave started giving me shit because “I leave stuff out because I’m not awake when it happens.” Oh well, fuck that. I will say again, and for the last time, this is MY tour diary, what happens to me. I don’t care about anyone else in my band. I’m the singer. I’m the most important. Oh yeah, I’m in Louisiana. Wow. By the way, for all the mothers of the band reading this, I can attest that your son is passed out in a gutter right now with an STD. Sorry.
Good morning? It was another allll niiiight and alllll afternooner. I don’t really even remember how the day started, but I believe it was with Franken Berry cereal. The night before Math dumped all of Dave’s laundry on top of him and eventually Dave’s laundry fell onto the floor where there was cat hair, Dave’s allergic to cat hair blah blah blah blah I slept through just about the rest of it except I kept hearing “I got pig knuckled!” all morning.
We were late today, but not THAT late to pick up Sean McCabe at the airport. The trailer has been “searched” twice in Florida if searched means
- What do you have in there?
- Instruments
- Oh. Carry on.
We got a call saying that the show at the bar that night, um, we were dropped off of it. Last minute kind of thing. Band travels from New York, fuck them, they’re not playing because we only want locals to play while people are boxing. We stopped by the (ugh) mall, to avoid rush hour traffic and to try and cell a few CDs to mall punks. We didn’t find any mall punks but we found some people who did buy our CD so we would leave them alone. “Somebody Wrote This Song Already” was blasting in a cigar shop in the mall. Awesome.
Some people went to go get cigars while Bove and I attempted to buy the new Radiohead before it actually came out. The guy at Sam Goody was really scared at selling it to us because… apparently record labels pay people who look like us to walk into stores and buy albums hours before they’re released and then fire the employees that sell those albums. The guy was cool though, he had just recently seen X somewhere and he told us about a hip record shop called Vinyl Fever which was about 10 minutes away.
We went to Vinyl Fever hoping to consign stuff. Nope, we live too far away. We wanted to do an in-store maybe. Nope, store closes in 45 minutes. Can I at least have the new Radiohead record? Yeah, sure. Special edition? Right on. We decided to do an acoustic performance outside the record store so people can see us, like us, and buy the CD. It was a good idea right? In lieu of a show not happening this is a good way to make up for it, right? No one gave a f-f-fuck. But it was fun playing.
Mitchell from Fang Shooey eventually showed up and invited us to his practice studio to hang out and play for a bunch of people. No people ever showed up, so we hung out, smoked, drank, went to Exxon, took a shit there, and then up and left.
We drove for a little bit and then stopped off at a Waffle House where Math and Sean’s pre-twenties powers combined made us look like the biggest New York assholes. Everyone was telling all sorts of rude jokes, making rude remarks, stealing waffles, hitting on our forty year old waitress. Dave at one point said to the waitress (about me) “he’s not saying anything funny tonight, usually he’s just as bad.” I replied “that’s because I have anal beads in my butt.” We also saw a TRUCK STOP WHORE who was totally fucking some trucker in the cab as we were leaving. That was awesome.
Then we went to Speedway. Ashley Associate was working. I believe she was extremely harassed by the delirious New Yorkers, but she was having fun with it. WE MADE A NEW FRIEND! We hung out speaking through a little hole in the window for about 20 minutes, buying cigarettes without identification. We tried paying for food in condoms. Ashley put her breast up to the window. She didn’t want to buy a CD, but we shared a moment through the little thing where you pass the money through, I held her hand and apologized for my behavior. Then I busted in her face.
THEN WE DROVE. So fucking far. After hundreds and hundreds of miles we were running low on gas. No problems, there are EXITS on the interstate, right? Bove and I waited 50 miles and all the rest stops had no gas stations or the gas stations were just not open. What the fuck? What the fuuuuck? We were very close to staying in a broken down van all night but then finally found a gas station that was open. There were bugs up the ass, like crazy amounts of bugs, but we got gas and bug spray and tried to sell a CD to the gas station attendant. At this point we have crossed time zones. Right now it is 1:52 central time. Cool, right?
As a test of willpower, I stayed awake through all of Sandinista! And made it all the way to Alabama. Driving across the ENTIRE panhandle. We switched over in Alabama and then sleeping seemed like a good idea to me. Things that they saw while they were driving: a chain gang, New Orleans and they drove through Mississippi.
When we got back here and I started writing this Dave started giving me shit because “I leave stuff out because I’m not awake when it happens.” Oh well, fuck that. I will say again, and for the last time, this is MY tour diary, what happens to me. I don’t care about anyone else in my band. I’m the singer. I’m the most important. Oh yeah, I’m in Louisiana. Wow. By the way, for all the mothers of the band reading this, I can attest that your son is passed out in a gutter right now with an STD. Sorry.
6.09.2003
Naples, Florida
If I have one suggestion for bands that are planning to tour: do not involve hardcore video gaming. Since the playstation installation and the stay at Adam Geller's fine house where we can play video games on a huge TV there have been more fights than the last week altogether. No one wants to sit in the front of the van, no one wants to sleep, no one wants to leave, everyone wants to get back early to play more video games. So don't fucking bring them.
We got out relatively less late then usual, the exit was delayed by video games. We drove to the show down this long road called Alligator Alley. I've never heard of it before but its like 80 miles of just one straight road that has no exits... no nothin'. Just water on both sides, kind of a swamp, apparently alligators used to crawl in the middle of the road and you'd drive over them.
We played at a skate park today and it was totally fucking awesome. We weren't allowed to curse so we did our best not too even though I dropped one or two around the time of "Piss Off"... Naples was just really great to us today. We mastered the art of cheap eating as I bought both dinner and breakfast for tomorrow for less than two dollars. Its fuckin' 4:30, we gotta get up early tomorrow. Nothing to talk about today except for a show that was fuckin' great. Thanks to anyone who came down to it today, the guys in 33 West and Keepsake and the local band (i forgot your name, I'm very sorry) were all extremely nice and fun to be around. I also tried to buy the skate shop owner's daughter's longboard off of her for like five bucks. I think the woman there got very angry with me. I think JT is trying to die on stage every night. Isn't that punk?
Oh yeah, it was really hot today. Abnormally hot. SO hot. I thought I missed the heat but today I remembered how shitty hot weather can be. REALLY shitty. Anyway, its off to bed. Talk to you tomorrow, perhaps it'll be slightly more interesting.
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