Really? Only seventy-five bucks?
We're at Daniel's very empty house right now, showering up and getting ready to head back up to New England for our New Hampshire show. Being unsupervised at this house is proving a bit tempting, since his mom looks and sounds like a post-fourth season Carmela Soprano, only hotter and younger.
When we were getting out of the van last night, Daniel's mom was like, "Were you boys smoking weed out there?" and we were all, "No, we don't have any." She then disappeared for a minute and brought us a Ziploc bag full of kind bud. We totally smoked it and started a band called the Melvins.
Both the Jersey and the Taunton shows were fun, if by "fun" I mean "totally sweet." Okay attendance but not so much merch purchase, which, when combined with a Skittle and a smile, will get us approximately nuffink.
On the way to Taunton, I discovered that Dan would let me do a slew of humiliating sexual things to him for bargain basement prices. Doing pushups while I jerk off and comment on how ripped he is? Thirty bucks.
Last night's show was drunk and debaucherous, which is the way we like it. We parked the van illegally so bandmates could visit the fabled Grease Trucks of New Brunswick, and while they were parked with me sitting inside and smoking, a drunk girl crawled into the van to use my lighter and ended up crying, telling me that her brother was going to Iraq. "I'm sorry," I said. "Take off your shirt."
Dan playing drunk is like giving meth to a kodiak.
It was lovely to have seen our TPOG pals again and even lovelier to make out with their girlfriends while they were loading. Jay kay.
I ate a muffin this morning. My stomach didn't recognize it since it wasn't Burger King.
Another house show tonight, which should be fun. The N.H. kids promised us a dance party a year and a half ago and didn't deliver, so there better be some sweet jams and brew and suds and stuff a-waitin' for us.
When we were getting out of the van last night, Daniel's mom was like, "Were you boys smoking weed out there?" and we were all, "No, we don't have any." She then disappeared for a minute and brought us a Ziploc bag full of kind bud. We totally smoked it and started a band called the Melvins.
Both the Jersey and the Taunton shows were fun, if by "fun" I mean "totally sweet." Okay attendance but not so much merch purchase, which, when combined with a Skittle and a smile, will get us approximately nuffink.
On the way to Taunton, I discovered that Dan would let me do a slew of humiliating sexual things to him for bargain basement prices. Doing pushups while I jerk off and comment on how ripped he is? Thirty bucks.
Last night's show was drunk and debaucherous, which is the way we like it. We parked the van illegally so bandmates could visit the fabled Grease Trucks of New Brunswick, and while they were parked with me sitting inside and smoking, a drunk girl crawled into the van to use my lighter and ended up crying, telling me that her brother was going to Iraq. "I'm sorry," I said. "Take off your shirt."
Dan playing drunk is like giving meth to a kodiak.
It was lovely to have seen our TPOG pals again and even lovelier to make out with their girlfriends while they were loading. Jay kay.
I ate a muffin this morning. My stomach didn't recognize it since it wasn't Burger King.
Another house show tonight, which should be fun. The N.H. kids promised us a dance party a year and a half ago and didn't deliver, so there better be some sweet jams and brew and suds and stuff a-waitin' for us.
posted by tgrh. at 8:14 AM
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