I Guess We’ll Just Go With Plan C, Then
Booking a show all by yourself in a city you’re not from can be like giving a starved cat a bath in ice water. Either the bands don’t get back to you, or they’re on tour, or their drummer is sick, or they’re opening for Holy Grail that week and simply don’t want to waste their time with you. You usually have to settle for the cream of the crap. Well, let me start off by saying that our show in Portland was not one of those shows. I can’t believe we got both CHRISTIAN MISTRESS and THE GUILD to play with us. Both these bands are hot shit, know how to party, and deserve at least a moment your time right fucking now. So stop reading this and go check them out. Also, a fine dining experience can be Chili-Mac and 2 Buck Chuck. If your awesome friend is a wine broker she’ll bring some good shit, too.
Is This Where Kurt Cobain Bought Four Loko?
I think the streets of Seattle were drawn up by a blind Eskimo, but whatever. We played at the Funhouse and it was a huge party. Asses shook, heads banged. THRONES killed it. Nothing really of note other than that it was a great show all around, well attended and fun. After some nice conversation with Joe Preston in the parking lot we booked it for Missoula.
This Song Is About Having A Session With Your Mom In A Cave While She’s Pregnant With Your Sister And Hyperventalates And Then You Choke Her up Against The Wall With Your Dog In The Room
Yippie-Yi-Yo-Kai-Yay, mother fucker. We played a kick ass basement show at The Lab in Missoula, Montana. Cramped like Ian’s sweet virgin ass, sweaty, sticky, mice ran about, but that’s where the roots are. However, I must insist in all seriousness to the kids out there that when in a small virgin basement butthole, despite how strong the urge to mosh is, please keep in mind that the band you’re watching needs the equipment their using to stay in one piece. It works less-well broken and there isn’t much time or cash for repairs when on the road. Just don’t push your friend as hard as you fucking can into the singer’s bass, capisce? Other than that mishap everyone was rad as hell and we had a killer time. Check out GREEN SICKNESS. They played after us, thank the Gods.
You Guys like Game Of Thrones, Physics, AND Magic The Gathering? Y’all Some Cracka Ass Crackas
Remember that movie SLC Punk? Remember the Mormons and all that shit about the golden underpants and the invisible tablets and inheriting your own planet when you die? Remember how their basketball team is called The Jazz in a city with no black people? (Even their all-time star player is a white guy.) Well, forget about all that crap for a minute. Our show in Salt Lake City was great, no question (unless you ask about the bass). The opening band VISIGOTH destroyed it and the Gods must be damned for putting them on before us. Eric’s bass kept cutting out during our set because it was broken from the incident in Missoula. The tour’s future was up in the air. Defending Good Times is a four man job and although it would be a valiant last stand with just three, it’s all or nothing. Luckily, Utah just opened it’s first D.O.G.T. chapter. Gypsyhawk was sick, but Jameson and the boys in Visigoth had the medicine. Beers, joints, and jams fixed the mood, solder fixed the bass. It was an especially good night.