Brings me and my buddy Katmandu together on this drizzly night en-route to rehearsal, he picked me up in his blandly colored classically eighties jalopy, we swiftly filled the vehicle with sound equipment, booze and ill natured devices with which to light and intake elicit medically obtained organic substance.
thee vehicle was packed and the doors were squeezed to a close. People often scuff at me over me use of booze and other such such’es and things. I know you don't drink and drive or drive and drink or any other variation of these acts, but Katmandu has himself and American driving license and he owns his own vehicle and so when I passenger with him I do as the rules require, besides the trip ahead was to be a long one, on account of my recent relocation away from the beach and into the woods. We were on our way to Nixon's hometown our boom stick man decided his home would be the best location for the racket, which sounded good to us since we had hopes of perhaps also wasting some time on a new project for use at a blues night held at a booze serving burger joint, we're calling it the river raft boys, or possibly the river rat boys, hopes are high.
On the road we enjoyed well chilled solid east coast cheapie style beer and a really fine strain of greens it was a good trip though definitely long.
We got to the pirate ship on the hill and went about un-loading and setting up and returning some long sense borrowed stuff I had used in the garage for the shows, we had a smoky conversation over a few bowls worth of devils lettuce. the boom stick guy showed off his new turtle we poked fun of course, this guy’s been rescuing animals left and right he now has an overly wound up Chihuahua and an emotionally crippled Chihuahua AND an abandoned turtle not of the teenage, mutant, or ninja variety, but rather of the “red slider” type whatever that is.
We finally got down to it everything went dully well, we didn’t even try at the turnstile set for fear we would do it well. We didn't get around to the blues project since we had to take our leave while Katmandu was “feeling it” .
On our journey back we found ourselves having to cope with terrible night drivers you know the sort, don't signal to change lanes keep next to you when you try and change lanes follow you with their noses right up inside your ass with there high beams on nearly fusing with you in a merging lane ’cos they just absolutely have to be in front of you. God damn sons of bitches your making me spill my drink.
(this was February fifth 2010)
