Monday, February 16, 2009

The way to Baton Rouge is through the Anus. Capital "A".

Some of you may or may not know that I play in a rock n roll band.... wait let me say that again... AH FOOKING RACK AN RAWL BAND MAN! There are several perks to this occupation yet the cons come all too often when you least expect it. On this given weekend. We had two show to play. One in Baton Rouge and one in New Orleans the next day. To make my brain from exploding I will, like any other lazy American put it in a list.


[click the image to enlarge it to all of its glorious splendor]
Marcus. His name is Marcus. This guy... my god. It wasnt even 8 o'clock. This guy had a full cup of whiskey. And he was break dancing. He was telling jokes that didn't even make sense and would INSIST THAT WE SHOULD FUCKING START PLAYING MUSIC IMMEDIATELY! CAUSE HE WANTED TO FUCKING ROOOOOOOOOOOOCK! So, I figured out the movie function on my camera and I was so pissed off at myself. I thought I recorded a shit load of awesome material that he was doing but apparently I am fucking retarded and only got some ramblings coming from that thing he called a mouth. Something about pickles and wanting people to be happy or some dumb fucking shit. Don't worry... I am laughing at him. YOU ARE COVERED IN TATTOOS! YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSE TO SHOW EMOTION YOU FUCK!

Shit storms ABOUND MATEYS! Complications filled the night as we realized the band that was playing before us were a slew of dicks who listen to Jock Jams and huff paint in between their dick measuring. We also soon realized that for sure the people who came to see them would leave immediately once the band was done playing rip-off Red Hot Chili Pepper songs. Oh, and their name was Canvas Red... they fucking sucked. I hated them so much I don't want to even describe them beyond using the word "suck". I always make it a rule to not listen to bands that have numbers or a color in it [black is the absence of color so all you people can go fuck yourself]. I.E: 311, Blink 182, Vendetta Red, Simply Red, Blue October. You get the point. Arbitrary Word + Color = Shitty Band.

This was our crowd.
3. The Show
Our manager, a couple, and the lead singer of the first band[Part Bear... awesome] who played before Shit Colors. The fucking sound guy didn't even stick around to hear us. I guess people who live in Baton Rouge really do have to drown their sorrows in alcohol. They can't even stand to see good music. After we were done, we found the lead singer of Shit Colors and threw our beer bottles at that fuck and dislocated his jaw [Oh yeah, his name was Chance. I bet he likes cock]. Chance in his little black shirt and his red tie. He looked like he was auditioning for Interpol but then he realized he had no talent and had spiky blond hair and was wearing baggy blue jeans. I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to look in the mirror pensively, go to his parent's closet and grab Pa-Pa's shotgun and paint the fucking walls red with what little brain he seemed to have. That would look like a good painting. Get it. Canvas red. Cause that's his band's name. Needless to say, we booked it after that. Of course though. There were some good moments. All coming from Part Bear. They had this country pop rock thing going on but it the music was far more inventive than saying something as frivolous as "Country Pop Rock". We joked around, got some food in New Orleans, drank some bear [ha... i mean beer]. From the way they talked though... it really did sound like they wanted to "drank sum bear".

I didn't know Zach Galifianakis had a rock band.

(from l to r): Mike, Andy, Grey [not Zach]

Oh yeah.... played a show in New Orleans with Part Bear as well. Fuck you if you didn't show up. Get the story from somebody else cause I don't want to fucking talk to you. Cock.


  1. Marcus is wearing a fucking dwarves tshirt... AWESOME!