I won't write about the shows anymore only if something interesting happened.
It's going colder every day and I'm really looking forward to go to Fargo, ND.
today somebody offered to play at the after show party. G and Mr. Lawless decided to go for and have fun at night. the rest of us decided to go to the hotel and take it easy. we handed them a little of the backline, left them behind and this is how it started:
a 'normal' night of a ™ … (all after show at the hotel)
2:00am - phonecall one: 'hey, we forgot to take the instrument cables with us. can you come back little quick? answer: 'yea, sure…'
3:00am - phonecall two: 'hey, we forgot the pedal board. can you bring it to us? answer: 'nope!'
6:30am - phonecall three to six or so: 'hey, we can't find the hotel, rulps… please help us… or so. answer: no answer because I didn't pick up the phone. (btw they had the address)
they came back at 8:30am or so. that means they over slept and we were running late again.
PLEASE HANDLE YOUR BUTT… ;-)
here is Mr. Gesetzlos point of view...
...so we played this club in pontiac, michigan, and this place is big, 3 stories above ground building, and huge basement below, complete with laundry facilities, showers, a little office with time clocks and punch cards, the real deal, catered meal, cooked in-house, real professional... and we play to a hype crowd of reeally cute kids, i signed some girl's breast, sold some cd's, etc... and this kid's jocking us, he pays two of us to come out to this art gallery in detroit and perform, so we do it, take a cab which the kid paid for, and we get to this afterparty, party a la nO2, and dudes are roaming around this place straight outta eyedrum, and they're speaking the same language, giant blue balloons in their hands... some cute girls with red cups, purses, and we set up, play some of the noisiest shit they've ever heard, lucky for them... it gets so bad at one point the kid who laced all this up realizes people don't know what to think, so he stops us and asks me to play a straight beat so he might rap over it, which is exactly the point we should have got the hell outta there cuz it turned into some 8 mile type shit, mc's jocking the mic, repping prefuse, repping ben lawless, detroit, et al... and we're supposed to be the backing band for this shit, and then actually trying to leave is a complete nightmare, the kid took like 3 hours to get us a cab back, granted he did pay for all of this, cab fares, and some cash for playing, and though we declined the blue treats offered, we did receive some party favors... an amazing cab ride back with a gentleman by the name of Wilford Hardy, who sang some chilling gospel numbers, keeping us company, i actually cried... but upon arriving at the Crown Plaza Hotel, everything goes awry. G is totally drugged, what we don't know, but all he can manage to do is stare at the fresh floral centerpiece arrangement in the middle of the lobby, talking to them, laughing, wavering, while i try to check us in but there's some confusion as to whose name the rooms are booked under, the hotel had silver sun pickups, but we're prefuse73 and gaslamp killer and voices voices, but finally after a small eternity of like 15 minutes, we realize our room is booked under my name, who knew? Mr. Hardy had loaded all the equipment into the lobby himself so i took both carts up to our floor, dropped 'em off, went back down fro G, but as soon as he has to move in any direction other than standing and weaving, he goes limp. we just make it to the elevator when he actually collapses, body in the elevator, legs in the lobby, i get him in, get us up to our floor, and literally drag him by under his arms to the room, get him in, up on the bed, he falls off between the bed and the wall, laughing hysterically, i get him back up, then i get all the shit in the room (i think) and decide that since i haven't eaten anything substantial in quite a while, i went downstairs for a little breakfast, eat some eggs and potatoes with jalapenos and onion, smoke a cigarette, and go back to the room for a little shut-eye... when i wake up the next morning, my bag is missing, so i search frantically, holding up the van, i can't find it! anywhere! it has my camera, flash drive, and my notebooks of music, words, lyrics, notes, stuff i had been working since i was thirteen! i know it was in the lobby, i must have dropped it taking all the shit upstairs... after like four or five trips back and forth from the room to the lobby, looking everywhere, it's gone!... i go back up and look one last time in the room and good thing i did, G's wallet was on the floor between the bed and the wall right where he had fallen the night before! saved his day. all was not lost. i smoked one last cigarette, left my information with the receptionist, got in the van and left Pontiac...
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