Thursday… played with Ludicra. The night was fine, minus my truck not going up hills and the smelly hobo clowns dancing at the show. Yes, hobo clowns… no, there was no mirth involved. Just stink. Send out the clowns.
Friday, saw Dawn of the Dead. Not bad… heads blew up, zombies ate people… no complaints here.
Saturday… my truck makes its final gasp as I’m picking up Ludicra’s guitarist and singer in SF. Irony of ironies… some guy had just offered to buy the truck off of me maybe an hour before, as is. I should’ve taken the offer. My lovely woman Keri took us to the show (I’m that guy) and we played. The stage was rushed. At least five fistfights broke out. One guy we kind of knew ended up punching our closer friend and he got whupped but good and ended up crashing through a plate glass window. Blood was everywhere. I love saying that. Blood was everywhere. Drank at our guitarists house in Santa Cruz while telling the Germans we played with not to throw us in the ovens. I don’t think they thought it was funny.
Got picked up on by two homeless guys this week. Man, I still got the ol’ charm.
M.D.I.Why. the art, gear, music, filth, depravity of Ross Sewage