Iowa City, who knew?

Dear Iowa,

I have a confession to make.

I didn't think you were going to be this cool.
I guess I expected more.... corn.

and less.....interesting people.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to insult you,
you are a cool state, and I underestimated you.

The Indian dude I met at the Q bar said last night,
"I'm usually the only brown person in the room,
but the people are very friendly"

So true.
The people are friendly,
mostly white, but very friendly.

Especially awesome is your Iowa City.

I had a great time at the Q Bar,
the crowd was cool, the girls were pretty,
the beer was a dollar, and the Hello Dave
show was fantastic.

I just want to thank you,
Iowa, and all of your people,
for making me feel welcome.

I hope to see you again in April.

-p

Fuck the Pub II

Last night was an experience to be remembered,
but first, to be written about.

Kristen and I showed up at the Pub II in Normal, IL
to play a 3 hour show with a 2.5 hour drive for 200 dollars.

cool.
that's the business.
we don't make complaints
about the drive, or the money,
or the lifting of heavy shit,
or the fact that the stage at Pub II
is held up by cases of empty beer bottles.

yeah, that's right, beer bottles.

What I did need to speak up about,
was the ten foot TV screens behind the "stage"

4 of them.

approximately 320 square feet of TV.

not cool.

So I cordially asked how we could
go about getting the TVs turned off.

"um.... well, we can shit off the middle one... I guess"

Great!

only 240 feet of tv, that's perfect...

There is one thing I have learned,
you can't compete with two chicks making
out or televisions. If girls start making out,
you stop singing your song and you watch,
while everyone else does the same.

With TVs, even my eyes start to get distracted,
and I'm playing the fucking songs.

It's a hopeless battle,
and I'll admit,
it is one of my few pet peaves.

(list of pet peaves now includes, Maggie Speaks, Elevation, and TVs during shows)

The bouncer sent me to the bartender.

I told him, "we just want to give you a good show, we drove 2.5 hours to be here,
all we want is 3 hours without the giant tvs behind us.. please?"

"Oh... well, we've never done that before, so... no, we can't"

"you're serious...?"

"yeah, this is a sports bar."

I see,
a sports bar that pays 200 dollars
for a band to play.
Why didn't they pay Ricky Henderson
to come give a speech?

Fucking idiots.

So,
we took the stage,
we gave it our all,
pulled out all the stops,
and I sang song after song
about how much I hate the fucking TVs.

I got the audience as worked up as I could,
hit them with all the hits,
got them riled by singing about how
the man behind the bar refuses to let them
enjoy a rock and roll show for one night.

I asked them,
"do you want these TVs on?"

" NO!!!"

"do you want them to turn them off?"

"YES!!!"

but still,
nothing.

Like Don Mclean's marching band,
they refused to yield.

That is when I started the songs about
taking a shit on Pub II after the show,
and about the old, bald, fat, idiot of a manager.

Maybe I crossed the line,
but they drew first blood with their
complete lack of intelligence and basic respect
for live music.

I hit the audience hard with 50 Cent is a Pussy.

I stopped, and said,
"are you guys having a good time?"

"YEAH!"

"do you wanna hear more music?"

"hell YEAH!"

"well, we are going to stop until they turn these TVs off,
so if you want us to keep playing, talk to the bar,
they won't listen to us."

Then I stopped playing,
and started packing up my shit.

4 songs into a 3 hour set.

We were done.

I almost gave up and gave in.

But I thought, if I keep playing,
I will be that guy who kept complaining about the TVs.

But, if I walk out,
I will be the guy who told Pub II
to suck his dick, and then took a dump
on Pub II's wall while finger banging
Pub II's mom.

That's the guy I want to be.
That's the Nice Peter way.

Fuck the Pub II,
we were out.

We packed up our shit,
and walked out.

Not before the manager
told me "fuck you, you're never playing here again."

as if I had to be told.

The homies from White Trashistan
and Delta Sigma Phi sprung into action.

Before the drums were packed away,
the show was being relocated
to the Frat house basement.

Kick ass.

We spread the word through the bar,
brought as many people as we could,
and took off.

Now comes phase two:

the greatest Nice Peter show ever.

We set up in the frat house basement,
they had a stage, speakers, lights,
the whole deal.

They also had a pledge class who knew
every word to every song.

Apparently it was part of their pledge rites
to sing "If You Really Love Me"
to different sorrorities.

Holy shit.

The crowd was cheering for feedback.

We gave them all we could
until my voice gave out, and they were
an amazing audience.

One dude got me high as a kite and made me pizza,
they took a collection and we came away with $245.

That's $45 more than we were getting at Pub II.

Bitches.

So, in conclusion,
Nice Peter will never play at Pub II again.

Nice Peter will not play with big screen TVs on during shows.

Delta Sigma Phi kicks ass.

It is not a matter of Diva or snottiness,
you do realize we played in a basement.

That's not the point,
the point is,
turn off the fucking TV
for a few hours and enjoy
some fucking music.
Be it me, or Dave Tamkin,
or White Trashistan, or anyone
else busting their ass to play for the people.

Give them the common courtesy of shutting
off the television. Or we will find you,
and we will shit on your terrible bar.

-p

baby steps

Finally.

At last.

...finally.

things are starting to happen.

little things,
so small you might
not even notice,
but I do.

My career,
is slowly,
but surely,
gaining momentum.

I know because the music
gains ground even
when I don't put in effort.

I can take a short break from playing shows,
and not look at my computer
but when I come back,
and there will be new CD orders,
new mailing list subscriptions,
new Myspace friends.

I've got a booking agent,
a publicist,
a video editor,
and homies all over the world
helping me with all sorts of things.

It's amazing,
when I stop and look.

Maybe its all the
Grey Goose this evening.

Either way,
I'm feeling sentimental.

I can look back a few months and
see little journal entries I wrote
about giving up.

It seems a bit ridiculous now.

Things are moving,
like a choo-choo train
on its third or fourth choo.

I'm touring pretty much full time,
I can't tell you how great that feels.

Today I made a new merch
booth with fancy lights,
oh so fancy.

As always,
none of this would
mean anything if weren't
for you out there reading
and listening and all that sweet stuff.

so thanks.
it's working,
at least a little bit.

-p

Truce?

I read in today's newspaper,
as I heard on yesterday's radio,
that a new audio tape of Osama Bin Laden
has been released by Al Jazeera to the public.

The tape has been authenticated
by the CIA, it is Osama's voice, and the
estimated time of recording is December
or perhaps even January.

I have not read the full transcript,
I should.

What I did read, and forgive me for speaking
without complete information, is that Osama
Bin Laden made references to a truce.

He made mention of a
"long term truce with fair conditions
that we adhere to. ... Both sides can enjoy
security and stability under this truce so
we can build Iraq and Afghanistan, which
have been destroyed by this war."

The White House spokesman's response?

"We do not negotiate with terrorists,
we put them out of business."

I wonder why?

Why can't we stop and consider a truce?

Osama made clear threats
that there will be more
acts of terrorism against
the United States if we do not
listen.

Osama Bin Laden does not really
make idle threats.
He is crazy, completely,
but he usually means what he says.

When Al-Queda made a similar
offer to European nations and England,
a truce if they pull out their troops,
England refused, and 50+ people died
in horrific explosions.

Let us remember that the US
started out as terrorists.
Small, unregulated militias
fighting against a powerful empire
that was taxing us and using our resources
for their own profit.

That is what we are doing to the Middle East.
We are using them, profiting from them,
muscling them around until they snap
and go crazy.

I don't fuck with crazy people,
and when they say, "hey, I'll stop
blowing up your family if you leave me alone"
I leave them alone.

Please consider that Osama Bin Laden has nothing
to gain from a truce, he is not trying to increase
his profits, or make more money from oil,
or keep his corporations rich.

He has proposed peace,
and our leaders will not even
listen, not even stop for one
moment to say "you know... this war Does suck,
and maybe we could end it"

They don't want to end it,
they have a lot to gain by being at war.
And they have a lot to lose from a truce.

The United States is so afraid to lose
a war that it started, instigated by a man
from a different country that they trained,
that they will continue to let our soldiers die.

Iraqi people blow themselves up.
Doesn't that tell you that they don't give
a fuck and will not stop until it is over?

What makes you think that you can put
people like that, "out of business"?

You can't, you cannot beat them.
You cannot win a war against the truly
desperate because they have nothing to lose
and will never give up.

And yet, when the truly desperate make an offer
of peace, we don't listen, not for one second.

Peace is not an option for our government.

I don't care how many people Osama Bin Laden killed,
it doesn't matter. He has done truly evil things,
and innnocent people have died. George Bush Sr.,
George W. Bush, even Bill Clinton, have all done
truly evil things, and innocent people have died,
they just cover it up better.

The point is, Osama is a spokesperson for
a whole world of crazies. Crazies who are willing
to blow themselves up to get their message across.
Crazies who will never stop. And all they are asking,
really, at the heart if it, is that we leave them alone.

They want us to stop taxing their tea.

What do you think?
Post a Comment

great crowd

Dear Chicago Homies,

Thank you for last night.
I was deeply and warmly
satisfied, both sexually
and philosophically.

You guys set a new record
for attendance with 1/2 price
coupons, which means I
got some cash money,
which means I can finally
afford to get the new t-shirts
printed.

"I shaved my balls today"

in green, I'm thinking.

Thanks for everything,
Mr. and Mrs. Chicago....
I love you guys.

-p

Tough Crowd

Springfield, IL.

Tough crowd.

Tough with a capitol
mother-fuckin T.

Cool host, Jeremy,
he put me up on his couch while
I waited for the raido show,
and in the Hilton Hotel the night of the show.

And cool peeps like the San Diego couple
and Shilo Sharla and the Shocker Dude,
they are all awesome.

But I was distracted by the idiot
who asked me if I could stop playing
and switch on a Kareoke machine.
I'm serious.

During the middle of the set,
he asked me if I could stop
and switch on a TV with a bouncing ballso he and his idiot
friends could sing Cherry Pie like the Redneck douchebags
they are.

Oh... man did that get me pissed.

Then there was the guy who called me a "faggot"
while I was onstage.

I said something aobut the bar next door,
he turned around and said "hey, I own that place"

I said, okay, well.. it doesn't look that cool,
and you're drinking in here, so maybe you agree with me.

He then made a gesture that suggested he would
like to bend me over and sex with me from behind.

So, of course, I said:
"Oh... you want me to have anal sex with you?...yeah, that's cool, I don't mind penetrating a man"

he flicked me off,
and repeated the gesture with a new facial expression,
I said: "oh... you want to be in back? you're a top, that's cool, whatever, I can switch."

to which he said:
"I bet you can, faggot."

Gotta love the Springfield.

-p

the Radio

whew..
whew e doggee.

It has been a whirlwind
of transmitted activity.

Nice Peter has met the radio,
and the radio has met Nice Peter.

I've done 5 appearances in the last two weeks,
and I've learned a shitload.

First, what it looks like on the inside
is nothing like what I imagined.

It moves so fast,
especially Fook at Q101.
He talks calm while he's moving
a mile a minute.
Phone calls come in,
he records them,
chops them up,
trims the fat,
then plays them back
2 minutes later.
the calls sound live,
and more or less they are.
But sometimes he talks
to the call he just recorded,
like he's conversing with the past.
weird.

He's a fucking cool dude,
he's coming to the show in Chicago on Saturday.

The morning show in Springfield, IL...
now that was a trip.

I was up and at the station at 7:30 am.
I pledged not to complain, because
I'm sure every band complains about the early hour,
and who wants to be just like every band?

I was prepared to play Tru Gangster and Spanglish,
my most innocent songs.
When the co-host, Liz, started talking about smoking weed,
I said "I've got a little song about Smoking Weed, it's called,
Smoke that Weed..."
she laughed and said... "oh... play that one!"

So I played Smoke That Weed live on the air at 8 am.
Every one in the studio gave me that look where you
pull your gums back from over your teeth,
like when somebody gets hurt in a football game on tv.
the sound is "ch" pulled backwards through your teeth.
"hhhshhh...!"

I guess it wasn't what they expected.
The male host looked concerned,
but he didn't want to interupt me,
so he let me finish.
Right at the end,
instead of saying,
"smoke that weed mother fucker"

I said...
"smoke that weed with Liz and Barstool Bob on the morning show"

and he came in with:
"oh... no... no don't smoke with us...no"
and then
"well, that was good, this might be the last episode
of the morning show, as we're probably going to lose our jobs"

oops.

she told me to play it.

He was just kidding,
half kidding at least,
but I guess I crossed the line a bit.

the people out in the office
gave me funny, but amused, looks.

I went in and recorded some little
ditties about Liz and Barstool Bob.

Barstool Bob is cool,
and he invited me back to his
apartment to smoke some weed.
go figure.

Tonight it's Springfield, IL.
tomorrow it's St Louis,
and an appearance on Radio-uncensored.com.

I'm so used to being clean on the air from this past week,
I might freeze up when I get the chance to let loose.

Either that or I'll revisit Black People Soup.

-p

Prostitution

I just finished watching an episode of "Cops".
This one had a theme.

Prostitution: Crackdown.

Now you're just going to have to believe
me on this one, because it may seem a bit silly.

The Cops team had 5 or 6 members.
One was not a police officer, but a
civilian hired by the police to pick
up prostitutes. He drove around
in a car with a night vision camera inside.

The other main character was a bald man
with a mustache and a thick southern accent.
He was the leader of the Crackdown team.

The other members, and this is where it gets silly,
were in various black masks and hoods.
I'm serious.

These were all police officers, in black masks,
one of them looked exactly like the Gimp's mask
in Pulp Fiction.

Here's the schtick:
The civilian finds a prostitute in a
run-down part of town, not difficult.

He invites her in the car,
says hello, propositions her for sex,
offers an absurdly low amount of money,
($30, $15, etc.) and when the lady hesitates,
he says "that's all I got, can we do this?"

She hesitates a bit more, and then finally accepts.

At this point, the civilian does some kind of signal
to a car following behind with the hooded cops.

They pull the civilian's car over,
they take out the prostitute,
handcuff her with those plastic handcuffs
they use in riots, and rough her up just a tiny
bit to remind her who's the boss.

Then the main leader, Baldy, comes
over and asks her if she knows why she is
being arrested, chastises her for accepting
such a low amount of money for sex.
e.g. "thirty dollars for sex? that's all, that's all the money you're making?"

He gives her a brief lecture,
and tells her she's going to jail.

All this time, the cops in masks stand
around, obviously proud of their catch,
not taking off their creepy S&M masks.

After the lecture, Baldy turns to the Hoodies
and says "let's go catch another one!"

I watched four cycles of this.
The last one was a black transvestite.
Believe it or not, the white, southern,
masculine cops were a bit more
aggressive with the faggy negro.

Now, this might be just my opinion,
and I'm often wrong, but maybe these
resources and manpower could be better spent
getting to the root of the problem.

I don't know any prostitutes personally,
but I'm guessing they don't end up there
as a career choice. Nobody in my kindergarten
class said they wanted to be a hooker when they grew up.

Accept maybe when Pretty Woman came out.

"Hunting" prostitutes like a bunch of redneck idiots,
tackling the black transvestite to the ground,
(for no reason, I watched the tape, he didn't do shit to them)
all the while wearing black Klan hoods doesn't strike
me as effective justice.

I would have to bet that %75 percent
of those officers have at least one porn tape
in their home.

Porn actress having sex,
porn actress getting paid for sex, that's
cool... yeah... I know, there's a lot of horrible,
gagging, abusive porn out there, but just so
long as its video taped for MY off-duty enjoyment,
it's all good.

Here's some facts for you:
The United States has the world's highest rape rate of the countries that publish such statistics.
It's 4 times higher than Germany, 13 times higher than England, and 20 times higher than Japan.

Now here's some info about the prostitution laws:

United States:
Prostitution is illegal (a misdemeanor) except in certain counties of Nevada. Visiting a prostitute is illegal also. Some jurisdictions will take your car if you used it to attempt to hire a prostitute; others will publish your name in local newspapers. The police is allowed to and actually does undertake sting operations. Police stings include street walkers and much less frequently escort services and massage parlours.

Germany:
Prostitution is legal but does not yet have the status of a regular profession (health care, unemployment benefits, collective bargaining etc). Prostitutes do have to pay taxes though. Communities can and do forbid prostitution in certain areas and/or at certain times of the day.

England:
Prostitution itself is technically legal, but several surrounding activities are outlawed which make it hard to work legally. It is illegal to solicit or advertise or run a brothel (= place where more than one girl works). It is also illegal to kerb-crawl. There are rumors that prostitution is tolerated in Scotland; the bordellos are called 'Saunas' there.

Japan:
Prostitution is technically illegal, as is visiting a prostitute. Prostitutes are rarely punished however, and johns are never punished. Enticing, pimping, promoting prostitution and operating a brothel carry penalties.


Looks like you're doing good work, you fucking idiots.

News is back

Dear Nice Peter news readers.

We were experiencing technical
difficulties with the news page.

It is now fixed, and there are two
new posts below for you to enjoy.

Enjoy.

you.

-p

Black People Soup

Last night saw me as a guest
on the Red Bar Radio show.

RedBarradio.com

A very interesting experience.

I learned something important
about radio appearances,
which is good because I have a few more
coming up, and hopefully it will become
a regular thing.

When going on to the radio,
one should be prepared.

I didn't know enough about what I was getting into,
I felt a little on-edge and uneasy the whole time.

It was fun, very fun, although tense.

If you missed it,
you can download the show
all week on RedBarradio.com

He may have had to censor
some of the better parts,
but those are the breaks.

The host is Mike D.
A hooded figure seen
at some Nice Peter shows of the past.

He's a solid dude, and
a cool supporter of the music.

But when he gets on the air,
he adopts a different persona
that I was not prepared for.

Once again,
if I had done more research,
I would have known more about what to expect.

He has a co-host,
or at least did until last night,
it may fall apart.

The co-host is black,
and he is often referred to
as "the black guy"

Apparently, his wife,
who is white, gets upset
at all the racial jokes that get tossed
around on the show.

She called in, upset, and wanted
to fume about the "disrespect"
shown to her husband on the air.

I thought it was all a joke.
or at least blown up for the show.

After her call-and-fume,
I was supposed to play a song on the air.

I thought it would be funny
to make a joke about the phone call,
so I started in with a little improv
song called: "Black People Soup"

"I love to make soup, out of Black People"

Stuff like that.

I thought it was going to be the funniest thing
I ever said. I thought everyone would say
"oh... how ridiculous, black people soup... ha ha ha"

But they didn't laugh.
the people in the studio didn't laugh.
The black guy didn't laugh.

with no laughter to keep me going,
the song died a terrible death.
And I felt very weird.

oops.

I thought it was funny.

My favorite part of the show was the call
from the 13 year old girl,
she wasn't allowed to talk on the air,
for some reason of rules or some bullshit,
and so she got kicked off.

I felt bad for her,
so I sang a song about 13 year old girls.
You can imagine where that one went.

I will edit that song from the broadcast and post it
on nicepeter.com.

Lessons learned:
-Prepare for radio appearances.
know the show, the audience, the atmosphere.
-don't sing about making soup out of minorities.
-do sing about 13 year old girls, as much as possible.

much love.

redbarradio.com