Tour Diary Part One

I'm laying on a couch in Milwaukee.

With a Siamese cat named Simon,
and a terrible bloody mary I made
out of whiskey.

I'll try to bring you up to speed:

Gigs so far:
two

Subway sandwiches:
one

Panera Bread visits:
one

Running out of gas on the highway occurrences:
one

That's right,
I fucking ran out of gas.

I guess I shouldn't say just once,
because I ran out of gas last week
after the IIT show too.

My beloved Subaru
does not scream at you
when you are low on fuel.

No warning light,
and no room below E.

Most cars I've driven
have some play below E,
you can take it to empty
without really making it... empty.

Not the Subaru,
not my Bette Boop.

(have I told you that I bought
a Subaru with Bette Boop stickers
on the back?)

I did.

And I almost bought a Bette Boop
tshirt at a garage sale today.

I bought cowboy boots instead.

real, fucking, cowboy boots.

they were two dollars...
I had to.

My first gig
was in Dekalb, IL,
and there were nine people there.

By the end,
it was eleven.

I earned some new fans,
well..
two new fans,
over from the pool hall next door.

Then,
on the drive back to Bryan
Adamick's (my booking agent,
who is accompanying
me on the first four shows.)
I felt the familiar jerk of,
"oh shit, I'm out of gas"

We were on 90/94,
a six lane highway North
of Chicago.

I tried to crest the hill
like Annie's headlights,
but I stalled out 200 yards
from the exit.

We tried to push the car,
but we were two hundred
fucking yards from the exit.

So.

We walked.

And walked,

and a state trooper blew
by us walking along the highway,
and didn't seem interested.

He probably shops at
Reckless Records.

dickhead.

We finally made it to the Shell Station,
bought a gallon in my gas can
that Naomi convinced me to keep.

Don't ask me who she is,
it's a long fucking story.

a nice one, though.

We made it back to the car,
and back to Bryan's condo.

This morning I
had my favorite
Panera bread sandwich,
and three cups of coffee.

Then we hit up
Guitar Center
to start shooting
my underground music video.

I'm going to try to
film an entire music
video for Fuck Guitar
Center, inside Guitar Center.

I was nervous as balls.

I'm not too good at that kind of stuff.

The rebellious underground.

Then we were off to Wisconsin,
where I picked up a keyboard,
so I can play "You Shouldn't have pissed me off"
live on stage.

It's not the same without a thirty
dollar keyboard,
so that's just what I got.

Lot's of people are telling
me its their favorite song
on the album.

It both delights and frustrates
me to no end.

I wrote that song in ten minutes
with Pops while we were
smoking pot and watching
wrestling.

I recorded it in fifteen,
and I made up the second
verse about the cat in the
microwave on the spot
as we were recording.

"hasambach...."

is just me trying to
say "I hope somebody.."
and tripping over it,
because I was hung over from pot,
and I was making it up.

anyhows,

I bought the keyboard,
and I played the song
at the gig tonight.

In Milwaukee,
opening for a lovely
girl who might be lesbian,
named JoAnn.

She might be a lesbian,
or she might just have lots
of lesbian fans.

Actually,
she definitely has lots
of lesbian fans,
but I'm not sure about her.

And it doesn't matter.

She was lovely,
and we had a fun show,
and we each made ten dollars.

I didn't make any dollars last night.

I'm off to a very successful start.

Actually,
I am.

I felt good about both shows,
and people bought the album,
and some shirts,
and I'm having fun,
and I'm stoned on
a couch trying to drink
a terrible bloody mary.

I don't know whose couch it is,
I'm not sure who lives here.

but I know she has kids.

It's cool,
they sleep upstairs,
and they won't wake
me and Bryan up tomorrow,
but the Siamese cat might.

see you tomorrow.

-p