new music video
Hi.

I made a new music
video with Bret Yager in Minneapolis.

We didn't have much of a plan,
and I had lost my voice the night before.

So... we just hit the streets with a
camera and an Iphone (for playback)

I danced around, Bret worked his magic,
and what do you know? I think it's a pretty cool video.

Midwest Tour Diary Cont

Yeah, yeah, I know,
it's late.

but better than never, right?

Day 4:
Berwyn, IL.

I woke up yesterday morning
in a loft with a new ipod.

I woke up this "morning"
in a hotel room in Michigan
with a splitting headache.

I put morning in quotes,
because I wouldn't call
what I got last night "sleep"

more of a "brisk nap"

I played a show in Berwyn, IL
last night, one of my favorite
haunted cigar stores/bars in the country.

In fact, fuck it,
I'll go ahead and say it's
my hands down favorite haunted cigar
store/bar in the entire world.

There is no place like this bar,
it's called Cigars and Stripes,
and its run by a brilliant raving lunatic.

Ronnie, let's call him.

Ronnie wants nothing more
in this world than to have a great bar
that has great comedy,
and, to some extent, that's exactly
what he has.

Although not all the great comedy
comes from the guy onstage,
there is always something funny going on
at Cigars and Stripes.

I played the show sober,
owing to the fact that I had
to hit the road directly afterward
to drive towards Howell, MI,
where I have to be today at 2 pm.

I don't know what it is,
but some crowds just cannot
stand to see me not drink
through a set.

I don't know when I became
a drunk circus monkey,
but hey... I'm sure I didn't fight
the identity.

All that aside, I played stone sober,
and I had a fucking blast.

I forgot how clever I can be
when I'm not fogged down
by shots and pints.

I don't mean to toot my own horn,
or anyone's horn, for that matter,
but last night I said some pretty funny shit.

I'll be damned if I can remember any of it,
but all in all, I was happy and proud of the show,
and even though I didn't come loaded
with a cart full of new songs,
I felt like I delivered something fresh.

Plus, I got paid in cash and hot sauce,
so how can I possibly complain?

Last night saw this tour's debut of
the "I like my women like I like my... blank..." game.

It was something I used to play on
the road with Mission IMPROVable,
(if you don't know who they are.. sorry,
but you can google it, it'll come clear real quick,
I used to tour with them for two years, it's how I got
my first taste of living on the road,
and my first taste of college pussy)

I digress.

It's a simple game,
I like my women like I like my...... um...
(I'll look around my room and choose something
at random, just trust me....)

okay...
perfume.

don't ask.

You get the object from the audience,
and then you nail them with a made up punchline.

I like my women like I like my perfume,
stinky and French

It gets funnier,
but you see the idea.

Anyhow, I've been toying
with the idea of using it onstage
in my music show for a while,
make a little song out of it, ya know?

great idea!

except,
and I swear this is the whole truth.

the night!
that I was going to try it
on an audience here in LA,
and I was talking to another
comedian backstage,
who used to sleep with my brother,
coincidentally,
another, older comedian
did it in his act, and he did it well,
and apparently he's been doing it
for fifteen years.

well,
that don't mean I can't do it in good old Berwyn!

The best part of the bit is,
usually some dude from the audience
ends up nailing the best punchline,
and getting the biggest laugh,
and you know what?
that's cool with me.

-p

Midwest Tour Diary #3

-This is added as a footnote, even though it's at the beginning....
I promised you a blog for everyday, I was writing most of them,
but not sending them, don't ask, it's a dumb story. So now I'm holed
up in a Brueggers with a giant cup of coffee, and I'll work my way
through all the stories-

Day 3.
Chicago, IL

This morning I woke up with an ipod in my pocket.

I have no idea who it belongs to.
It's a nice one, too, video.
Loaded with music, lot's of Jack Johnson,
but I like him more than I thought I would.

Waking up with an ipod in my pocket,
that should give you some kind of indication
as to the night I had.

I should also add that I had no idea where
I was when I woke, luckily for me, it was a friendly place.

My friend Mike's giant loft,
right around the corner from the Cubby Bear.

As I stood up, peed for twenty minutes,
it came back to me in flashes and chunks.

Ah... flashes and chunks,
that reminds me of puking in the parking lot.

Last night was the Cubby Bear show,
the big, homecoming, hometown celebration.

And I must say, as much as I remember,
I was very happy with it.

It started off with Pauly Doerr's new band, RF Modulator.

They were solid.

As they were getting off stage,
and I was getting on, the room was buzzing
with energy, positive energy, I was stoked,
had just the right mixture of sleep,
caffeine, and cheap beer that I like for a set.

Everything was going smooth, as planned,
good crowd, beautiful people, good sound,
big stage, good lighting, old friends, love.

now....

HERE, WE ....

who the fuck are you guys?

Two midgets,
well not midgets,
just short dudes,
are on the stage,
handling the microphone
with the ease of an experienced microphoner.

You could tell they were somebody,
you know how you can just tell sometimes?

Turns out they were,
the Manno Brothers.

Q101 (big Chicago Rock Radio Station)
had a new afternoon show, to replace
my dear friend Fook in the afternoons.

These were the hosts,
the Manno Brothers.

I was cordial as a Southern girl.
I promise you, I was.

They were there to give away some
Blackhawks tickets, who apparently got
both good and popular while I was gone.

No sweat, little dudes,
you do your thing.

So I hop on backstage
to pace around, get pumped,
get excited to come out and rock
my dear friends and closest supporters.

I hear this...

"ALLRIGHT..... We're the Manno brothers from Q101,
and we're here to blah blah blah excited radio voice."

They do their schtick,
they are rapping up,
and then I hear something to the effect of,

"okay.... looks like next up onstage we have.....
.......Nice...... Peter? Nice Peter....
what kind of stupid name for a band is that?
jokey, jokey, radio douche jokey...."

um.

seriously?

Did you guys honestly just put me in that position?

They left the mic,
I walked onstage,
in front of all my friends and longest time fans,
and I think we all knew what had to happen.

My dear friend Ethan asked me,
"you heard that, right? you're not going to let
them get away with that are you?

sigh,
no, I guess I'm not.

You might remember at the Goose Island
many years ago, when the manager
was scolding me for having my guitar too loud
during soundcheck, while there were already fans watching.

He was being a dick, and I was a slave to my stage persona.

I am not a cocky smart ass all day long,
I wouldn't even be able to hang out with myself
if I acted how I do onstage all the time.

But onstage, anytime onstage,
with a microphone, I am bound
by some foolish self depricating
pledge to be shocking, courageous,
bold, fearless, loud, funny, and
often insulting, at least in the face
of adversaries.

It's hard to describe the feeling to you,
I didn't really want to call out the Manno Brothers,
they are fucking radio show hosts for god's sake.

I could roll with it, impress them, and maybe play
on their show next time I roll through Chicago.

But,
I can't fight the momentum of what I accidently
started six years ago. If some little asshole
is going to come onto my home stage in front
of my friends and fans at my big homecoming
concert and be dumb enough to insult me
in front of everyone, I'm going to go berserk.

I started off pretty easy, actually,
I didn't want to make a scene,
I just had to say,

"um.... I'm Nice Peter, radio guys,
and I happen to like my name, and I think
all the good people here do too." (yaaaayyyyyy)

Then, he upted the ante,
had to start a little pissing contest.

One Manno brother jumped up onstage,
and got onto my mic,
and when I say "my mic",
I'm not being some dickhead posessive diva prick...
it's my mic, I bought it, I bring it, and I hook it
up to my equipment, specifically...
my looper pedal.

He got up and started spewing bullshit
into the mic, and I went nuts,
I don't know how it came off to the audience,
but inside I was fuming.

Just let it go, radio dude,
you've got your show every fucking day,
this is mine, I only come here every six months,
and I don't need you to remind me that the
local rock radio station has never heard of me.

get it?

That looper pedal came in handy,
while he was talking, I clicked it,
got him looping over himself,
he got mad, tried to step on it,
and ended up relooping with himself.

give it up, dude,
you're not going to win,
and as much as I would love to stop
and be friends and be on your radio show,
I can't stop until someone in this audience goes,
"holy shit.... I can't believe he just said that"

.

This was all in the first five minutes of the show,
what a start.

The rest went great, I was smiling the entire time,
people were singing, people were laughing,
and people were feeding me shots.

shots.

shot

shhhhhhhh

ts.

jesus.

that was too many shots.

Have you ever been driving down
a long road and you realize with a start
that you haven't really been paying attention?

Just driving on autopilot.

That's what happened to me
suddenly in the last ten minutes of my show.

I was playing,
and there were a couple hundred people watching,
and I wasn't even paying attention.

It was a good forward to the rest of the tour.

That is, I've done this so many times,
if I'm not careful, I can get lazy and just slip into routine.

I haven't been great at writing new songs,
either that or I have quite a few new songs
that I'm too nervous to play, or too nervous
to finish, because I'm always afraid they won't
be as good as the songs I used to write.

Either way, I was on edge this whole tour
to keep things fresh, and most of the time,
I think I pulled it off.

I ended the Cubby Bear show with a cover of Hey Jude.

And I promise you, no lie,
I don't really remember it at all.

I've played that song drunk with drunk audiences
so many times that it felt like making love to a familiar lover.

Just let go, rock back and forth, and have a good time.

You know the words, at least the important ones,
the rest will take care of itself.

-p