UK Tour Diary Day 9

Pictures of people laying down on funny stuff.

Apparently that's a thing.

I had never heard of it before,

but remember those cows I told you

about in Milton Keynes?

They're made of cement.

well...

a dude came down from

the Milton Keynes show,

to the Kettering show,

and he was showing me

pictures of the cows.

And then there were some pictures

of him laying down on the cows.

and then there were some pictures

of him laying down on other random things.

That's his thing,

he explained.

He takes photos of himself laying down on random shit.

I think it's hilarious,

and apparently its a fad.

So that brings me to Kettering.

Kettering is a classic English town,

with a classic English music venue.

It's my third time there,

ad we had a great crowd,

and a wild party,

and a wild after party.

and I got stoned and drunk

and slept on a mattress in the pub

and jammed on the drums with the local dudes,

and it was all a hoot.

The show was a blast,

crazy people shouting out crazy

things, and one crazy dude named Mike.

It was Mike's twenty first birthday,

and in keeping with some bizarre

tradition that seems to have popped

up on this UK tour, he decided to come up

onstage and get naked.

I promise you, this was with no prompting from me.

I don't particularly like it or dislike

it when random dudes get naked onstage.

It certainly makes it a memorable experience,

but it makes it hard to keep control of the show.

once some dude takes his pants off,

it's hard to bring the songs back

to clever ditties about Spanish.

So Mike was drinking pretty hard all night, I assume,

he came up to play tambourine, one thing

led to another, and next thing I know he is

showing the audience his larger-than-normal

left testicle.

what do you do with that?

I guess you keep playing.

And you hope that Ed got

the whole thing on video.

he did.

Oh,

and after the show,

Mike passed the fuck out

on a bench in the Pub.

I took the opportunity

to snap a photo for the dude

who came down to the show from Milton Keynes.

-p

UK Tour Diary Day 8

Tough crowd,
Ipswitch...

tough crowd.

I'll admit, I got off to a rocky start,
coming out swinging with a new
song I wrote upstairs in the attic
is not the best way to win over a
chilly new audience.

But,
with crazy dancing Indian dude,
and the couple who walked in the bar
and went completely separate ways immediately,
I think we ended up having a good time.

Turns out the hard-to-impress guy in
the front row was Lady Sovereign's drummer.

figures.

I'm not sure I eve know who that is,
but she sounds like the kind of
lady that would have a drummer
who is hard-to-impress.

All in all,
it was a show that made me flex
muscles, a work out, an exercise
in hostile crowd work.

I got the whole thing recorded,
as I have pretty much every set
from this tour recorded, I'm thinking
about posting whole sets as kind of
a podcast download.

What do you think?

do you want to hear Nice Peter
win a steep uphill battle
against a crowd and eventually
start to win them over?

I'm not even sure if I do,
but there was some funny shit last night,
and that guy did look EXACTLY
like the dude from the "Whoomp, There it Is" video.

I swear.

-p

UK Tour Diary Day 7

Last night I played at a pub in Milton Keynes.

I always do a little research about a new town
before I play it, it helps loosen things up a bit.

"I took the time to find out about you...
now shut up and listen while I make of you"

Something like that.

Last night was fun for me,
there was a bonus set, and lots of free beer,
and a crazy old dude named Tommy
who I'm pretty sure wanted to take me home.

but I'm also pretty sure he might not have a home.

Anyway you slice it, he was awesome.

I don't think he has an email, but I told
him I'd tie a note to a bird's claw if that's
what it take to let him know I'm coming back to Milton Keynes.

I've got some decent video of him,
I'll post it as soon as I can get the other backlogged videos done.

I've got more footage than I know what to do with,
and I'm trying my best to keep everything more updated on this tour.

I'm doing a better job, aren't I?

It's cause I'm not smoking any weed.
I've got video about that, too.

OH!

wait,
I was going to tell you
the whole point of the Milton Keynes story.

So... I was asking the audience
about any other stories, facts, legends,
whatever they could tell me about the town or the pub.

...... silence............silence......

"WE'VE GOT CEMENT COWS!"

what?

"CEMENT COWS"

oh.... cement cows,
how fascinating.

That was all they wanted to talk about.

cement cows.

I love this tour.

-p

UK Tour Diary Day 6

I had to go back and look at the number
on my last post to see what day this is.

Things are getting into swing.

We had last night off,
which is always dangerous,
because you lose momentum,
and you drink too much because you
don't have to play anywhere.

Ed was hosting a big show in Preston,
so we stayed here. I stayed home
and worked on some more videos,
and then went to see the show.

It was Jeffrey Lewis,
an American guy,
and opening up was Ivan Campo,
(who is a Spanish guy, but not in this case)

Ivan Campo is one of my favorite bands in the world.

and Jeffrey Lewis was an incredibly interesting songwriter
who had the whole room silent.

I got to mingle around and talk with people
without having to worry about my guitar
or my tshirts, and it was nice.

Tonight we are playing the first new town
of this tour. My stomach hurts, Ed seems tired,
we were supposed to leave an hour ago,
and my fingernails are too long.

Other than that,
everything is perfect.

-p

UK Tour Diary Day 5

UK Tour Diary Day 4

Preston, England.

Last night was Ed's birthday party.

My head hurts, but not too much.

Someone got naked onstage during my set,
but it wasn't me.

I think, perhaps,
that I really have grown up a bit.

I got the whole thing on video and audio,
I'll have highlights for you soon.

I don't have the energy to write much now,
but here's the video from our first night:



-p

UK Tour Diary Day 3

Day 3,
Show 2,
Oldham, UK.

Let me start by saying that the rumors
going around that The Godfather's buy 1
get 1 free pizza special is crappy pizza are false.

Ed and I have been coming to Oldham to play at the Castle
every tour now, and we have always gone to the Godfather.

Buy one get one free pizza!

But we were told that they recieved
zero stars out of 5 for cleanliness.

That's not good.

So we were pointed in the direction
of a different pizza place, and this morning
we both feel terrible.

That might also have something to do
with the case of Heineken we polished off,
on top of the Aftershock, and one terrible
idea of a Jager bomb.

I woke up feeling pretty snappy this morning, actually.
It's Ed that feels like hell.

He's still in bed,
I went for a walk to get a sandwich.

I took one look at my leftover pizza,
made up of Tuna, onions, and hot green chilies,
and decided that was a pretty terrible way to start a day.

I eat strange pizza, what do you expect?

Last night's gig was alright,
hard work, but fun.

I had trouble getting the audience
on board with anything.

I finally got them all to yell
in agreement when I asked,
"how many people out there breath oxygen?!"

yay!


It was a pretty standard set,
I got the whole audio recorded
and maybe I'll post up the highlights.

I'm trying to do a better job
of posting something every day for you,
it's a natural result of me quitting smoking pot.

I wake up feeling just that much more motivated
to do something.

Now, when I say "quitting"
I mean more like cutting back,
but any way you slice it,
I'm not getting stoned every night
on this tour, and I can already
tell its making a difference.

We'll see how much it helps
when we have to sleep in some
strange house on some uncomfortable
couch and it's cold and lonely
and terrifying.

On those nights, a little smoke
can come in real handy.

But Ed's done a pretty good
job on this tour of weeding
out the undesirables, and we have
some kick ass shows ahead of us.

Today is Ed's birthday party
back in Preston, and he's put
together an all day concert with
10 bands, and I'm supposed to headline
at the end of it all.

The bastard.

He likes to do that to me,
throw me after a bunch of awesome
bands and watch me struggle to overcome.

I guess it's good,
throw em in the water,
they'll learn how to swim.

Speaking of good bands,
check out Murmurs of Tension,
I played with them in Bolton,
and they were fantastic.

Today the music starts at 3,
the drinking starts at 2:30,
and I go onstage at 11.

We'll see what happens.

It is England, afterall,
where the pubs open before noon
and it's not rare to see people
drunk by 2 pm.

They really do know how to drink here,
but apparently it's causing some scandal.

There were police in the bar last night
checking the authenticity of the liqour.

No kidding, they had a cop
and two scientists of some sort
dipping little test strips into
the Bacardi.

Fake Bacardi? Why would anyone bother?
And what is in real Bacardi that makes
it show up on some chemical test strip?

All I know is,
my sandwich was equally terrible,
and I've got a train to catch.

I'll keep you posted.

-p

UK Tour Diary Day 2

First off,
what the hell is this?
--------------------------------------------
Divina Yalin has invited you to join a group in Second Life.

Divina Yalin has invited you to join a group.
There is no cost to join this group.
Group:
White Horses Angels: We are fans of White Horses.
If you have a white horse with wings or not you are welcome in our
group.
Come and enjoy with us we like go around with our horses and see
horses stuff!!

Log in to accept or decline this invitation.
--------------------------------------------

White Horses?
See Horses Stuff? This is by far
the nerdiest thing I have ever seen in my email box.

I got that this morning,
I use the term "morning" loosely
because I didn't wake up today until 3:30 pm.

Me and Ed were up late polishing off the
cans of beer in the fridge and eating hummus
and going over some live tracks we put together for
the new CD.

We didn't even get back to his house until about 3 am,
because out driver, Adam, got lost as fuck.

He's a wonderful driver, he moves fast as the wind
and stays totally sober while we drink every free beer
we can scam from the pub.

Last night we were in Bolton, not far from Preston,
and I didn't have my rental car yet so we asked Adam
for a lift and he agreed.

We arrived at 7:30, I didn't go on until 11,
and I somehow ended up playing two sets until about 1:30.

Everyone stuck around, it was cool to see people
rocking out so late on a school night.

The show was alright, took some time getting going
but it got fun.

It's tough for me to keep it feeling fresh,
because I've been playing so much,
but I forget that no one in Bolton has seen
me in 10 months. And some longer.

One kid was there when I played the Abandoned
Snooker Hall on my first tour.

That was scary as fuck, but fun.

The highlight for me, was the pissed off little dude
who stormed out of my set after the first song
because it was too "sexual"

I don't even really know what that means.

But I won him over in the end,
and I got a video of dancing to Kansas.

I'll post it as soon as I can figure out
how to integrate it into the blog.

-p

UK Tour 2009 Day 1

Hi.

I woke up today at 3 pm.
Refreshing.

I slept like a sweaty dog last night,
confused, hot, tired, sleepless.

Jet lag, basically.

I don't normally struggle with it so bad,
because I am blessed with a gift.

I can sleep on planes.

Shit, I can sleep on the bus,
I can normally fall asleep anytime
I sit down somewhere relatively soft.

I dozed one time while I was getting my hair cut.

But this flight, this one was different.
In all my travels, this was undoubtedly the worst
flight I have ever taken.

(cue rustic French music)

I flew Air France.

I was very excited,
French food, French wine,
it gives the whole trip a bit more European
feel than my usual Delta flights.

I forgot, this also meant I would have to deal with French people.

Now, you must keep this in mind,
take any group of people, any ethnic group,
age group, social economic group, anything.

Cram them all together in a plane for 14 hours,
and the stereotypes will float to the surface like cream.

It's just the odds, man, the stereotype roulette.

The flight attendants were beautiful, and unnecessarily sexy.

I fell asleep at one point when I was supposed to buckled in,
and I awoke to find the flight attendant reaching across my lap
to find my buckle. She smiled, I was confused, but delighted.

So, stereotype number 1, French women are sexy and forward.
Check.

Let's move onto number 2.
French people smell bad.

They do.

I'm sorry, but that was my experience.
On a long flight crammed together,
French people smelled like armpits and Chinese food.

They seemed to have the heat on,
it was hot as balls on that plane,
as if to encourage their stereotype,
to let their true nature shine.

After a long repressed holiday
in Los Angeles, let's crank up the heat
and sit close together so we can stink together
and sing French songs.

Stereotype number 3,
French people are rude.

Yup, they sure as fuck are.

It's hard to explain, it was a constant
arrogant snubbing and not caring about
fellow passengers. Highlighted by the man
sitting next to me.

On a plane full of beautiful young French woman,
I was plopped down next to a fat gay Frenchman.

I was behind a 75 year old French woman who thought
her leather jacket belonged draped behind her chair,
over my TV, and knocking over my fresh beer.

I was in front of a French descendant of a different
family line than Napoleon's.

He must have been 6 foot 2. And he kept
his knees in constant, rocking motion
pressed into the back of my chair.

The fat gay man next to me ate every morsel
of every meal, and brushed the crumbs off his belly
with complete disregard for the fact that he was quite
literally brushing them onto me.

Muttering in French, he would stretch out
his body, arms, and legs, across the invisible border
of our chairs. His pillow nudged into my neck, his hot
French breath on my face. He was awful.

But it's this weird combination of cheerfulness and arrogance,
almost as if the French are happily rude.

It makes it hard to truly hate them.

I have a philosophy on airplanes,
on trains, on any kind of cramped travel,
or maybe even life in general.

It ain't that bad. And when it is, it will be funny later.

I kept chuckling to myself when someone would
just walk right past me waiting in line for the bathroom,
and just stand in front of me and go next.

I would say, excuse me, they would say something
in French and smile, and that was the end of it.

When that lady threw her jacket into my beer which
then spilled on my leg, I almost lost it, but I laughed in the end.

I laughed, because through it all, any mild inconvenience
cannot take away from the fact that I am flying to England
to play shows, that I have food, and clothes, and a place to sleep,
and I'm not in the army, and I'm not being abused, and there are a lot
of things that I have to be thankful for.

And, at least I'm not French.

-p

should have known better

Today I leave for England.

I woke up feeling a little sick,
and for some reason, Mexican
food has always been an antidote for me.

Plus, I wanted to have one last bite
of real Mexican food before the UK.

Believe it or not, burritos in Scotland
just don't stand up to those in Souther California,
or Chicago, or even Rochester, NY.

So, I stopped at a small local Mexican joint
on my way to the post office this morning.

I was heading there to overnight some checks into my account,
and to send video files to my new manager so she can start
compiling some new demo videos for me while I'm gone.

I've started working with a new management company
here in LA, and shit's been crazy.

I'll keep you posted on that,
I'm not sure what to say yet.

Except, I'm excited, and so are they,
and there's all sorts of talk and plans
and energy being thrown at me,
ad it's got me all a jitter.

So, this little Mexican joint,
it's been around forever, and it looks like hell.

So, that kind of place has to have kick ass food, right?

wrong.

so wrong.

it was the absolute worst mexican food I have ever tasted.

No kidding, I've had better salsa in Preston, England.

Which is where I'll be tomorrow.

Thanks for all the birthday wishes,
it was an awesome party and I think
it's gonna be a big year for me.

I'll keep you posted from the road.

-p

oh no!

This is right around the corner from my house!!

Federal authorities and local police agencies raided two Westside marijuana dispensaries Wednesday as well as the residences of the owners.

The raids occurred at a facility on Washington Boulevard in Culver City and on Overland Avenue in Los Angeles. Authorities seized undisclosed items and are continuing their investigation, according to a Drug Enforcement Administration spokesman.

The names of the owners whose homes were searched were not immediately available.

During one of the raids, officers shot a dog believed to be a pit bull, but the circumstances of the shooting remain unclear, a law enforcement spokesman said.

The DEA, FBI, Internal Revenue Service, Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department, Los Angeles Police Department, Torrance Police Department and Culver City Police Department took part in the raids.

Law enforcement agencies have been cracking down on pot dispensaries for some time, but officials did not immediately say what prompted these raids.

rebuttles

jesus, is that how you spell that word?

it can't be.

anyhow,

I'm writing this to express a response

to a comment I found in my inbox.

it is:

--------------------

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Midwest Tour Diary #3": 

i'm so confused by the Q101 thing. I was there that night. i like you and the Q101 DJs. i didn't realize you were seriously offended. it seems like you can make jokes but not take them. sorry. just don't be so sensitive. keep rockin!

--------------------

I'd like to respond to you, Anonymous.

First off, I love you.

That little "keep rockin!"

at the end of your comment was the

sweetest, coolest way you could have possibly

ended your self expression.

for real.

If you don't know the story behind this story,

please go back and read that Midwest Tour Diary #3 article,

it should shed light.

My response is this:

I am sensitive.

I don't know when I started making

fun of people as much as I do now,

but to tell the truth, sometimes I hate it.

I don't like making people feel uncomfortable,

but I am a sucker for the crowd, and sometimes

that is all that they will eat up, and like a drunk

self conscious fat guy at a party, I take my shirt off

and let people laugh at the shortcomings.

It's a slip, a weakness, a crutch, and something

I am trying to whittle down to a minimum.

However,

I can take a joke.

I can take jokes all day long.

I try to make fun of myself as much

as the audience, and I am fully ready

to be honest about any of my own numerous shortcomings.

What bothered me about the Q101 guys,

and I wish you could have seen closely the look

of exasperation on my face, was that they forced me

to do what I did next.

They called me out in front of my home town friends,

and I had to live up to my own weird reputation.

They made themselves the bad guy,

and they weren't funny enough about it.

I was compelled by a case history.

Nice Peter does not take shit from anyone

who resembles anyone who is "the man"

It's stupid, shallow, outdated, corny, and counter-productive.

But sometimes it's all I've got.

And some people who come to see me

expect that I will do something to shock them,

so what else am I supposed to do?

And at the risk of repeating myself,

I don't need two jerks from the biggest

rock station in my old beloved home town

to remind me that they have no idea who I am.

That shit hurts,

and in fact, it is the only thing that hurts me.

Indifference.

I came back to Chicago to feel good,

to play in front of people that make me feel good,

and in turn, I hope I make them feel good.

That one moment before going out onstage

is a big one, it stands still, it is a rush of joy

like waiting for a lover to get off an airplane

after a long trip overseas.

Those two Q101 guys soiled that moment

with their snide little comment of indifference.

But,

I must be honest with you,

I am taking your comment to heart,

and I am also taking my own experience to heart.

I wonder how many other people's

nights I have ruined by making some snide

little comment during my show, when they

were just innocently trying to have a drink at a bar

that I happened to be playing at.

I don't think I'm getting meaner on the inside,

I'm just getting a little quicker on the outside,

and maybe, just maybe, a little lazier.

It's a lot easier to get laughs by making

fun of someone, but does that just make

me a bully with a microphone and a very

in depth knowledge of three chord progressions?

Perhaps.

Anyway you slice it,

I appreciate your comment, Anonymous,

and I will keep thinking about it.

I've been wanting to chill out on the

"picking on people" bits for a while now,

I'm getting a little tired of being mean.

Thank you for your thoughtful comment,

you dickless little chicken shit.

-p

dude

dude.

dude!

You wouldn't believe this week of mine if I told you.

It's nothing and everything happening at the same time.

I'm not going to sit here and tell you everytime
about how I'm sorry I haven't kept in better touch
and been better about my blog. But you gotta bear
with me! I'm trying really hard out here and if I wrote
about it everyday it would be sad and boring as shit.

I moved out to Los Angeles so I could meet the right
people to help me jump up one notch in the world
of comedy or music or whatever the fuck it is that I do
so I can get back out there and do it properly!

And it's working, I'm meeting them,
and I'm meeting with them, and we're talking
and starting to brainstorm, and then we'll plan,
and then I'll be out on the road playing,
and sitting in the studio recording,
instead of putting plates on tables
on Monday mornings at a miserable restaurant in LA.

This week has been pretty big and exciting
and scary for me. I had a meeting today, it went
exactly as well as I had hoped. I've got one on Thursday
that could be a pretty big deal too.

In the meantime, it's my birthday on Saturday.
I'm turning 30. Fucking 30! Years Old!

But I got a cool haircut, and I quit smoking,
and I haven't been drinking too much and
I'm not as bald as I thought I was and I'm still
skinny and my voice feels good and I've got
the starts of some new songs and some ideas
and I might get some cool people on board
the Nice Peter train to help keep it rolling before
I lose my fucking mind.

To celebrate, I'm throwing a party and playing for
3 hours straight. It's in West LA, and it's gonna be fun.

Bourbon St Grill, Sat, Aug 15, 11 pm - 2 am./
10928 W Pico Blvd in West LA.
no cover.

I almost forgot to tell you,
I played with Pauly and Donehoo,
my old band from the simple days.

We met up in Chicago and played the gig
together and I don't remember when I've had
so much fun and joy pouring out of me.

We're in serious talks about doing a tour together,
just the three of us, playing some big ass rock shows.

That would make me so happy.

It could only make me happier if the tour
was supported by some press and some
publicity and some radio stuff and whatever
else comes with being a legitimate singer/comic/ballshaver
or whatever I'm supposed to call it.

My name is Nice Peter,
I'm not on speaking terms with my brother, and that sucks,
I'm turning 30, and that's scary,
I might be around the corner from getting a pretty huge
break in my career, and that is daunting.

I won't be able to be kinda funny and
under the radar and feel safe that way because
I didn't reach for anything bigger.

I also don't want to get out of the shoes I'm in,
they're fucking comfortable.

I just want a little more organization,
and little more publicity for tours,
a little exposure.

maybe a lot? fuck it,
however much comes,
as long as I don't lose track
of who I really am and what I really do.

and I think I'm going to get it soon.

I've been out here for 8 months,
and people are starting to notice me
and that's awesome and I hope I can
keep doing exactly what I've been doing
except better.

Thanks for reading this,
and being here,
and being there,
I would never have had the balls
to keep playing and writing and touring
and thinking I have any reason for believing
in myself if it wasn't for you.

-p

indifference

I had an argument
last night with a girl
who looked me in the eyes
after my show and said,

"you're the worst"

ouch.

It wasn't for anyone's
benefit or to make anyone
laugh, it was just her true
feelings for me.

ouch.

She was upset,
because I had been
making fun of her friend.

A dude in a green polo,
who sat in the very front
next to the stage,
with his back to me,
talking away to his buddies.

I realized last night
that I can deal with a lot
of responses.

Indifference is the one
that really drives me nuts.

You can love my show or hate my show,
but there is no way that it's boring.

I don't mind if you leave,
or sit through it and think
it's horrible, or if it's
in a noisy bar like last night,
just move to the back.

But to sit in the very front,
with your back flat to my face,
talking to someone,
what did they expect?

What was I supposed to do?

I believe comedy comes
from a combination of pressure
and release, tension!

Tension comes from focus,
blah blah blah....
you can't do it with someone
right in front of you talking.

I asked them to move,
and that's what I argued with
the girl about at the end of the night.

After she told me I was the worst.

She said,
"but we weren't here to see the show"

I know that, you don't have to remind me.
but there was a decent number of people
who were here to see the show,
and I'm going to do the show whether you like it or not,
and afterward, I'll leave.

but in the meantime,
just move to the back.

"why... we were talking
and we had a nice table up front?"

Are you joking?
You can't sit at the front
table if you're just going to talk
the whole time and not have any
interest in the show. I'm not hurt,
or insulted, I honestly don't care,
but you just can't sit there.

"but we weren't here to see the show."

oh, you're a ....ing moron,
I didn't realize, sorry.

All of it got pretty ugly,
and then a bachlorette party
of..... 30! hot girls came into the bar.


I tell ya,
nothing eases tension
like a group of 30 drunk chicks
working together.

So I sang and danced with them,
and all was gay and happy,
and we got the show back on track,
at least sort of.

And the offender in the green polo left,
and his seat was vacant.

And the bachlorette girls left,
and the seat remained vacant,
and all returned to calm and quiet.

And then this poor,
nice, unsuspecting new guy
came in and sat in that same
seat that for some reason was
still 2 feet in front of the stage,
with it's back to me.

Oh you poor devil.

-p

This is Des Moines

Well, jesus H Christ.


Welcome back!

I got yelled at by my friend
Bryan because I've been neglecting my blog.

Now I'm in a Kinkos in Des Moines
copying CDRs because I sold out of
my new live album two nights ago.

Oh... I have a new live album.
It's my first ever solo live album,
and I like it, a lot.

I always fear that I've crested
the hill with my creative exploits.

Turns out, I haven't, and that's a relief.

Songwriting has still been a bit of
a bitch, but the shows have been better
than ever.

I sharpened my teeth out there in Los Angeles,
something like that.

I did this residency at a music club
slash pizza joint in Long Beach.

That got me in my groove.
The live album is from there,
and it's probably 50% improvised.

There's a DVD too, but we'll talk about that later.

Right now I want to tell you about my
last couple of days.

Thursday night I had a gig at Skydive Chicago.
That is 45 miles southwest of the city.
and it kicked huge ass.

I'll sum it up as quick as I can.

I've been playing there every year for 4,
and this year they built a big stage
and had big lights and sound,
and a huge crowd or crazy drunk people,
and it was all perfect and fun and just how
it should be and afterwards I took pictures
and signed a boob and sold out of all my new CDs.

Then, I started partying.

If you've never partied with a skydiver,
I highly recommend it.

Ah... decicions, decicions,
do I want to skinny dip in the lake
with those hot girls or ride
a hovercraft with these dudes
or build a fire and smoke weed
with those guys or drink beers
and spew philosophy with that homie
or climb a tree or just yell at the top of my lungs?

It doesn't matter,
it's private property,
and as crazy as everyone is,
they are also remarkably sane.

It's hard to explain, just trust me.

I woke up in the morning
with more options.

I opted for the
flying in the wind tunnel
then swimming then getting a pro massage
then eating a fresh grilled hamburger selection.

It all adds up to,
I'm glad to be back on the road,
I don't think I'm going to stop.

I moved to LA to find a manager,
or an agent, or something,
and I found one.

That's a whole other story
that isn't quite completed yet
so I'll tell you about that later.

But it's pretty cool.

oh yeah,
now I'm in Des Moines.

and last night I ate pizza
with some nice people at
a pizza joint that serves
honey garlic slices and more
kinds of beer than I've ever seen.

That was after I played for a huge
crowd of douchebags and made fun of them
one by one until they went into the other room
until all that was left was cool free thinking people
and the staff who I thought hated me but apparently loved it.

that was fun too.

I'm sorry I've been so quiet,
I've had a lot on my mind, sort of.

-p