nice peter news

hey you, tube! get off my property!

2010-05-16T13:59:00.002-05:00

So I got a new job again, but this time it's a bit more relevant.

I'm going to start writing music and making videos with these

guys full time: http://www.youtube.com/thestation

I started out getting hired by them to write some parodies

and develop my Picture Songs idea into a bigger scope.

Things went smooth, and now they are bringing me into

their little youtube empire, or family, or dynasty, maybe

is the proper word.

They have Youtube down to a science, and they have an understanding

of it that has always eluded me. Their videos are popular, no matter what.

I've poured my heart into making some funny videos, but always had trouble

getting them to catch on.

Now we will be partnering, I make video, they make it catch on.

It's pretty exciting for me, it should open me up to a whole new audience,

and it should keep me focuses on pumping out new material

almost daily.

It's been a bit quiet here at the website, I know, but things are

definitely not quiet for me here out in LA. Just a little more focuses.

Don't get me wrong, I love playing for you in noisy bars,

I love the fun and excitement of turning a hostile crowd

into a giant loving embrace while we all sing Hey Jude

until my voice gives out and then I play I Quit You Fat Mother fucker

totally drunk while all the strings break on my guitar.

I love that, always have.

But someone very smart pointed out to me that

all that does, really, is get me another gig at another bar.

I'm going to focus more on my output,

and then do bigger and better tours that make more sense.

When I say make more sense, I mean, that are properly

promoted so there are actually people there on purpose!

In the meantime, check out youtube.com/nicepeter,

it's going to be changing a lot in the next few weeks.

I'm also working on two new albums, one with

Venkman Brothers, and one proper Nice Peter joint.

I miss the midwest, I miss touring, I miss England a lot,

but I'm doing something I should be doing, probably

should have been doing years ago, and it might be

my last chance to do it right, so wish me luck.

word.

-pete

oh holy shit

2010-03-25T18:18:00.001-05:00

hahahaha

I just got this video sent to me from this very strange venue
that the Venkman brothers had their first show at.

You can see us trying to figure out what chords to play
before making up a whole song about cats.

here you go:
http://tfortalent.com/index.php?
option=com_hwdvideoshare&task=viewvideo&Itemid=7&video_id=750

Life is an ocean

2010-03-25T18:11:00.001-05:00

I told a friend who was stressed out today

that life is like swimming in the ocean,

it comes in waves, and every once in

a while you end up with a bunch

of salt water in your mouth, and you just

need to spit that shit out and start over.

then another friend was telling

me about some other comedy band.

he asked if I wanted him to "fuck them up?"

I said, "yes, fuck them up like vaginas hanging from a clothesline"

I was feeling pretty wise and dirty today.

Like Benjamin Franklin on the set of a softcore porn.

I used to work at this shit ass restaurant called Sisley Italian kitchen.

Oh... I hope so bad they find this through a Google search,

like happened to my friend Nick, who ended up getting fired because

he blogged about his restaurant.

Anyway, Sisley sucked in every way possible,

except for the food, and the other waiters,

they were both pretty awesome.

But the owners, specifically the woman, the female,

the alpha bitch, oh man.... she was the absolute worst on earth.

I have never seen such a steady, unrelenting supply of bitch-fuel,

she could go for days on end, not being kind to anyone.

It was shocking, really.

They used to post up these memos, every day, on the door

when you walked in.

Memos about our "tap water policy"

Who the fuck.. has a tap water policy?

Memos about how we should be ashamed of ourselves,

how our service is an embarrassment, about how we can't

bring purses into work because we are all just thieves,

everyday was some kind of degrading, demoralizing,

awful nasty shit on the door for you to read, and then initial.

That was how you started every day, reading some awful shit,

it was not good for your brain, man... not good.

That restaurant closed, because the owners ran it into the ground,

because they are retarded, and Italian, never a good combination.

I stuck to music for a while to make a living, it was cool, but I needed

to get a dayjob to help me afford the comforts of life. I like to eat nice food,

I like to drink nice beer, and smoke the best weed, that's about it.

I buy used clothes, and I find my furniture in the garbage.

So I got the coolest job ever,

you can read the post below to find out more.

My bosses are cool as fuck,

and today, I received my first memo.

here it is, word for word:

When cannabis is smoked, a large amount of its THC—or tetrahydrocannabinol, the chief chemical that causes activation and pain relief—is destroyed. When it's eaten (not burned), the THC stays intact. In addition, the way THC is metabolized in the body when it's eaten makes its effects last longer. In short, eating marijuana instead of smoking it gives patients more bang for their buck.

-p

St Paddy's pic

2010-03-24T13:25:00.003-05:00

Well hello, happy Wednesday.

I'm off to... work.

see the post below to explain

why I am giggling.

I got a bunch of pics back

from the Venkman Brothers concert last week,

my favorite is below.

See if you can count the old school Nice Peter references

in the pic, like a treasure hunt! I found 8, if you look carefully.

Upgrayedd

2010-03-23T14:22:00.001-05:00

First of all,
Idiocracy has to be one of the best movies ever.

I want you to watch it as soon as possible,
please, for me, so we can exchange jokes
and line references.

Second of all,
I have good news and bad news.

The bad news is,
I had to break down and get a day job.

I am getting by on music, I am,
but that's just it, getting by, while I'm touring
shit's fine and popping, but while I'm here in LA
working on the next move, I'm tired of living like
a homeless dude.

So I got me a dayjob.
Ready for the good news?

I deliver marijuana cookies.

I ain't no drug dealer, holmes,
I work for a gourmet, medical marijuana
confection maker that delivers to only
the finest, legal, licensed dispensaries
in Southern California.

But, at the end of the day, I deliver pot brownies,
and that's a day job I can be proud of.

I had my first day yesterday, and I went
into 10-15 dispensaries around the city,
making deliveries, filling orders, registering
as a patient so I can legally be inside.

That was a trip, I must tell you.
I explored every demographic of
marijuana dispensary. Mexicans, Indians,
white people, black people, everybody loves
these cookies, and everyone loves weed.

I knew that, I've just never seen it all in one day before.

So that's going to be my gig, Mon, Wed, Fri.
Driving around to pot shops, talking about cookies
and lollipops, and our new medically infused Olive Oil....

It gives me time to work on music,
like my new song about Eugene Levy,
or the third Venkman Brothers album,
or these silly parodies I am cranking out every other
day for my other day job.

All in all, life is good, I woke up surprisingly sober
this morning after my first day on the "job"

I'm planning an East Coast tour for October.
It's a long way off, but that just gives me more time
to plan it, so I'm going to try to make it big.

England is calling me hard these days, there is some
shit developing in the arena too.

Midwest, I'm not sure when I'll see you again, but I'm
pretty sure it will be soon, if the boys from Bloomington/Normal can
come through.

-p

Torta Loca!

2010-03-14T18:54:00.003-05:00

Do NOT!
...eat the Torta Loca!

Even if you wake up like me
on a floor in Pacoima, CA, with
an empty glass of vodka next to your head,
and a bong with Bob Marley etched into it at your feet.

The Torta Loca will NOT make you feel better!

That combination of eggs, two cheeses, jalepenos,
avocados, ham, some other kind of meat, mayonaise,
and who knows what else on a roll will not go down well.

I was celebrating, and I made a poor choice of food.

Last night was the first Venkman Brothers concert.

Here's the deal with this Venkman Brothers thing,
it has bee a musical outlet for me. It is low pressure,
high creative, rock and roll that allows me to get my
juices flowing, and keep pumping out new stuff.

We make up everything as we go along, and we played
a 45 minute song of completely improvised shit.

we have two albums, that we recorded this week.
It's all made up. the first album,

"I Told You Not To F**king Touch That!"

features myself, Dante Cinnamonbuns on guitar,

Geoff from Craiglist on drums,

Lloyd Ahlquist on freestyle microphone,

Therm One on bass and turn tables,

beats by Eddie Nygma, and
special guest, MC Sonny List-yo-faults-son.

Here is the first album in it's entirety:
http://nicepeter.com/files/Venkman1.zip

-p

Susan Sarandon

2010-03-09T01:35:00.001-06:00

Well, that was a weekend, let me tell you what.

First of all, I do not have an STD,
and that's always good news.

I swear to god, even you know
you couldn't possibly have an STD,
getting tested is always a frightening experience.

I suppose it's a good thing that they reveal results
the same way for everybody, but do they have to add suspense?

"Peter, yes, we have your results, could you sit down please?"

....

"well, Peter, you.... are............. negative for everything."

woo hoo!

Time to go out and sleep with somebody dangerous!

I got invited by my roommate Scott to the premier
of OK Go's incredible new music video. I don't know
if you've seen it or not, but if you haven't, just stop right
now and go watch it. Youtube, This Too Shall Pass, OK Go.

Scott shot all the behind the scenes footage for the video,
he's been working with the band and the crew of engineers
for a few months now.

He got me in to record audio of the premier,
they did it at a fancy art museum here in LA,
and OK Go played an acoustic concert.

It was fucking awesome, I don't even know where to start.

First off, I came in early with Scott to set up,
I met the lead singer, I've been a fan of his for years.
He was totally cool, we ate tacos together, we talked about
music, he talked about music, he talked more, he kept talking,
and then he finished by talking some more. But he had lots
of interesting shit to say, and he's the lead singer of OK Go,
so I had no complaints whatsoever.

Then, the guests started to arrive, and they were a COLORFUL
bunch, let me tell you.

You had your basic groups of LA socializing,
rich people, cool people, hoes, and famous people.

The hoes here are a treat, so vibrant in their hoe-e-ness,
and the weather makes it easy for them to be almost
completely naked at parties year round.

The cool people are just that, same with rich people,
and the celebrities keep everyone on their toes.

The place got packed, Scott and I mingled around.

At one point, I was chatting with a girl sitting on a couch outside,
I couldn't help notice the woman sitting next to her, in sunglasses
at night,
was in fact, Susan Sarandon.

I paid her no mind, just remembered it to tell you later.

She looked very good, by the way.

But then, as I was chatting along with this girl,
and I was in some kind of funny story,
I couldn't help but notice that Susan
Sarandon was eavesdropping casually on
our conversation.

Boom, punchline to my story,
Susan Sarandon laughs,
I smile, and feel pretty cool all night.

neato.

OK Go started their acoustic set in front of the whole crowd,
and I got to stand right next to the stage to record the audio.
At one point, the awesome bas player dude with the mustache
dropped a mallet onstage, I bent over, and handed it to him,
I was that close.

They were fucking fantastic. I've always like OK Go a lot,
but now I am an absolute fan.

At one point, they had the whole crowd singing this beautiful
melody, I was singing too, looking around the crowd, smiling
in the lovely LA evening air, gazing at the faces... when, another boom,
I made direct eye contact with... Weird Al Yancovik.

What a funny night.

We stayed all evening at the museum, the bass player DJing
and playing Hall and Oates, because he fucking rules.

I met some people, talked to some people, told everyone
I could about my Susan Sarandon experience.

Then it was time to afterparty, and Scott, being as smooth as he is,
got us invited to the party at the lead singer's house.

Cut to me and Scott drinking PBRs, chatting with the awesome
bass player with the mustache about Chicago, telling stories,
playing with the lead singer's dogs, all in OK Go's big ass house
in Hollywood, and I'll tell you the truth, I felt pretty damned cool.

That was Friday, I'll tell you about Saturday tomorrow,
right now, I'm tired, and Susan just won't stop playing with my hair.

-p

What is it, Thursday?

2010-03-04T13:08:00.001-06:00

My head hurts.

I slept on a couch with my head next to an empty bottle of champagne.

I was celebrating!

I got a job, writing music.
It's not firmed up and official yet,
so I'll have to tell you more later,
but it's definitely a champagne kind of development.

Did I ever show you that mp3 of me
and that dude Ray Don from my first time
performing at the Improv?

I can't remember.
here it is, just in case:
http://nicepeter.com/files/Eating-Pussy-Improv-50-Cent-is-a-Pussy.mp3

Ray Don sang a hilarious song called,
"The only thing I was ever good at, was eating pussy"

He proceeded to strip down to an American flag speedo,
and god dammit, he earned it.

I was up next,
hilarity ensues.

I rode his momentum train as best I could,
it was like being in a comedy rodeo.

Hear for yourself.

Three days in a row,
and I'm still on top of the blog wave!

Life is good, don't forget that.

-p

Return 2

2010-03-03T18:27:00.001-06:00

Hey hey,

what do you know?

two days in a row.

Last night the Venkman Brothers made our first recording.

I know, I said we never would, but I just got the itch last night.

I went out to Dante's house around 3, we wrote the song in 10 minutes,

recorded it in an hour, and here you go:

http://nicepeter.com/files/01-Heart-Boner.mp3

That's me a on drums, Dante on guitars,

all in one take, and then vocal overdubs

until my throat got sore.

After we laid down that song,

we made a trip to Weird Al's recording engineer's

home studio. Yeah, no shit.

He was an awesome dude, he recorded Beautiful by Christina Aguilera,

and he helped us record one of Dante's songs, which I had the pleasure

of playing bass on.

It turns out I've been a bass player all my life,

I just didn't know it. And everything I know about the bass

I learned from Pauly Doerr, he's a god damned legend.

Today I wrote some more jokes,

here's a snippet:

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

I'm single right now, again, which means.... ugh... it's hard to even talk about, it means I have to start using condoms again. Man... that really sucks. I fucking hate condoms, oh they are the worst. I know, I know, they're important, blah blah blah, they suck. It's like fucking a ziploc bag, it's terrible. And it makes me so clumsy. Ladies, I'm not sure if you're aware, but we can't feel anything. Trying to get inside of you is like a blind man trying to find a doorknob. It's like trying to pick your nose while you're wearing a mitten.

I think birth control should be state sponsored and free. seriously. As soon as girls start getting their period, bam, free birth control from the government. It should be talked about in the open, it should be free, and it should be great. We need it. Make them taste good if you want to, make them like flintstone fucking vitamins. Put them in Mcdonalds hamburgers, I dont' care, just get them out there. We are reproducing way too fast, and in the wrong direction. Stupid people make babies. seriously, think of the dumbest girl you knew in highschool, she is probably the one with the most kids.

You sir, you look pretty smart, how many kids do you have? and how old are you? right, see? you and I don't have kids because we're not fucking stupid. "but I love my babies" bullshit. you don't love them. If you really loved them, you wouldn't have made the 3rd and 4th one so you could focus on the first two.

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

-p

return of the blog

2010-03-02T15:47:00.001-06:00

I'm back, mother fucker,
and I've finally got shit to say.

I feel fantastic, gotta tell you.
I haven't felt this good in a long while.

I quit smoking cigarettes, started running.
Ugh, I know, how very Californian of me.
But I do feel good, my brain feels lubed up,
my lungs feel clear, and I can sing, dammit.

I told Ed in England I quit smoking, he just laughed at me.

Ed is the only guy I've ever met who wakes up
in the middle of the night for a piss, and has a cigarette with it.

That's dedication.

I also started telling jokes.
Weird, huh? But I've never written a joke before.
I've written funny songs, and I've said funny things onstage,
but it was always by accident, flying by the seat of my pants.

I did three shows at Zanies in Vernon Hills, outside of Chicago,
waaaaayyyyy outside of Chicago.
Zanies is an old school comedy club, the real deal.
I learned more in those three shows than I have in months,
fuck it, years! of performing whatever it is that I perform.

It's hard to explain, but it's been a pretty major breakthrough.

I tried out 7 minutes of completely new material,
some short songs, jokes, bits, and a very angry rant
about the Black Eyed Peas... I tried it out at the Improv in Hollywood.

That's another thing making me feel pretty fucking cool,
I went to try out new material at the fucking Improv in hollywood.

anyway, it worked, and I loved it, and it was fun and awesome
and I have a new outlook on my Nice Peter performance and
I hope to show it to you soon, and I hope you like it.

Don't worry, I'm still singing songs and making up songs
about the dude in the front row.

In fact!
I have an entirely new outlet for that kind of shit,
I am pleased to introduce you to...
the Venkman Brothers.

I started a new band with Dante Cinnamonbuns on lead guitar,
Geoff from Craigslist on lead drums, and me on lead vocals and lead
bass.

We make up epic fucking rock songs.
We don't write anything down, we don't repeat anything,
we don't do interviews, we don't have a website, and we're already
bored with this blog.

It makes me so happy every day.

We have our first show on March 13 at a offbeat venue
up in the valley, and our really big second show on St Patrick's day
in Playa Del Ray.

I'm also playing bass in Dante's band, Give Me Motion,
we had our first show in this awesome basement speakeasy
at the old American Legion building next to the hollywood bowl.

It was incredible.

I was not so great on bass, but I'm learning,
and our harmonies were tight, and we're getting better.

It's all adding up to me having new outlets for my music,
and in Give Me Motion I can even submit some of my serious songs.
shocking, I know.

but with the Venkman Brothers I can sing songs like the one I just
wrote in my head.
it's called, "Baby, You Give My Heart a Boner"

Yup, it's like that.

All in all, shit is good,
it's good to be back, nice to talk to you again,
oh, and me and my girlfriend split up, just thought you should know.

Since I'm going through the trouble to put this blog back up,
I will try my darndest to keep it fresh.

-p

oops,

2009-12-03T01:03:00.000-06:00

shit, y'all.

I've been quiet again.

I've been working hard, I promise.

I'm laying down guitar and vocals

on those new songs I did with Pauly and Donehoo.

I got a job, sort of, making comedy videos

for Break.com, which is pretty sweet.

I spent all day auditioning hot girls today.

It was fairly surreal.

I'm sitting at a board room,

and beautiful woman after beautiful woman

comes in and is happy to meet me.

I got this email today:

Do you feel shy with the size of your tool?

No worries anymore - the great cure from this inferiority complex is found. Our enlargement pills are everything that you should need to try in order to get rid of it. Only six month of treatment and your friend is as large as you wanted it to be. You don't need to worry about having a surgery or some other inner penetration into your body as our pills include ingredients that stimulate the growth of your tool.

and I wonder who gets this and says,

"yeah!" This looks legit.

I'm halfway done with a new rap song,

"Santa is a motha fuckin Gangsta"

and I'm completely done with my new Picture song.

I'll post that shit up for you tonight.

All is well,

I hope it's that same with you.

I know this blog isn't hilarious or titillating,

it's hard to keep that shit up sometimes.

but I at least wanted to say hi.

hi.

-p

Nostradamus was a milf hunter.

2009-11-17T14:55:00.006-06:00

I was driving to Walgreens today to pick up some new
hair goop and a toothbrush. They only sell my hair goop
at this one Walgreens in the middle of Beverly Hills.

Funny, because it's some of the cheapest goop on the market.

On the way, the radio was tuned to NPR,
cause I roll like that.

NPR was holding a debate, a discussion,
a serious conversation, about Sarah Palin
being a strong candidate for President in 2012.

That's the year the world is supposed to end, right?

Okay, yeah... she'll probably win.

-p

tee hee hee

2009-11-16T22:39:00.001-06:00

The funniest Nice Peter photo in the world

2009-11-11T16:06:00.004-06:00

I don't mean to brag,
but this is my favorite photo ever.

There's a nice, long, juicy story to go with it,
but that will have to wait for another day.

In the meantime, without further ado,
I present to you, the funniest Nice Peter photo ever:

Something's gotta give

2009-11-10T03:49:00.001-06:00

I've been living in a basement in Chicago
curled up next to a drum set.

It's amazing.

I stay up late,
I wake up late,
there's no sunlight down here
so it all feels the same.

I went on a four day tour with my old band,
we played two awesome shows,
and then there was Green Bay.

I swore I'd never go back to that
god forsaken town years ago.

Pauly talked me into it.

It's not his fault, I was having trouble
finding another show for that date anyway.

The good part is,
I have footage of the three of us
dressed up in a full body camouflage - Donehoo
a karate uniform - Pauly
and an adult size set of red footie pajamas.

-me.

The audience didn't even giggle,
I thought it was hilarious.

We came back for our fiftieth set
of our 4 hour night of music,
stoned out of our heads,
at least I was,
and marched into the bar in those costumes.

I thought the place would burst into laughter.

not even a chuckle.

I looked around,
there was a guy sitting at the bar,
wearing an actual full body camouflage suit.

maybe they didn't think they were costumes at all.

Bret Yager got the whole thing on video,
and then he got me, relatively drunk and high,
lipsinc-ing Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror,
in my red footie pajamas, while playing a giant
upright bass neck connected to a metal garbage can.

It's this weird instrument they have on the stage in Green Bay.

I sang the whole song,
started walking around the bar,
singing the whole song,
grinding on people who were not the least bit amused,
and then I went out onto the street,
and started thumping on the bass-garbage can
about being in Green Bay.

I think it will make for some excellent video.

Pauly was upset because no one videotaped him
on the other side of the bar standing outside in his underwear.

you can't get it all.

We made the long drive to St Paul,
I slept most of the way, so we didn't get too much exciting footage.

But the concert in St Paul was one of my favorites in a long time,
and we got all of that.

I'm very excited to see how it turns out.

oh!

and I found the best name for the DVD,
I think it's going to be called:
Nice Peter - maximum capacity 75.

It pretty much sums up the feel of the mini tour,
and it was a hilarious sign right next to my poster in Green Bay.

You know you've hit the big time when your maximum audience is 75.

Thanks to Pauly and Donehoo and Bret for the laughs and shows and
hard work.

and thanks to you for coming out to see shows.

It means more to me than you probably think.

Even you guys in Green Bay,
cool dude who wants to come to England
and bought us Mandarin bombs,
awesome dudes who came to Neenah and Green Bay,
and everyone else who was there on purpose and friendly,
thanks.

I've been pretty hard on your town,
don't take it personally.

you're welcome to come visit me in this basement while I'm here.

-p

Travels

2009-11-03T18:02:00.000-06:00

What a week it's been.

Let's see,
last Tuesday I woke up,
had a meeting with Break.com
about working with them on making funny videos.

awesome.

Then we hit the road for Oroville, CA,
where I had a gig on Wednesday at a Casino.

Right before we went out the door,
I stopped to check if there were any open mics
in San Francisco or San Diego.

I needed somewhere to stop on the way to Oroville,
which is not the kind of place you want to spend two nights in.

I found one in San Fran, at a hostel called the Green Tortoise.

It's in a dodgy part of town full of strip clubs and bars,

awesome.

We drove all day through the mountains,
ate at Carl's Jr, hit San Fran,
went out drinking, hard, found a blues band
playing at the diviest dive bar I've ever seen.

all they served was Busch on tap.

The blues band is called the Powell Street Blues Band,
fronted by a tiny Japanese woman who actually goes by the name, Yoko.

She played slide guitar and howled,
the homeless guy who was tending bar
gave us lots of free drinks,
we stumbled back the hostel,
which has a party room full of European people.

I jammed on the piano with some new German friends me made,
and we partied until the wee hours.

The next morning it was up early to hit Oroville,
I played my show, hung out with Comedian Shaun Jones,
gambled a bit, smoked some weed with the new homies from
Sacramento out in the parking lot,

then it was time to enjoy the pimped out complimentary hotel suite
with the huge bathtub.

awesome.

The next morning,
we had to wake up early as hell to drop
off Comedian Shaun Jones at the airport,
and I hassled him the whole way for advice.

We had a nine hour drive back to LA,
so we stopped for a nap at some mountain top
vista point, and we stopped for lunch in Lodi, CA.

Lodi is the town from the Creedance song,
"oh lord.... stuck in Lodi again"

and it was cool to see.
We had an awesome lunch,
and hit the road again.

By the time we got back to LA,
it was time to pack, sleep for a few hours,
and then wake up and hit the airport for Chicago.

I had a layover in Salt Lake City, Utah.

I almost missed my flight,
I was running down the hallways
with my guitar in hand.

I was jogging alongside one of those people movers,
the little golf carts that take people around the airport.

An old dude in the back saw my NORML sticket on
my guitar case. (national organization for the reform of marijuana
laws)

He said, "alright, man... NORML.... cool....!"

I thought to myself,
"yeah thanks, old dude, I've got a plane to catch"

"how did you get that sticker, man?"

"oh... um... I wrote a song for a contest of theirs"

"cooollll, man... did you win?"

"yeah, they paid me a thousand bucks, it was great"

still thinking to myself, leave me alone, old man,
I'd love to talk to you, but I'm going to miss my flight.

At that moment I looked right at him for the first time.

slowly, it dawned on me.

I was chatting with Tommy Chong.

as in, Cheech, and Chong.

I stopped in my tracks,
he said something like,
"take it easy.. man"

and I said,
"wow, thanks!"

And that was that.

My flight to Chicago was late,
so I landed at Ohare,
jumped on the Blue Line,
got picked up by Donehoo (the drummer)
and we stopped at Black Rock in Roscoe village
to meet some friends and grab a beer.

quickly!

We grabbed Pauly (bass player)
hopped in the van, and hit the road
for Berwyn, a south suburb.

We got to the club, which had been transformed
from a tiny, little, spooky Cigar Store/ Bar
into a giant, spooky, circus tent out in the parking lot.

There was a decent crowd,
we had about ten minutes to set up and play,
amongst the bed of nails and the creepy dolls
from the freak show the night before.

We did our set, had some fun,
drank some beers, ate some stomach churning nachos,
smoked some weed with skydivers out in a huge truck,
packed up, and went home.

whew.

This week, I've been practicing and writing with
Pauly and Donehoo to get ready for a small tour.

We hired our friend, Bret Yager,
to come along and video tape out journeys and adventures.

We're going to put out a full length DVD of the Nice Peter touring
experience.

And next week, we're off to Michigan to record a new album.

I'll try to post updates as much as possible,
and when I can, I'll stream our practices and misadventures
online, just for you voyeurs out there.

much love from Chicago,

-p

"Japanese People are Weird" Reaches Out

2009-11-02T15:25:00.001-06:00

Hi.

One afternoon,
I made a slide show out
of some funny pictures my roommate
found on the internet.

I sat down with my guitar
and my portable recorder,
and I made up a song about the pictures
as they scrolled along.

I liked the way it turned out,
so I posted it on some websites.

Break.com featured it,
and next thing I know,
it takes off on a small scale for a few days.

Cool.

The coolest part so far?

One of the people in the video
saw themselves and wrote me an email!

here it is, this guy has an awesomely strong sense of humor.

actually, before you read it, you should make sure you watch the video.

The subject line was :

"I was the honor student from Castle Greyskull middle school."
----------------------------
and yes indeed, i attended castle greyskull middle school and
graduated valedictorian, though sadly, during a heated campaign
against us, led by none other than Shemale-Ra, I was unable to
continue my higher education as our entire faculty had been put to
death during the war between Blu-Ray and Hi-Def discs. With Sony
refusing to lose the tek-wars a 2nd time (i.e. Beta vs. VHS), they
did indeed amass weapons of mass consumerism and... um... i digress.
I just wanted to say hey and thanks fer "borrowing" my photo from
somewhere out there (i never saw that particular shot before). I
liked yer lyric too. funny. Ironically a friend of mine was wasting
time on break.com and was just about to shut off yer "japanese people
are weird" song when he unknowingly came across my pic, taken at the
annual San Francisco Big Wheel Rally. He gave me the shout out and
ive been sharing your song with a bunch of friends & family... thanks
again. I'll keep checking back on yer tour dates, as i would love to
catch a live show (don't fret... i'm a fan now).

later

The Honor Student at Castle Greyskull Middle School

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

That made me soooo happy.

-p

China

2009-10-21T17:17:00.001-05:00

Dear People from China,

I've got this fancy new statistics organizer

on my fancy new website that draws me a little

map of the world that shows me where people

are visiting nicepeter.com from.

It seems, that I am getting a relatively

large proportion of visitors from China.

Second only to Los Angeles, and I know

I check my own website several times a day.

who are you?

you intrigue me.

how did you find my website,

and what keeps you coming back to it?

How do I say Nice Peter in Chinese?

I have so many questions for you,

there is so much we can share.

I hope you enjoy my new "Japanese People are Weird"

video, because I have read all about your longstanding

cultural clashes with the Japanese.

It's seems a bit like England and the Welsh.

a centuries old animosity that has evolved

from war to gentle fun poking.

Do you surf in China?

I went surfing for the first time here in Los Angeles.

It was hard.

Really hard.

but I got up on my surf board.

I caught a real wave and I was hooked.

I got a little cocky,

and then I tried to catch an even

bigger wave, and I looked down and

saw that the tip of my surfboard was under water.

I'm no Keanu Reaves, but I know that's not good.

With that tip under the surface,

and that big wave coming behind me,

there was only one thing that could happen.

The back end of the surfboard got tipped all the way up,

and I ended up kicking myself in the back of my own head.

I didn't even know that was possible.

Some of the greatest gymnasts in the world come from China.

Do you know anyone who can kick themselves in the back of the head?

I don't really want to do it again.

On behalf of all of us here at NicePeter.com,

which is pretty much just me,

I'd like to say,

欢迎，获得乐趣，您有美妙的鞋子。

-p

test new blog 2

2009-09-29T20:35:00.000-05:00

give me a second, homie,
I'm just trying to test some
new blog software.

I've got a new website, too,
it's almost done.

It's cleaner than before,
a bit more razzle dazzle,
but it's still pretty simple to use.

While I'm writing,
I might as well tell you some stuff.

Shit here has been crazy.

Good crazy, but crazy.

First off, I quit my job.

I didn't do it in a blaze of glory or anything,
but I definitely did do it.

I'm focusing on my music and comedy
and gearing up for more tours.

I'm coming to Chicago,
playing a tour of the midwest with Pauly and Donehoo on bass and drums.

Then I've got a mini tour of shows
opening for Jim Breuer at the Improv in Schuamburg.

I'm very very excited about that and you and everything.

okay, this was a long test.

-p

Homecoming

2009-09-19T12:54:00.001-05:00

On Thursday morning I woke up at Ed's
house at six am, UK time.

That's eight hours ahead of Los Angeles time.

I took a cab to the train station,
took the train to Manchester airport,
got on a plane at 10 am,
took off at 10:45.

I flew to Atlanta, landing at 3:30 Atlanta time,
that's 8:30 pm UK time.

I had a layover until 5:45, went through customs,
took off at 6, landed in LA at 7:30 California time.

That's 3:30 am UK time. For a total travel time
of 21 and a half hours.

and that's where it got awesome.

I checked into a 4 star hotel
that I got on Priceline for 70 bucks.

I was meeting a lady,
we met.

Ate dinner, drank wine,
drank coffee in an effort
to stay awake late enough to
reset my clock and get past jetlag.

I woke up the next morning at 7:30 am,
couldn't sleep,
woke up the lady...

"hey, let's go downstairs and get some breakfast
and bloody marys and then I'll fall back asleep no problem."

We went, we convinced them to unlock the bar
to serve us cocktails, at 8 am.

We were surrounded by business people,
I was sitting in a cowboy hat and sunglasses
asking for their wine list at 8 am.

It was awesome.

We did not get back to sleep,
we checked out late at 3 pm,
took a cab to my house in LA.

My roommates we're gearing up to visit
some bar in the mountains.

Now, when I tell you that last night
I went to the coolest bar in the world,
surely you can trust me.

I think I am a relatively good authority
on cool bars, having been to a fair number around the world.

This place, was fucking unbelievable.

I was half asleep, riding a current
of coffee, and steady drinking.
I was still in my cowboy hat and sunglasses,
when we turned up at this Ranch Bar.

A bar, on a ranch, in the middle of the mountains,
with tons of money, but not expensive, and no one there
except for a few small groups like us wandering
around not believing how beautiful and awesome it was.

They had ducks, paddle boats,
chandeliers hanging from trees,
all weather mattresses laid out on the grass,
pillows, outdoor couches, frogs, a classy bar,
some kind of chef, trails, and no apparent
rules or regulations.

We stayed there until it was time to leave,
and now I'm waking up and getting ready
to go to the ocean.

England, I love you,
but holy shit, it's good to be home.

-p

It's finished.

2009-09-16T11:49:00.001-05:00

Jesus.

Did I write some stupid love poem
about a bartender last night?

I barely even remember that.

That's what happens after 30 days
of constant driving, playing, partying,
barely sleeping, and certainly never
in my own bed.

I was delirious going into the show last night.

30 days of faithful celibacy,
and last night I was surrounded by girls.

Beautiful girls of all ages and shapes
and colors and accents.

There was a row of 19 year old freshmen,
begging me to sing a song about their nipples.

I did.

They started rubbing them in time to the music
and squealing with delight.

It was like a bad dream,
or a good dream, I'm not sure.

It was a great gig,
and a great way to end off the tour.

I have more footage than I know what to do with,
I'll try to get some highlight videos of for you soon.

And no,
I don't have a picture of the barmaid.

she was lovely, though.
that much I remember.

-p

A letter for a barmaid in England

2009-09-15T22:05:00.001-05:00

I have been faithful
for ten days times three.

But if I can't write love poems
than I can't be me.

You are:

a girl that boys write songs about.

a dream.

a challenge,
like playing chess naked
on a friday, with someone who is really good.

really good.

a flower that can only sniffed,
from a distance, to be safe.

a mystery
and I wonder,
or maybe I'm sure.

ten times
the woman
that I deserve.

-p

Hitting the home stretch in the UK

2009-09-14T12:33:00.001-05:00

Hi.

I'm alive.

I just wanted to write
real quick and tell you that.

I've been playing every night
and driving all day every day since
you last heard from me.

This last stretch has been exhausting.

I played in a pirate bar,
I learned what a dread lock smells like,
I climbed Sir Walter Scott's monument tower,
I ate haggis,
I met people from Colorado and Michigan,
I pooped out yesterday's haggis,
and somewhere in there, I slept.

I'll tell you more later,
I've got another show to run off to.

-p

Dexter and Dougstanhope

2009-09-09T07:04:00.001-05:00

My two new favorite things begin with D.

Dexter,
it's a TV show, I know.

But my friend Trav in Derby gave me the book.
The Omnibus, three books.

and that shit is good.

I tried to watch some episodes online last night,
because I've never seen it,
because I don't have showtime,
and I don't really have a TV.

But, check this out, HULU doesn't work in the UK.

And somehow they know I'm in the UK.

Now, I tried routing myself through an IP
blocker to make it seem like I'm surfing
through America, but that didn't work.

So I still haven't seen the show,
but man... the book is fantastic.

and scary as hell.

And I was sitting in an empty living room
reading about a guy cutting up bodies
piece by piece while they're still alive,
and....
you know those automatic air freshener things?

they usually have them in bathrooms,
every 25 minutes or so they squirt out
a little pump of air freshener?

They always scare the crap out of me in bathrooms,
but when the one went off last night in the living room,
I almost peed my pants.

ironic, really,
or maybe just funny.

Maybe my brain is tricked into thinking
I'm in a bathroom when I hear that noise.

Anyway,
it was a great day off, reading scaring
books and not doing a god damn thing.

My other new favorite is Doug Stanhope.

He's a comic from the states.

I had heard of him, heard he was great,
but I had never seen his work.

It's fucking legendary.

He picks up where Bill Hicks left off,
and just like when Ed introduced me to Bill Hicks,
I felt stupid for not having heard it before,
and I felt invigorated and excited about comedy again.

Unlike Bill Hicks, Doug Stanhope is still alive,
and I'm going to try to catch him live before
he changes that fact.

One last thing,
the lead singer from The President of the United States of America
is now singing children's music.

And it's brilliant,
and he's playing in my old home town of Rochester, NY.

I'm back to Los Angeles in 8 days,
I've got 6 more shows here, but we just added a 7th.

see you soon, somewhere...

-p

UK Video Diary #6

2009-09-07T19:57:00.001-05:00

UK Tour Continued Part 268

2009-09-07T19:31:00.001-05:00

Hi.

I'm still on tour in the UK.

I don't think it's been that long,

but it seems like a very, very long time.

That's what quitting smoking pot does for you,

time just creeps by, and you can remember all of it.

This last string of shows has kicked ass,

I posted up two more videos today on my youtube channel.

It's YouTube.com/Pshukoff,

I'm working on getting the NicePeter one

from this musician dude in Califoria.

I wrote him, telling him who I am,

he wrote back, he knows who I am,

he's been listening to me for years,

that's why he chose the name.

I felt cooler than I probably should have.

Remember all the hooplah over the 50 Cent is a pussy song?

well... some people are still posting hilarious comments on my youtube,

I hate to start posting them again here,

but this one just cracked me up:

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

"hey faggot i got a sonjg for u u saying 50 cent is a puss

but your the one who like a pussy i bet you knocked out anyone but your

fucking gituar some times i look n think what kind of motherfucking nerd

retard prick shit n so your whole mother father fucking u r go back MAN

Why u wasting your time writing rhymes man

go back to rock n roll bands u pussy jerks next time think what u say retard geek nerds faggot"

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

Then wait for the best part,

I had to peek at his profile,

and under "FAVORITE BOOKS"

he had written this:

"i hate book waste of tyme"

That is so funny on so many different levels,

I don't even know what to do with myself.

I've got the night off tonight,

I've got my own room, my own bed,

and I've even got the next day off too.

I'm just going to take it easy tonight,

edit some videos, maybe start posting

some live MP3s or something.

Things are really kicking ass over here,

we're selling a lot of shit, making new fans,

not getting into any real trouble.

I know that makes for rather dull blog posts,

but what can I say? I haven't jumped into

any goat pens, although I did visit

a medieval cathedral today.

Holy shit...

am I getting boring?

I don't think so,

the last video I posted

was called "The Reason Abortion is Legal in England"

and I signed 14 boobs in Blackburn.

If that's a boring life,

than you must be riding

a roller coaster and tripping on mushrooms right now.

Oh, and I smoked pot two days ago,

so don't worry too much about that.

-p

UK Video Blog

2009-09-05T14:17:00.002-05:00

Here's another video for you,
you remember the stories from Kettering?

All the drawings of cocks in the dressing room,
and the song written about the various vulgar scriblings?

Well..
here's some clips:

UK Tour Diary Day Whatever

2009-09-05T14:12:00.001-05:00

Oh gosh.

I'm starting to slip
a little bit on the blog.

Truth is, we're in the middle
of twelve gigs in a row.

A lot of them have long drives,
and pretty much all of them have been long nights.

I'll give you some highlights:

Bideford was awesome,
three sets, great crowd on a Thursday,
and I discovered the joys of picking on the Welsh.

I thought I was getting sick,
but I think that's because I was so
hungover from the gig in London.

I fucking hate London.

I shouldn't say it like that, sorry.

I fucking despise London.

It's a wonderful city,
I guess,
and I'm sure living there
would be lovely.

But driving in and out is hellish,
and we always end up spending too much
money, taking too much time,
and it's almost always the weakest set of the tour.

That said, a dude posted some videos
on my facebook.com/nicepeter if you would
like to see them.

We did have a lovely dinner in London.

We ate at a Nigerian restaurant.

It occurred to me,
why does every dry, hot, water-shortaged climate
produce the hottest, spiciest food?

Mexico, India, African food...

hot as hell.

Can you imagine sweating after eating
a hot bowl of Goat curry in the middle of Africa?

That's what we ate,
no kidding,
Goat curry.

That might have been part of what set me off
to a weird start for the London gig.

Goat curry does not make well
for jumping around onstage.

Lesson learned,
but it was still a wonderful dinner
with some wonderful friends from my
old hometown of Rochester, NY.

I think there's a video of me telling
the story about the Goat curry at the show.

I haven't had the balls to watch them yet.

Tonight I'm in Glossop, in the North, ish...
at the foot of the Pennines,
That's a mountain range here in England.

I'm at a great pub called the Moon and Sixpence,
the pub is already filling up, it's a Saturday,
I feel good, and I think it's gonna be an awesome night.

I'll try to keep you more in the loop,
and I think I have another video diary to show you, too.

-p

UK Video Blog #3

2009-09-01T15:29:00.001-05:00

Day 10 - Paddywhacks

2009-09-01T12:03:00.001-05:00

We woke up on the floor in Kettering,
at Sawyer's pub, a wonderful pub that
is small and local and owned by a wonderful
couple and the way pub's should be.

We drove all the way across the country
to a bar that could not be more different.

And we treated ourselves to the luxury
of a hotel room, 2 nights!

Upon checking in,
I browsed the vending machines,
and I was delighted and freaked out
to see that they sold...
ready for this?

Roast Ox flavored
potato chips.

Roast OX?

you're kidding me.

Of course I had to buy them,
they get really crazy with
their potato chips over here.

and yes, I know,
you call them crisps.

The one behind the Roast Ox
was Ham and Onion.

gross, dude,
gross.

So I bought the Roast Ox Chips,
opened them up,
took one bite,
and my suspicions were confirmed.

Roast Ox Potato chips are gross as hell.

We rested up,
got ready for the gig in Sunderland.

Now last time I played there,
it was after a huge soccer match
between Sunderland and their main rival,
Newcastle.

Sunderland won,
and it was the cheeriest atmosphere
I have ever played in my life.

hundreds of drunk happy
people singing and dancing.

I spent half the set improvising,
and playing covers,
and generally just pounding
away on the Wazinator and
keeping the party going.

It was a blast, I got paid well,
and I stayed sober.

This gig was pretty much the same,
except Sunderland lost that day,
but it was still hundreds of drunks,
dancing and singing,
and I pounded on the Wazinator,
played covers, and kept the party going.

One girl came up to the stage
and started eyeing me provocatively.

I sang about her a bit,
she stayed up there,
as if waiting for something,
and I asked...
"can I help you with something?"

she replied,
without batting an eye,
"yeah... I want you to come down here and fuck me."

jesus christ,
Sunderland girls...

It was a fun set,
if not artistically interesting,
it was definitely a party
and I was the time keeper.

We sang and danced,
and I got highlights on video for you.

I'm trying to catch up
on a backlog of blogs,
so I'll end this one here.

-p

UK Tour Diary Day 9

2009-08-31T11:18:00.002-05:00

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

2009-08-28T11:08:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-27T09:56:00.002-05:00

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

2009-08-26T08:39:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-24T10:33:00.000-05:00

UK Tour Diary Day 4

2009-08-23T07:51:00.002-05:00

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

2009-08-22T05:17:00.002-05:00

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

2009-08-21T10:26:00.001-05:00

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!!

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

2009-08-20T11:47:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-18T14:45:00.001-05:00

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!

2009-08-15T15:09:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-13T03:35:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-11T18:36:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-02T12:26:00.002-05:00

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

2009-08-01T14:27:00.004-05:00

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

2009-06-09T22:07:00.001-05:00

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

2009-06-04T21:01:00.000-05:00

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

2009-06-01T13:57:00.000-05:00

-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

Midwest Tour Day 2

2009-05-22T15:53:00.001-05:00

Ha.

Holy shit.

I met a lot of black dudes tonight.

Rappers,
real ones!

Let me back up.

I woke up at Donehoo's,
late afternoon, you know.

I hung out with his new baby,
a 9 month old who is awesome.

It's been awhile since I could
actually play with a baby comfortably.

Call me strange, but I don't like holding
stranger's or even acquaintances' babies.

But this little dude?
He's my homeboy.

We went to Kitschn for lunch/breakfast.

And I tell you what,
I've travelled all over,
eating hungover breakfast
with a regularity that would
make you think my appetite ate prunes,
and Kitschn has got to be up there in the top 3.

I got my haircut at a funky little joint across the street,
maybe a bit too short on the side, just the one side,
it wasn't her fault, I thought it was poofing out,
and I hate that, so I had her keep cutting,
and now it looks like I slept on the side
of a lawn mower.

A better day today, overall,
it started off the same, a little melancholy.

I'm not sure what it is,
but it's just funny to be back,
in my old neighborhood,
calling people to see who's free
and who's still here.

It feels like going to my parents'
house around Christmas time.

Nice, but a little sad.

So I wandered around all day,
and finally got ready for my show
out in the burbs.

Durty Nellies,
oh jesus christ.

I played there every Wednesday night
last summer, and this is my grand reunion.

The only problem is,
I played there every week last summer!

I've used up every joke, song,
line, and clever bit I ever thought of.

I've got some new ones,
don't get me wrong,
in a year I better have a few new bits.

But,
I couldn't shake the feeling
that everyone was just waiting
for me to get mean and make fun of idiots.

Well,
that's what I did.

There were these women up front,
holy shit,
they. were. dumb. bitches.

40 plus somethings
celebrating somebody's birthday.

I was ready to have fun with them,
nice, innocent fun,
but they started the aggression.

Oh I don't remember how it started,
but I remember how it ended.

They were walking out the door,
and I was saying,
"bye ladies! good luck with your marriages...."

It seemed funny at the time.

The rest of the show passed as shows do,
a little strange, with fun moments,
and one moron talking his head off in the front.

Old dude, who looked like he was dressed
by a stock boy at Foot Locker,
perpetually ready for any tennis
match that might suddenly appear.

Sunglasses on his head,
the nerdy ones that people wear
while playing volleyball or skiing,
or drinking like a douche in a dark bar.

I can't remember the last time
I let loose such a string of insults
at one man sitting three feet away from me.

And he had no clue.

I thought for one second
he might be deaf,
or actually retarded,
because I've had both
of those unfortunate incidents before,
probably at Durty Nellies.

But no,
he was just a loudmouth
with no understanding of
how a live performance is supposed to work.

whatever,
maybe I'm getting bitter in my old age,
or maybe I just expect people to sit....
oh, I don't know.... anywhere but in
the very front fucking row if you don't
want to shut up and watch the show?

So... I did my best,
tried to anyway,
maybe you were there,
and you can comment on what you thought.

I had a couple beers,
but took it real easy,
because I knew I had to
drive all the way back to the city.

I had been invited by Mike
at Soundscape Studios, (he produced Suburban Highschool, my second
album)
to a launch party for a rapper
named Naledge of Da Kidz in the Hall.

I hope I'm spelling any of that properly.

I'd met Naledge before,
and he's a cool fucking dude.

And I knew I was in for a legit party
when Mike asked me if I was wearing dress shoes.

Dress code?

Hot.

So I rolled in at 2 am,
escorted by Mike,
and the doorman said,
"come on in, Nice Peter."

eh?

I first shook hands with a gigantic bald white man.
Gigantic, like...
I handed him a dead mouse in prison
and he healed it.

"Nice Peter!! so nice to finally meet you."

eh?

We kept walking,
I was escorted by Mike
through the crowd,
rappers now mostly,
with names like "Razorlight"
and "Bugsby" and one vivacious
young lady named,
no kidding,
"Sweet Juices"

Everyone seemed happy to meet me,
and had a look of recognition in their eyes.

Wow... did I feel cool.

It turns out,
Mike at Soundscape has
been making a real name for himself
in the hip hop world of Chicago.

And, Rhymefest,
another rapper and legitimate
underground Hip Hop legend,
put me on his new mixtape.

And,
I wrote a song called 50 Cent is a Pussy,
and Mike plays that for every rapper
that comes into his studio.

so, anyway you slice it,
I was one skinny white dude,
shaking hands and taking pictures
and drinking from someone's
VIP bottle of Grey Goose,
sitting on a couch, meeting
girls named "Sweey Juices"
and "Bubbles"

And then I smoked weed outside,
after I was personally ushered by one of the security
guards, out to the place to smoke weed.

I was with a cool group,
and I took a few hits,
and I went back inside...

and I had to dance.

So,
picture my drunk, silly, high ass,
feeling important and cool, surrounded
by brothers, tearing it up on the dance floor.

Well, as much as I can tear it up,
which basically involves rocking
back and forth and waving my arms
like I'm signaling a helicopter.

So that was that,
and now I'm tired and going to bed.

-p

Midwest Tour Day One

2009-05-21T15:32:00.000-05:00

Wow.

It's warmer in Chicago than
it is in Los Angeles.

That's weird.

I packed my coats and sweaters,
I couldn't be caught with no jacket
while I'm singing "Put Your Fucking Coat On"
now could I?

First night has been strange.

More sad than happy,
it's funny being back in my old
neighborhood, and everyone is sleeping
so I'm not out partying.

I'm just sitting in my buddy Donehoo's
spare room, trying to figure out what time
it is in LA, and why I'm so tire but can't sleep.

I got one of those PT Cruisers for a rental car,
and I feel somewhat ridiculous.

I've got my first show tomorrow,
out in the suburbs, at Durty Nellies.

I'll keep you posted.

-p

Blast

2009-05-13T19:11:00.001-05:00

It's kind of an exciting time.

I'm going back on the road,
and that kicks ass.

I planned the tour
when I first got here
to Los Angeles, because
I hated it and thought I would
need a break more than anything.

I don't hate it now.

I'm enjoying myself,
and I'm keeping busy,
and performing, and writing
emails and making videos,
and by the sound of this so far,
writing terribly boring blog posts.

I'm going to take my computer with
me on tour and write you a post
for everyday that I'm on the road.

Will that make up for my relative silence
since I've been out here?

I hope so.

And I hope I can keep up my
end of the bargain.

What do you want to hear about, anyway?

Today I paid lots of bills and looked
into debt consolidation and sent out
some posters and sent an email to the
lady who books the Improv to show her
my new video.

How thrilling.

I'm supposed to be out chasing
chicks and smoking bongs and
drinking beers naked in a hot tub.

I did that last week.

My life isn't boring yet,
just my days.

And by the time I get to night,
I'm usually tired, and there's a girl
waiting for me in bed,
and I gotta tell you the truth,
it fucks with my ability to write.

There's something about being happy,
and not lonely, that has always
been a hinderance to art and expression.

Where do you draw the line, though?

I don't. I'm just figuring it out
as I go along.

I've got two new songs
that I'll be playing in my sets
on the tour. Maybe a third if
I can finish it in time.

And one new cover.

and lot's and lot's of new stories.

So, if you're near where I'm coming,
I hope you can make the trip to see a show.

I've got all the dates up,
and I'll have awesome new tshirts,
and I'm coming all the way from California,
for god's sake, the least you can do
is meet me from Springfield.

I love you and I'll see you soon.

And I'm talking to Ed about the next UK tour,
looks like late August, but nothing confirmed yet.

-p

Dear Gallagher's

2009-05-02T13:06:00.001-05:00

Dear Gallagher's Pub in Huntington Beach,

You know I love you.

You are the kind of little
pub I used to play,
the kind I am used to playing.

A rowdy Irish bar
with a heavy drinking
crowd that is there to
booze and see music
as a side note.

I like the challenge,
it's how I cut my teeth so sharp.

"hey.... pub! listen to me!
I've got something funny to say
and I'll keep trying to convince
you it is worth your attention"

if all else fails,
bring a drunk dude
onstage to play backup
percussion.

In this case,
on this past Tuesday night,
the drunk dude in question
was a surfer named Trent.

Trent, you know I love you.

You joined me for the first song,
egged on by the dude in the front
with the Tom Selleck mustache.

You were actually good at that kid's
bongo I gave you to play,
years of experience at beach
side drums circles paid off.

You were welcome to stay
onstage for the set, why not?

That rowdy pub crowd can
be a tough bunch to win over.

The key is, building momentum,
never letting the energy drop
or the crowd interaction falter
so gradually the entire bar
feels like they are part of the show.

It worked! It was working,
there we were, in front of that
rough Gallagher's crowd,
rocking our balls off.

The dudes in the front were laughing,
the ladies in the back were smiling,
we even got that dark and silent
bartender to chuckle.

Everything was going great,
and at the peak of energy,
the promoter jumped onstage,
grabbed the microphone,
and said this:

"is anyone missing a girl?
we have a girl passed out
on the bathroom floor and
nobody knows who it is..... anyone
missing a girl?"

Alright! On with the comedy....
hey!.... hey!.... why isn't anyone
looking up here anymore?

Oh, yeah, maybe because they're
looking at the fucking bathroom
to see what the hell is going on.

Maybe I'll make a joke,
"wow.... I've never heard
a human being so described
as a bookbag. anyone missing
a black leather bookbag, anyone?"

Then the promoter looks at me,
and tells me sternly, "this is pretty serious,
don't joke around about it"

That's fine, I agree.
Don't joke around about
girls passed out on the floor.

However, I would also add
that maybe you should avoid
talking about girls passed out on the
floor as if they are lost wallets during
the middle of a comedy show.

It's bound to make things a bit weird.

What should I do?

Trent, my new buddy, up here onstage
protecting me with your bongo skills...
we were kicking ass just a second ago,
how do we win this crowd back over?

Trent..... where are you going?

Trent?

Oh, that's Trent's girlfriend in the bathroom.

what a night.

Wait till you see what happens next month.

-p

Happy 4/20 America

2009-04-20T03:37:00.001-05:00

As we gather to celebrate this
holiday of weed smoking.

I'd like to reflect on things,
some good, some bad,
all important to my life.

I'd like to,
but the girl in my bed
just hassled me for
still sitting at the computer.

So,
I'll be brief.

I live in Los Angeles,
I've been here since December 4th.

And I can say,
officially,
without hesitation,
that I'm doing well.

Things have started to catch on,
at least a little bit.

I'm playing a lot of shows this week,
and next, and my gig schedule
is generally filling up.

I've got the song titles
laid out for a new album,
and verses and choruses written,
still piecing together, but started.

But most and best of all,
beyond any of my dreams, hopes,
goals, and ambitions.

I have one accomplishment
that really makes me think I'm
starting to hit the big time.

someone,
someone I do not know...
turned one of my songs
into a Guitar Hero track.

Please see the post below
where I flipped out.

Goodnight,
goodluck,
and I love you all.

I really do.

-p

holy shit

2009-04-19T15:01:00.001-05:00

holy shit holy shit holy shit.

holy.

shit!

check this out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcKBgbQ6Nl0

Lovely

2009-04-15T19:47:00.001-05:00

Hi.

I'm sorry I haven't been more talkative,
keeping you up to date with the thrilling
news of my last couple weeks.

Which, to be honest, has not been thrilling,
but there have been some nice moments.

I had sex this morning,
that was cool.

My dear friend Mark and
his lovely wife Emily have started
a blog about eating good food, and drinking
fine drinks, on the cheap.

Or at least the reasonable.

They asked me to share it with you,
and I am happy to do so:

http://www.inthemaking.wordpress.com/

enjoy.

and stay tuned,
I'm seeing a doctor on Friday
to see about getting a ritalin
prescription, and if you've ever seen
me on ritalin, well... I don't usually ever shut up.

You see, I've got some problems with..
how you say... doing anything?

I start every day with a hundred plans,
I touch on each one,
finish none,
and there's the sun setting.

ugh.

So, in my general process
of trying to get better,
I'm turning to an old reliable friend.

drugs.

But here in California they call it

medication.

All I'm saying is,
stay tuned,
I've got a lot of stories to tell you.

And if you are in Chicago right now,
I can't wait to see you again.

-p

jesus

2009-04-03T12:11:00.001-05:00

I just read a book called,
"Happy Birthday Jesus"

It was terrible.

I just saw a music video
by a band called "Hey Monday"

It was even worse.

Oh dear sweet jesus,
that was a terrible band.

I'd never heard of them before,
but they splashed on the front
of my Myspace login page,
and something made me click.

It is pure manufactured poop music.

Of course, they are on a huge
tour of England, Japan, and Europe
with Fall Out Boy, so, it's very popular poop music.

The best and worst part was,
before the video started,
there was a little 8 second
anti-drug commercial
against smoking weed.

This combined with the fact
that I had just been browsing
the Best 500 Rock Songs of All Time book,
made me really sad for the state of rock and roll.

-p

Miller Beer Songs

2009-03-27T22:00:00.001-05:00

Lot's of people have been asking to hear the Miller Beer radio songs.

So...
I'll try to post them here, at the bottom of this entry.
I'm not too handy at HTML in blog posts, but I'll give
it my best shot.

I started getting some checks from the radio stuff,
and I used one to buy an awesome new keyboard.

It's big, it has weighted keys so it feels like a piano,
and it's in my living room. So I can come home stoned
after a long night of poker and play until five in the morning.

Like last night.

I won ten dollars.

I'm trying to teach myself from scratch how
to read music and play the piano.
I took lessons as a kid, but that was then,
and all I remember is Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge.

I've been a good boy, I want some fudge.

The keyboard was on sale because
it was all scratched up, which doesn't bother me
at all, and it allowed me to get a way more expensive
keyboard than I normally could afford.

It has beats, and sounds, and synths, and arpeggios,
and all sorts of shit that I can't even figure out how to use yet.

Thanks to everyone who came out to the show
at the Improv Comedy Club last week here in Los Angeles.

It was a blast, I felt really good about the show,
and I hope to be back there soon.

without further ado..
may I present Miller Beer song number 1:

<a href="http://www.nicepeter.com/nicepetermillerrnb.mp3">Miller
RnB</a>

TuneCore Music Player

2009-03-12T05:41:00.001-05:00

TuneCore

Miller Genuine Draft

2009-03-06T19:59:00.001-06:00

I think it's finally safe for me to tell you about this,
in fact, one of the guys at the agency asked me
why I hadn't put the tracks up on my website yet.

so...

I recorded two songs for Miller Brewing Company.

They're going to be on the radio,
I think in Chicago, and California,
and some other markets.

So if you hear a song on the radio
in a commercial ad you think to yourself...
"hey.. that sounds a little like Nice Peter!"

it is.

The story is,
I was in the right place at
the right time.

Drinking Mojitos with
some ad agency guys,
when they told me about
an idea they were working
on for a Miller ad.

The basic idea is,
draft beer is good,
and MGD tastes like draft beer,
so you can drink draft beer, anywhere.

I said, through a haze of
mojitos and pot smoke,
"that would make a cool country song!"

"I.... had a draft beer in the dessert..."

ha ha ha,
yes.. it sure would.
maybe some day...

two days later,
I got an email.

"Hey... you remember that song
you were talking about? do you think
you could record a demo of that... today?"

I guess so, why not?

So I recorded a demo,
it got sent, it got played for the big wigs,
it got loved, it got submitted to Miller,
they bought it, asked for more, I recorded
another one, they bought that, and all
of the sudden I'm getting offered a lot of money
to go into a pro studio with a guy named Fish
playing the drums and an entire studio
full of professional musicians asking me
for direction.

holy shit.

it was quite a whirlwind.

We laid those two down,
and I wrote the next two,
and I got an agent, and
I joined a union, and I did
conference calls, ad it was crazy.

Oh... and I got a free tuna melt during the session,
I have to admit that was my favorite part.

It was all the same week that I won
that money for that song about legalizing marijuana.

So, long story short, I made a lot of money
singing songs about weed and beer.

funny.

In other news,
I've been getting together
with my friend Cory and writing
some new songs.

"Yo Madonna... how you like me now?"

that's the opening line from one of them.

Things are pretty good here in Los Angeles,
I sold my soul to Miller Beer, but I think
I got a pretty good deal.

and I drank a whole lot of MGD.

My dayjob still sucks,
I work at a restaurant,
and I'm not at liberty to say which one,
because I have a feeling over the next couple
weeks I'll have to start telling you horror stories.

Yesterday I got an angry phone call from my boss.

He asked if I closed the restaurant the night before.
real serious.

"yes... I did"

"well... you messed up. big!"

shit, I thought I left a door unlocked,
or some liquor was stolen, or a dog got in,
or the place was on fire.

I messed up big.

"the tea boxes were not full,
and neither was the balsamic vinegar!"

oh.

that's why you called me?
twice?

to tell me the herbal tea box
was not full enough for your liking?

are you kidding me?

whatever, it's a job, and
it's better than looking for a new job.

and until I start making beer commercials full time,
it will have to do.

I hope you're doing well,

-p

a happy day in a week of glum

2009-02-21T18:19:00.001-06:00

I have to admit it to you.

LA is kicking my ass.

My job?

kicking my ass.

My music career?

More like stinging my ass like a wasp
on cocaine.

It's rough going out here,
it's a mean city full of lost
people with shattered dreams,
and tiny dicks in big expensive cars.

I swing back and forth between
being pretty miserable and feeling
rather hopeless, and feeling really
good like anything is possible.

I got some good news today,
and I'm coasting on that for a while.

Remember that contest with
the song about legalizing marijuana?

well...
I won.

A thousand dollars!

holy shit.

I didn't win first place,
but then.. I didn't deserve to,
the guy who won made a much
better commercial than mine.

So I want to thank you for voting,
if you got a chance to.

I have a lot of emails to reply to,
from people who entered my little contest.

But each one makes me feel great,
so it's a happy task.

I haven't decided who to write
a song about yet, but I'll find
a way to choose and get that done,
and get it posted up here for you.

In the meantime,
I hope you're staying warm,
I had to use a thin blanket last night,
it dipped into the fifties.

much love,

-p

a song about writing songs

2009-02-02T19:24:00.000-06:00

How do you write a song
about writing songs?

I tried.

A friend of mine used
to work for a guy that
licenses songs for movies and TV.

He has a team of songwriters
that come up with songs
in different genres that he
can then sell to people
who need music.

Sounds like a great job.

You get an email saying,
"we need sarcastic rock songs
that sound kind of like the Foo Fighters"

and then you write something,
record it, and hope somebody buys it.

So....
I had to convince this guy
that I could write stuff like
that pretty easily.

I compiled a demo of my recordings,
but they all said "tits" or "fuck" at the good parts.

Maybe Nice Peter tracks weren't going to work.

When all else fails,
write something new.

So I wrote this guy,
Mitch,
a little song about
how it's easy for me to write
songs in different genres.

It was harder than I expected.

but here it is,
in case you're curious:

www.nicepeter.com/dearmitch.mp3

-p

The good and the ugly

2009-02-02T00:18:00.001-06:00

I got an email from South by Southwest.

Essentially saying,

they like me, they want

to book me, but they haven't

booked me, but they want to,

but they probably can't, but they might.

I had no idea how to take that

or what to do. I just imagined

a intern who has to send out

all those emails, and answer

all the responses, and I wrote

a song to them.

you can hear it here:

http://www.nicepeter.com/SWSX.mp3

In other news,

did you hear that Michael Phelps

was caught on camera smoking a huge bong?

The photo was published, and people are freaking out

about it.

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

Michael Phelps' apology for using a marijuana pipe presents an opportunity to talk to young athletes about drug use, poor judgment and how to learn from a mistake, Long Island swim coaches said.

Long Island coaches said they would use the incident as a teachable moment, driving home the point that drugs undermine athletic performance and that Phelps will suffer the consequences of his actions, losing esteem, and perhaps endorsements.

"It's upsetting on so many different levels," said Bill Kropp, head coach for varsity boys swimming at Sachem East High School, where the swim team swelled this year with students inspired by Phelps.

"As a coach, you bring up role models, and obviously he is the poster boy of excellence," Kropp said. "It's something that he has to live with, and we have to live with as coaches and parents."

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

Maybe it's California getting to me,

or maybe I'm hung up on all this

NORML legalization stuff, but can't

there be another lesson to be learned here?

That is,

"you can smoke a little pot sometimes,

and still be one of the most successful

athletes in the history of competition"

"Marijuana... it's really just not that bad for you."

Speaking of NORML, and marijuana, and such.

Did I tell you about that contest I entered into?

Well.. if I didn't...

NORML (national organization for reform of marijuana laws)

had a video contest to create an ad about legalization.

You had to use a bunch of statistics and direct

the focus of the ad at President Obama.

so..

I wrote a song,

and made a cartoon out of some

images I licensed from Istockphoto.com

The grand prize is $3,500!!!

and the voting among the finalists

takes place online.

If you would like to vote for me,

please do. you don't have to register

or anything, just visit the link below,

read the instructions, and click on "vote now"

http://norml.org/index.cfm?Group_ID=7707

-p

A Letter to my glass of Vodka with Olive Juice

2009-01-16T03:27:00.000-06:00

Dear Glass of Vodka with some Olive Juice,

The last time you and I hung out,
I was miserable.

I remember it pretty clearly,
considering the circumstances.

I was 25 years old.

I had just broken up
with a girlfriend of 2 years.

I was a mess.

I started drinking you
every night for a week,
until I passed out in my blue jeans.

It seemed to help at the time.

It got me through the breakup,
if you consider getting back together
getting through a breakup.

Tonight, we meet again,
after so many years.

I was out on my new balcony,
in my new apartment,
in a new city.

Same old Vodka with Olive Juice.

but this time,
I was happy.

I was almost giggling.

I'm doing well,
vodka.

I'm not sure what I'm doing,
and I get depressed sometimes
when I listen to my itunes
late at night all drunk and stoned.

Cause usually at that time
I go back and listen to all the
tracks I used to make,
and I wonder where I've
really gone from when I started.

In Chicago, where I was,
for...holy shit... 8 years?

that can't be right.

maybe seven years.

And I listen to tracks
and demos and silly little
songs I've written to girls
named Jessica and Kristen
and Shannon and Sarah Palin.

I used to write songs all the time
about people who I found who
I thought might be able to help me.

Jessica was the booking agent
at a college agency in Buffalo,
Kristen used to run a talent show
in New York City, now she plays
the crazy female fan on Flight of the Conchords.

Shannon was this girl
I met an open mic and
knew that I could be in love with,
but it wouldn't work out,
so I wrote a song about that.

I gave it to her,
she never really talked to me again.

weird.

So why am I telling you all this?

Because I drank you,
and that's what you do to me.

It's like the perfume of the girl
you dated in highschool.

You smell it,
it takes you back,
and then you look
around at where you are now.

And you're either happy,
or totally depressed.

tonight,
I'm happy.

Because, yes,
I made all those songs,
and I don't know if I can
make any that are as good,
or not.

But,
at least I made them.

and this one I'm listening to now,
I just recorded yesterday.

-p

A letter to my mom

2009-01-14T22:30:00.000-06:00

Dear Mom,

I'm doing fine.
I'm just finishing up an entry
to the NORML video ad contest.

grand prize is $3,500.

I wrote a song
using all the statistics about
money spent on arrests and stuff,
and compared it to other things
you could buy with it.

I don't have internet at my apartment yet,
but I do have a very nice balcony.

I'm at a kinko's down the street from my house.

there's a little kid who is screaming a lot.

I think he's retarded.

The brakes on my car wore down,
it was wearing metal against metal.

I had to get them replaced
and it cost $250, which was rough.

But now I have shiny new brakes,
and I might have $3,500,
and that would be awesome.

I'd pay off some credit cards,
go out to dinner,
and get a prescription for marijuana.

You can do that here, it's crazy.

I had to turn on the air conditioning
in my car this morning.

-p

The upside of hightimes.

2008-12-29T00:22:00.001-06:00

Today,
has been a good day.

First off, thank you
to all the wonderful ladies
and boys who have responded
in kind to the donation email I sent out.

If you didn't get the email,
it went something like this:

I moved out to LA,
on a whim, and I forgot
how important a job and
a place to live can be,
and they have both been
extremely difficult to find,
so I've set up a donation page
that allows you to purchase two
never before released MP3s,
the Get Low cover by Lil Jon,
and a recording of Spanglish
that I did at a full studio with a full band
that I wasn't happy with at the time.

the link is this:
www.nicepeter.com/donate.html

you can donate anything you wish,
and you'll be sent to a page that
let's you download the songs.

That's that,
enough of that.

Today!

I got an email from a man who works
for NORML.

the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws.

He wants to do an interview with me tomorrow.

how cool?
very cool.

I responded to his email,
and went to go check out the site.

It turns out, they are having a video
contest, with a grand prize of $3,500,
to make a video about the horrible
consequences of marijuana laws in the US.

As it turns out, we're approaching
the 20 Millionth arrest for marijuana.

That is pretty fucking ridiculous.

So...
inspired by my friend, Happy Joel,
whom I mentioned earlier and you should
definitely check out: www.happyjoel.com

I am going to enter the contest.

I'm already writing the song,
it's going to have a music video,
with lot's of mexican guys and street bums from Venice Beach.

fantastic!

And I'm going to win some money,
and I'm going to be able to afford...

weed.

So, after that,
I went to the Los Angeles
County Museum of Art.

It's free after 5 pm.

Actually...
it's based on donations
after 5 pm, anything you can afford,
which I found hilarious given my present situation.

I went to see the awesome art,
it was awesome.

I also went to see the William Hearst collection.

Now that, was incredible.

William Hearst was an incredibly rich man
who collected an astounding number
of incredibly cool pieces of art.

I saw a Roman vase from 500 BC,
and I saw a painting that I've seen in books.

like.. a lot.

"whoa!! that's that painting from all the books.... right there!"

I found out what that painting smells like.

I saw suits of armor and tapestries
and all this fantastic art that was
collected by William Randolph Hearst...

who was also!

A major player in the instatement
of the marijuana laws that I am
going to help fight to change.

What a beautiful world.

don't believe me?

http://www.illuminati-news.com/marijuana-conspiracy.htm

i love you.

-p

Twitter and Happy Joel

2008-12-28T17:00:00.001-06:00

My friend Happy Joel wins contests for a living.

no kidding.

I met up with him last night,
had a blast,
and learned about something called Twitter.

I have no idea what twitter is,
I've heard about it,
and it sounded silly to me,
but he said some people love it,
and you can send updates to your
blog from your cell phone.

now that,
to me,
sounds kind of fun.

the ability to write,

"I am smoking weed with
a fat guy in a bear costume
in Wyoming."

that's nifty.

So, I set up a twitter page.

If you're into twitter,
by all means, join me.

it's at
www.twitter.com/nicepeter

I still don't understand exactly
how or why it works or who likes it,
but it's not up to me to decide what
people enjoy or don't.

I figure, I'll tell some silly
stories about fat guys in bear costumes,
and if it makes one person happy,
I'm happy.

by the way,
I'm pretty happy out here.

it's hard,
and a weird time of year,
but things are looking....

sunny.

-p

California, continued

2008-12-16T04:02:00.001-06:00

Holy shit, dude.

This town is crazy.

Last night,
we went to an
open mic in Hollywood.

It was at the Kibitz Room,
next to Canter's Jewish deli.

A 24 hour deli
that serves Jewish food
to people like Slash from Gun's and Roses.

There's a picture of him eating
corned beef on the wall.

The open mic itself was pretty cool,
I played Fuck Guitar Center,
that's usually my song of choice
at a room full of musicians.

We only got one song each,
I'm starting from scratch here, remember.

There was one dude who
looked, sang, and behaved
exactly like the guy from
"Chocolate Rain" on youtube.

exactly.

like, so much
that I had to look
up the video when I got
home to make sure it wasn't really him.

It wasn't.

But this guy sang
Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire,
A Cappella,
in a deep ass voice,
for no reason.

and no one even blinked.

it was no surprise,
no big deal,
nothing novelty.

just that crazy dude
who comes in and joins
all the other crazy dudes
in Hollywood.

Like Artie Vegas.

He is the lead singer
of the Artie Vegas review.

A seven piece band,
fronted by Artie himself,
who was dressed in a sequin
vest with musical notes all over it,
and a long black cape.

I smoked a joint with him outside.

I just had to, right?

So we stuck around after the
open mic, to see a country band,
and then the Artie Vegas review.

There was a hot chick
who was dancing all over the place,
a beautiful girl named Amy
who was doing a photo shoot
with an old Jewish man,
and a crackhead lady
asking everyone if they
could smell her vagina.

crazytown.

That was last night.

Tonight,
we went out to a comedy show,
so I could meet the girls who book it,
and then we crashed my friend Scott's
party at a big, big place in Santa Monica,
ate the rest of his free food,
saw Scott, met his friends,
and convinced a guy that
he should move to Chicago.

I do miss it,
but this is one hell
of a crazy town.

And I'm going out every night,
meeting people, playing a song
here and there, and things are going...
well...
I'm not sure yet,

but they're going.

-p

California

2008-12-12T01:28:00.001-06:00

I didn't really tell anyone,
I didn't really plan anything,
I just kinda left.

and moved to California.

I don't have a job,
an apartment,
or a plan.

but I'm happy...!

Let's see...
what to tell you?

Well, for starters,
last night I slept
in a King Size Suite
at a Casino in Northern California.

It had a Jacuzzi tub,
and the biggest shower I've
ever seen.

I had a gig there,
it came with the room.

the gig kinda sucked,
but the bath was cool.

I laid out in the bathtub,
with company,
smoking a joint,
drinking a beer,
and not even touching her legs.

It was that big.

I got the weed
for the joint from
some hippies I met
in Sebastopol.

This one is hard to explain,
I didn't steal the weed,
and they didn't give it to me.

I brushed it off the couch,
and figured...
well...
there's no sense wasting that.

that's right.

I brushed loose
pieces of weed off the couch,
so I could sit down,
next to the jar of weed
that was bigger than my head.

That was separate from the
tupperware container of weed
in the kitchen.

I think that was for cooking.

Let's just say,
these guys had a lot of fucking dope.

They all had the prescription.

Legal.

Weed.

I love this country.

We met these guys
at an open mic we
showed up to.

We had nowhere to sleep.
didn't know anybody,
and we are quickly running
out of money.

So we found an open mic,
I played,
I told the audience I
was looking for a place to crash.

and this cool, funky dude
in dreadlocks came up
to me and asked if we
wanted to sleep in his treehouse.

that's right.

treehouse.

It was the most deluxe
treehouse I have ever seen
in my life.

It had insulated windows.

so that's where we slept,
high off our gourds.

We woke up
with mountains in the background,
and a dude juggling in the backyard.

It was fantastic.

I hope I explained this all right,
it's been quite a crazy few days.

talk to you soon,

-p

Updater-a-doodle

2008-12-01T01:06:00.001-06:00

I'm in Van Horn.

Texas.

From my calculations,
I haven't written you any stories
in a long time.

I'm sorry,
I have a lot to tell.

Also from my calculations,
since I last wrote you anything,
I've played within spitting distance
of both sides of the Atlantic Ocean.

Here's a quick recap:

I finished up my England tour,
it was awesome, lot's of crazy shit happened,
lot's of gigs happened, I almost puked onstage,
which was, in it's own way,
awesome.

I finished up six weeks
on the road in the UK
on Monday night,
I flew to Chicago on Tuesday,
landed,
slept,
woke up,
got my car,
played a gig
in Chicago,
on Wednesday night.

That night,
I slept at a stock
broker's apartment,
that had an elevator
that opened up right into
his apartment,
that was fucking cool.

On Thursday,
I picked up all my stuff that
was stashed at Pauly's,
Jamie's, and the recording studio.

Then I hit the road again
with my girlfriend.

She and I drove to Buffalo,
New York, where I had a gig.

That sucked.

The venue,
which I shall not name,
but it starts with a "B",
and ends with a "roadway Joe's",
fucked me.

I've played there three times,
never had a problem,
but this time they gave me
all kinds of hassle over the money.

I ended up calling the owner at home,
waking him up, and telling him
I'll never step foot in his bar again.

It's about time I got that kind of balls.

Standing up for myself,
at least a little bit,
I learned that from Ed in England.

Anyhow,
I left Buffalo,
went to visit my parents in Rochester, NY,
rested for a couple days,
and then hit the road again.

We went down the coast,
played an open mic in Pennsylvannia,
where.... low and behold,
a dude in the crowd knew my songs.

That was awesome.

We kept heading south,
to South Carolina, for three gigs,
one at a naval base,
one in front of 300 people,
that was also awesome.

We met three cool bands,
and had a little mini tour.

They are:
Enter the Era,
One Way Out,
and Framing Hanley.

All cool guys.

Then we hit Daytona Beach,
Florida.

And stayed with my friend Flood.

Lead singer of the one and only White Trashistan.

I love you, guy.

He manages a hotel...
about..... fifty yards from the ocean.

We stayed there for free
for three nights.
and played a gig at
an Irish Pub with the
best damn beer selection
I have ever seen.

That was fucking awesome.

Then we drove across to
Mobile, Alabama, to spend
Thanksgiving with the lady's
family, ate food, slept,
and hit the road again.

This time headed for Texas,
where we stayed last night
with my cousin, George.

He is seventy something years old.

and I haven't seen him since I was nine.

And he is awesome.

He owns a 25 acre ranch,
three sheep, a cat,
and a donkey.

This morning,
I shot a gun at a cactus.

I've never fired a gun before,
I was very careful.

and I fucking nailed
that cactus.

It was awesome.

I love you,
I miss you,
and I'll try to write
you more, I promise.

Oh...
and by the way,
I'm moving to Los Angeles.

-p

Good Luck, Chicago

2008-11-03T20:57:00.001-06:00

so,
tomorrow you're having
a huge party in Grant Park.

and I won't be able to be there.

good luck, Chicago,
I hope you have something
to celebrate.

-p

dear America

2008-10-29T21:43:00.001-05:00

Dear America,

I'm sorry if I was a little hard on you the other day.

Was I?

I don't even know,
but I think I may have
said something about
everything going better for me
over here in England.

I didn't mean it,
their showers pretty
much suck ass.

And I miss you.

America,
I miss you,
and I'm looking
forward to coming
back and playing
for you again.

I think I'm going to add
one show in Chicago in November
before I hit the road, indefinitely.

what do you think?

and,
I have a present for you,
just so you can see what
it's like for me over here.

I have a recording of the first
half of a concert in Bideford, England.

It's a small town on the southwest coast.

The recording is one big file,
43 Megs, it might take a second to download.

but you can find it here:
http://www.nicepeter.com/nicepeter_liveinbideford.mp3

much love,

-p

Nice Peter in London, 22 Oct

2008-10-21T10:52:00.000-05:00

Nice Peter in London on Wed, 22 Oct

I don't know why I'm writing a blog to post this,

but Ed says it's a good idea. He's my manager,

maybe I'll tell you more about him and touring

in general, to make this a more legitimate blog,

and not just a post about a gig in London.

But let's get that out of the way first.

I'm playing a gig in London.

On Wednesday, the 22 of October.

It's at 229, aka Club Fandango.

229 Great Portland Street, London W1W 5PN

(very close to Euston Station)

admission is 6 pounds, steep, but hey, it's London.

Music starts at 8 pm, I go onstage at 10 pm.

If you're in London, or feel like making a trip,

I'd love to see you there.

In other news,

I am halfway through the calendar dates

of this UK tour,

but I have 21 shows left to go.

This weekend, I play two double headers,

on Friday and Saturday.

Luckily, our friend Liam,

from Sheffield, is driving us around.

He drives fast.

This will help me in several ways,

first, and perhaps most important,

allowing me to drink during shows.

Beer, pints, shots, and bottles

have become an integral

part of the Nice Peter show,

especially here in England.

I don't know if that's sad,

or awesome, right now,

it feels pretty awesome.

It gives me just a little

more confidence onstage,

false confidence, perhaps,

but it allows me to take the risks

and say the things that usually

end up being the most memorable

part of the show.

What can I say?

It's fun.

the shows in the UK,

on a whole, have been fantastic.

Weston Super Mare is the strangest

place I have ever been in my life.

We got weed from a crack head,

I'm sorry, a former crack head,

and, well... that's really weird.

The gig was a circus,

any comedy in any of

my songs was completely outshined

by the characters and the comedy

of the audience itself.

This was one show,

especially, where what

I had written before

was essentially thrown

out the window.

All I had to do was strum

a few chords and point

out the simple ridiculousness

of the people in the room.

It works, sometimes.

I made a return trip to

West Kirby, which is outside

of Liverpool.

It ended up being even

better than the first,

but again, due to the

enhancing effects of

San Miguel Lager

and one shot of Vodka,

I ended up picking on the one

guy in the room who had absolutely

no sense of humor.

I found out later that his

wife had also left him...

that day.

Oops.

well,

it wasn't my fault.

I'm more than willing

to work with any member

of the audience,

I can feel when they are pissed off,

and I can feel when they have had enough.

but,

for fuck's sake,

it is a comedy show.

You knew that when you walked in,

and it's not going to stop for another hour,

so if its really bothering you,

there's the door.

everyone else is laughing,

except for you,

grumpy sweater guy

who's wife had just left him.

I'm sorry your wife left you,

maybe it was because you

have no sense of humor.

I didn't even ever say anything

mean to the guy.

I was just busting his chops about his

sweater, and I think I said something

about the "lady standing next to him

maybe being his girlfriend,

or maybe that other guys girlfriend,

or maybe both... "

In retrospect, that might be what

set him off. Some young punk

suggesting that the cute woman

standing next to him was his girlfriend,

when he was in fact newly single,

and then going on to point out

that he was wearing a funny jumper.

Anyhow,

he stood there at the very front,

fuming at me.

I'm talking fuming,

like a Puerto Rican guy

moving his lips furiously

before he punches you in the face.

I tried to ignore it,

but how the hell could I?

You don't not notice

a guy standing three feet

in front of your face,

ready to punch it.

Hell, he could have reached

me with a step.

So I tried to diffuse,

while still keeping some humor,

it had no effect.

Have you ever tried

to reason with a Volcano?

It doesn't work,

if it starts to grumble,

it will go off, no matter

how funny you are.

He left.

finally,

to get more fucking

money to come back

and drink at the bar!

you're kidding me.

fine, whatever,

I left him alone,

he minded his own,

and stopped paying attention

business, at a very fun show,

which seems stupid to me,

but, whatever.

I apologized to him,

very sincerely, during a break.

I really did.

No jokes,

I said,

"I'm really sorry,

things got carried away,

I didn't realize you were actually

getting so upset, and I've tried

to leave you alone from then on."

He kinda just stood there.

So I figured,

problem solved,

Volcano, diverted.

But as he left,

during a pause between songs,

he came up to me onstage and said...

"I'll give you a tip...."

okay!

here it comes,

some funny one liner

from an edgy British guy...

he'll wrap it all up,

get a huge laugh,

and every will love everyone

again.

I expected something about the sweater.

what he actually said was,

"stay in your own fucking country"

wow.

what a dick.

-p

Good morning

2008-10-18T08:08:00.001-05:00

Good morning,
I'm in Plymouth, England,
on the ocean, overlooking
the coast, and the sun is shining,
which is weird for this country.

I got up last night in front
of approximately 300 English
people who have never heard of me,
at 1:30 in the morning.

I was playing at the White Rabbit,
and the guy who runs it is named Dan,
and he wants me to tell you more stories
about it.

so here's some stories.

I got up,
and there were two girls dancing
to the song that the very serious DJ
was playing before I went on.

I say very serious,
because she had a table
and everything.

DJs crack me up,
they get really into it.

A laptop plugged into
a stereo system is just
a guy playing music,

but a laptop on a stage,
on a big table, is a DJ, baby.

But the music was good,
I'll give her that,
and the girls were dancing,
they were the only ones
near the stage.

Everyone else was spread out
into this huge club, and drinking,
heavily, and cheaply.

It was "pound a pint" night.

Which means,
essentially,
two dollar drafts.

Not bad for a Friday.

The special started at midnight,
and ran until two am,
and the bar was open...

until 5.

I stayed until six.

I played at one thirty,
to the two girls in the front,
and I started singing about
"pound a pint" night.

I put it on the loop pedal,
"a pound a pint, a pound for jager,
it's a fucking cheap night for drinking"

It had a catchy little tune,
I looped it over and over,
and the girls kept dancing,
and started singing,
and seven lonely guys on the wall
took notice, and one smiled,
and some cool guys in the back
noticed that something interesting
was going on, and a guy named Ricky
jumped onstage with the tambourine,
and next thing you know,
I'm playing to a big crowd
right at the front of the stage,
laughing and dancing along.

It was that easy,
and it was awesome.

that might be my favorite
thing to do, convince a big,
fun group of people that I'm
worth listening to.

It doesn't work everytime,
especially in America.

I'm sorry, America,
it just doesn't.

I'm afraid I might rag on
the American's a lot.

But you know what I mean,
you must have felt it.

Like the Matrix,
there is something
you can tell isn't right
about the way we go out,
and the way we appreciate things,
and you are smart,
but that guy next to you
sure is a fucking dumbass.

Maybe I'm crazy,
but I just seem to go over
differently over here.

I had the bulk of the crowd
interested and listening by the end.

I'm not bragging,
I'm just proud and happy about it.

It feels good.

Ricky, on the tambourine,
he stayed up for most of the set.

He just did a good job,
just kept the beat going
and gave me something to play off.

He said to me afterwards,
"man... that was a rush"

yeah, it really is.

..
So then,
I smoked a joint with
a cool English guy
and talked philosophically.

then I smoked another joint
with a girl named Cat,
and her friend who's name
I didn't catch.

They were an interesting pair,
I'm pretty sure by the end of the night,
I told them, "look, I'd love to have sex with
both of you, but I can't have sex with either of you"

I had quite a bit to drink, and smoked two joints,
and I'm pretty certain that's exactly what I said.

I was completely unprompted,
and in retrospect,
pretty hilarious.

So now,
I'm awake,
surprisingly
unhungover...
and I'm on the coast,
and I get to do it all again tonight.

-p

UK Tour Diary Again

2008-10-11T11:01:00.000-05:00

It's been fun.

I played last night
in Blackburn.

a small town in the northwest of England.

I took a walk,
to a shop,
to buy some
cigarettes for Ed.

I needed a walk.

Five blocks from the venue,
I saw two heroin addicts,
one prostitute,
and one guy in a phone booth,
who wasn't using the phone.

I don't know what,
in the hell,
he was doing.

But it was a weird place.

The gig went well,
really well.

I played with the
Whiskey Bastards.

A four piece
pirate punk band.

They were outside
drinking a bottle of
vodka and doing poppers
with their relatively hot
entourage of suicide girls.

Lot's of poppers.

Poppers,
if you don't know,
are amyl nitrate,
kind of like sniffing glue.

It's a small bottle
of liquid that smells
like paint thinner.

You open it,
hold it to your nose,
and inhale the toxic fumes.

It makes you giggle
your head off,
like a bong hit
of nitrous.

In the States,
they are used mostly
by gay men.

Apparently it eases
the moment of anal
penetration,
and makes orgasms
feel like you're getting
a blowjob on a roller coaster.

Over here,
they're used
by pirate punk bands
and their ladies,
out on the dance floor,
during my set.

Blackburn was hilarious.

I think I mentioned something
about the Giant's Causeway.

It's in Ireland,
and it's a big,
completely unexplainable,
collection of stacked up
hexagonal rocks.

There's no way to
get it across without
seeing it.

you should google
Giant's Causeway,
when you have a second.

Ireland is solid,
but I was glad to get back
to England.

I played a gig in Preston,
kind of my home town over here.

It was awesome,
you should have seen
the girl on the tambourine,
she played in Porn Star,
and no one in the audience
was watching me a bit.

My battery is dying,
and I'm coming down
off the joint I smoked
this morning before
I went to watch the BMX races.

Tonight is another gig,
this makes eight so far
since last Sunday,
with twenty six more to go.

Then it's back home,
two days off,
and off to Buffalo,
and down the East Coast
to Florida.

Ah.......

-p

UK Tour Journal Part I

2008-10-07T11:59:00.001-05:00

Dear Diary,

I'm in Ireland.

Southern, Ireland.

I am at a hostel in Galway,
waiting to see if the gig that
got cancelled will get moved to
a different bar.

I'm clean shaven, showered,
full, sober... and I'm wearing
clean underwear.

Those are all a first
for this tour so far.

I landed on Sunday,
but first my plane got held
up in Chicago, with a stopover
in New York City.

Upon landing,
I had to sprint,
literally sprint,
from one terminal,
about a mile to the next,
to make my plane,
the last of the night,
as they were closing the gate.

phew.

I landed in Manchester, England, on time,
only to find that my work permit had not
gone through, the permit office was closed,
and UK immigration didn't think they could
let me into the country....
until Wednesday.

It was Sunday morning,
and I had a gig that night.

Eventually, they decided
to let me in on a temporary Visa,
but not until they held my passport,
held me waiting for two hours,
took my picture,
and finger printed me.

"we just have to run your prints
through Interpol"

wow.
I felt like Jason Bourne.

"it will only take ten minutes
to run the prints,
you can wait on that bench in the hallway"

Almost exactly ten minutes later,
two heavily armed policemen
rounded the corner and started walking
purposefully towards my bench.

Oh...
shit.

My mind quickly
riffled through any and
all experiences that may
have landed my fingerprints
on some database somewhere.

The only thing I could think of,
was three years ago,
I was in Amsterdam with Pauly and Donehoo,
and I was so high on mushrooms that I
flipped out, tried to walk to the hotel,
got lost, found myself, talked to god,
got back to the hotel, and folded my underwear
for two hours while I talked to myself in
a British accent.

What if I did something stupid along the way?
There is a good chunk of a time I don't remember at all.

I was getting ready to explain myself,
and call Ed to tell him I was going to jail,
when the policemen very purposefully...
walked right past me.

Phew.

So they let me in,
but with no passport,
and I had to be back in Manchester
airport by Wednesday, with my permit,
or they would deport me.

Also,
with no passport,
I could not rent a car.

The gig that night got cancelled.

phew.

I took a train to Preston,
met Ed,
and we picked up where
we left off last tour.

In a pub.

I sat and drank with
strange locals, some guy
shared his joint, I played
my harmonica for some drunks,
and I was happy at my home
away from home.

Still..
there was tomorrow's gig,
Monday night,
three hours across England,
with no way to rent a car.

We called our faithful driver,
a four foot gentleman named Adam.

He is my personal hero.

Adam drives as fast as anyone
I've ever seen,
and we were off.

105 mph down the motorway,
to our first gig, in Sunderland.

Sunderland used to be one of
my favorite gigs in England.

It's still cool,
and I got to see Westy,
who took all my new promo pictures,
but it hasn't been the same
without Big Irish Hobo,
aka,
Scotty.

Scotty moved to Limavady,
in Northern Ireland.

That was our home for gig number 4.

I'll tell you more stories later,
about the private VIP booth at the movie theater,
the trip to the cliff in Ireland,
the Giant's Causeway,
the wrestling fans,
the tiniest rental car in the world,
and the dirtiest hotel, I have ever fucking seen.

This marks day seven,
with thirty five more days,
and 27 more gigs,
to go.

-p

Ode to Sarah Palin, the song

2008-09-25T14:19:00.001-05:00

To all of you lovers and
haters out there, I recorded
my Sarah Palin song,
and I made a little youtube
video, and you can watch it
and hear it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2v4bdAd841I

Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm packing my entire
life into a Subaru and leaving
the country for a while and then
coming back and traveling with
no home and not enough set up
tour dates and then I might live
in California for a while, and I found
a nice temporary home for my cat
with my wonderful booking agent
Mr. Bryan Adamick, and I'm sick
as a dog, and tired, but excited because
I have a pretty awesome new drummer
and a generally positive outlook on life,
and I'm off to chase weird dreams that
are more like waking fantasies that
aren't that hard to realize.

Like.... dreaming of a slurpy,
and then just walking to 7-11
to buy one. It doesn't seem that hard,
but then, I'm not really aiming that high,
but then, maybe I am and just walking
too slowly towards it,
but then, maybe it's my own
happiness and satisfaction with
the way things are already that
keeps me from being some sort
of mad, driven, depressed artist
that channels his sadness into
unbridled creativity.

I don't have that,
I've been feeling pretty good lately.

I think I'm kind of disappearing into
the night, without really telling people,
I've talked about it for years, it's time
for me to just go.

I'm gonna miss that cat,
I'll get you a picture soon.

He's taken to sitting in
my bathroom sink,
it's adorable.

God bless the USA,
God save the Queen,
God... I could go for a slurpy.

Wish me luck...
I'm leaving town
for a while.

much love,

-p

I cut off his balls today

2008-09-17T19:48:00.001-05:00

I got my cat neutered this morning.

He's sitting in my lap now,
purring and cuddling as if
nothing is wrong.

It's hard to imagine,
cuddling up to the guy
who paid for your castration.

But he is a sweetheart.

I had a big week,
shows across the midwest,
I had a lot of fun,
and a lot of driving,
and I've got some new jokes,
and a new song,
which I won't talk about,
because people keep
getting all personal on me.

I also signed a one year
contract with a college booking agent.

His name is Devon,
he's very cool,
and he books at
campuses across the country.

So...
I might be coming to a theater near you.

I'll be adding his contact info
to my contact page,
if you happen to be
on a campus activities board.

That should prove cool,
if it works out.

He's submitting me for these
big showcase thingies,
if I get one, I get up in front
of thousands of students for fifteen
minutes, and sell myself.

and hopefully, get a lot of gigs.

It's very exciting,
slowly, but steadily,
I've gathered a little
professional team.

A UK agent,
and US clubs agent,
and now, a college agent.

Plus all the people I owe
money too, they're a crucial
part of the team, too.

oh, and my cat,
he keeps my lap warm.

-p

Palin Song

2008-09-11T16:36:00.000-05:00

you knew I would, right?

It's halfway done,
a song about the
lovely ice queen
of ball squeezing.

I wrote it on the drive to Madison,
now I'll try to write the second half
on the way to Appleton,
and then I'll escape to play it
in England where I won't get
booed off by halfwits.

-p

Pain + L = Palin - P,A,L = Pin + head = Palin

2008-09-09T02:47:00.000-05:00

Oops,
I did it again.

I let days,
what... weeks?
go by without writing
anything to you.

It's been a busy
couple of days,
what... weeks?

I went to California.
I went to Utah,
I started practicing
with a new drummer,
I made a rap beat out
of the "Greatest American Hero" theme song,
and I started booking a tour
from Buffalo to Seattle, via Texas.

I also have been racking
my brain trying to come up
with some sort of song I can
write about Sarah Palin.

I hate her,
I actually have feelings
of rage and lustful malice.

Lustful malice?

well, yeah...
she's kind of hot,
in a...
punch her in the face
after you cum on it kind of way.

Sorry,
that was completely uncalled for.

No, it wasn't,
it was hilarious,
I went back and read it.

I have a dear friend,
a close and wonderful friend
in California, with whom
I spent a lot of my time there.

He almost drowned,
and got saved by a female
lifeguard.

then we almost got him
a pot prescription,
you can do that in California.

All you need is a state ID,
and... I qoute:
"headaches, or restlessness, or... whatever"

you just go in to the weed store,
have a 75 minute consultation
with the "doctor", tell him about...
"whatever".... and then he writes
you a prescription, for marijuana.

Then, with that prescription card,
you can smoke it anywhere,
on the street, in your house,
just not while driving.

hilarious.

even better,
as we were jogging back
to his car to get his state ID,
we crossed a street, with no traffic,
but with a Do Not Cross sign,
that big, red, hand.

We crossed anyway,
and we got pulled over.

no shit.

we got pulled over by a cop,
for crossing the street,
on our way to buy legal weed.

We could have gotten a ticket for crossing the street,
and we could have been standing there
smoking a giant bong, which they also sell
at the "doctor's office", and that would have been fine.

I love California.

So then,
I played another gig at the
Catholic University.

I loved it,
they seemed to,
they payed me a lot of money,
I was happy, and I went on my way.

The way turned out to be
a cool little improv theater,
and when I stepped outside
to smoke pot with another friend,
who has a prescription......

He asked me if I wanted to see the Google office.

I said....
uh,
yeah!

So,
high as a kite,
I went into the office
that designed the email
program that I am writing
this email on.

Kind of like eating Ice Cream
while riding a cow.

Google was awesome,
that's all I can say.

Unreal,
probably the coolest
place to work I have ever seen.

Have you ever seen
a break room in an office
with a full Rock Band setup,
an atari with 100 games,
and free gatorade?

I have.

So...
that brings me around
to the point of this story,
sort of.

Me and my dear friend,
after a long night of drinking
and smoking pot, decided
to start talking politics.

Always a good idea.

He started saying
that Sarah Palin was
a better candidate than Obama,
and then he said something about
her being better than Bill Clinton,
and I lost it.

I ran out of the apartment we were crashing at,
into the hallway,
high as hell,
mad,
and suddenly,
totally lost.

I didn't remember what apartment we were in.

They all looked exactly the same.

I stayed out in that hallway for twenty minutes,
fuming, pacing, and lost.

It made me scared,
I love this friend of mine,
he is not stupid, not at all.

But he loves this Palin bitch.

I know,
you probably don't want to hear anymore
about her,
I just had to get this off my chest:

Sarah Palin is threatening to be
the next Dick Cheney,
except this time, instead of having
an asshole for our vice president,
it would be a huge, stretched out vagina.

-p

Greatest Hits

2008-08-19T12:54:00.001-05:00

Now this makes me laugh.

I got my own blog post forwarded

to me because the person thought

I would think it was funny.

I think it's damn funny,

I wrote it in the first place.

The following is a repost

of what I consider to be my

most important and pressing

blog ever.

and hilarious.

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

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

RE: BCC: FW:

Dudes.

This is urgent.

This is important.

This is an urgent and important
lesson in how to be sure that
you are not acting like an idiot.

There are you among us,
who are behaving in a completely
inappropriate manner and I am
here today to call you out.

Communication between humans
has reached an all time high,
in regards to speed and availability,
and an all time low,

in regards to basic fucking decency.

If you must send out an email,
and you must contact several people
at once with said email,
do not put us all in your To:
address line.

That is a stupid thing to do.

Put yourself in the To: line,
and put the rest of us in the BCC: line.

BCC stands for Blind Carbon Copy,
it also stands for Basic Cfucking Cdecency.

When you put the addresses in the To:
line, they are all there for us all to see,
which is annoying, and thoughtless,
and it makes the email header 7 inches tall.

That is the smallest offense,
but it must be taken as seriously,
because it is directly related to the following crime,
punishable by death, in Iran.

Reply All.

How dare you imagine,
for even one moment,
that all 75 of us on this mass
email give two fucks if you're
going to come to the party or not?

"I'll be there!"

Replied to all,
means that 75 other people
have their emails clogged
with your three word, idiotic response.

There are two options when you reply,
"Reply" or "Reply to All"

Unless your response is,

"anyone who wants $100 send me your address"

just choose "Reply" and
send it to the one person who cares.

You are out there in droves,
you offenders of decency,
because how many of us
have come to our emails
to find seventeen responses
to one idiotic invitation?

"cool!"

"can't make it, pregnant..."

"sounds like fun, count me in!"

"what should I bring?"

then replied to all with,

"I'm bringing some girls!!!!"

then again replied to all with,

"well, then I'm bringing boys!!!!!!!"

Just stop it.

right now,
don't ever do it again.

When you send out a mass email,
use the BCC.

If you must reply to a mass email,
reply to the one person who sent it,
by choosing "Reply",
because the rest of us probably
didn't care about the first email
in the first place.

And we certainly don't care
that you're bringing a vegan chocolate cake.

-p

The Tomato Fest and the Apple Cider Vinegar

2008-08-19T03:45:00.001-05:00

St Louis
has to be
the best city
in the world.

in a way.

there's just something about it.

I got some Habanero spiked
Apple Cider Vinegar at the
Tomato Festival I played
at the Iron Barley
that was raising money
for Lift for Life that is
a free gym for inner
city kids to work out at.

There were lots of kids there,
it was five in the afternoon,
so I didn't use any swear words.

I've always wanted to do kids shows.

I'm serious.

So,
I had a small black child
named Devon up onstage
playing percussion.

He was a natural.

I had woken up that morning
on a rug,
at Aaron's awesome house
in Springfield.

I had to haul ass
to St Louis, because
I thought I was on at three.

But I did have just enough
time to stop into Toys R Us
and buy some instruments.

It's been a long time since
I went into Toys R Us for
a cool specific purpose
and a designated wad of cash.

Do you remember anything like that?

Going into Toys R Us or
Kay Bee Toys or Kiddie City?

I did it.. probably twice,
with a certain amount
of money I had saved
or gotten for eating
some Catholic Bread.

First Communion,
it was solid,
my first paid gig.

So,

I gave Devon a bongo I had bought,
and then these two girls had blocks and sticks,
and this cool three year old dude was
on the occasional tambourine.

We sang the hits.
some Queen, a little Snufulupugus,
no swearing,
although I did play
White Trash Woman
with a small black child
on percussion,
and that's kind of awesome like swearing,
but maybe even better.

He took a solo,
it was awesome.

So,
I'm thinking I might swear a little
less on a few songs on my next album.

Don't worry,
I won't wimp out on you,
but I'm going to try to
mess with the language a little.

Clean it up,
make it a little more subtle,
tasteful, family friendly.

And that way,
I can meet more family friendly ladies,
and I can put my shitcock
in their asspussies.

-p0-

PS: my cat just wrote that "0-" after my little "-p"
he jumped on my keyboard. he's not even
supposed to be up here... bad kitty.

The Irish

2008-08-13T14:21:00.001-05:00

From my management in the UK:

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

Hey heres a reply I got from one Irish venue...

"For fear of being kicked out of my local church (which i dont attend) disowned by my family,

and closed down by the local witch hunters and the 'not down with this kinda stuff' people.

Clits and balls wont roll in our venue, so I will have to pass on this gig."

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

All I can see in my head

is a bunch of clits and balls

rolling around in an Irish Pub.

Can you see it, too?

-p

contest

2008-08-11T00:57:00.000-05:00

so,

at least two dudes
have said they want
a contest for the Nice Peter
Marijuana Music Award.

that's enough for me.

I'll think of something,

unless you can think of
an awesome contest,
just post it here
as a comment,

I have two to give away,
maybe I'll give one
to whoever can think
of the contest for the other one.

actually...

I think I've got an idea.

this might be awful,
but it might be awesome.

what if I hold a contest
in which you have to cover
a Nice Peter song...
either just audio or a video.

it can be as shitty
as you want,
the shittier the better...

in fact,
the funniest,
could be shittiest,
but could also be the best cover,
would win.

that might be a dumb
idea, I had some Absynth.

I'm not sure exactly what
Absynth does..
but it's possible
that it makes you
think of dumb contests.

share your feelings....

-p

gross

2008-08-10T14:49:00.000-05:00

I was at a garage sale near Taito's house.

who's Taito...?

oh, he's awesome,
don't worry, you'll meet him someday.

So,
I woke up on Taito's couch
with a playboy magazine and
the remnants of too much beer, popcorn, and pizza.

I wandered into my car,
and drove past a garage sale.

I love garage sales..
love.

This one had a shirt I was eyeing...
but then...
on a table.

they were selling
two boxes of Preparation H ointment,
and a turkey baster.

I'm not kidding.

a used, weird,
gross looking turkey baster,
next to two packages of anus cream.

who...
the fuck...
buys anus cream
at a garage sale?

I got all three for a dollar.

-p

a contest in context

2008-08-08T16:14:00.000-05:00

so.

I have these trophies
from the Marijuana music awards I won,
and they're fucking hilariously awesome.

and,
I want to give one of them
away to someone who will
thinks it's cool.

because I have three,
and a tiny apartment,
and two of them aren't
even out on display.

and I figure there might
be someone out there,
who would love to have one,
signed to them, if that's
not too egotistical of me,
and proudly display it,
and say,

"dude... this is one of my favorite bands,
I won this shit in a silly contest online."

so...
now...
what should the contest be?

that's where I'm stuck.

or maybe it's just a dumb idea.

but maybe not?

-p

it's coming....

2008-08-08T02:38:00.000-05:00

Hello Peter,

Thank you for contacting us. Please send me the following release
details
and I will then issue you a license for the remaining 65% published
by us.

Song Title(s): Get Low
Writer(s): Jonathan Smith (Lil Jon)
Payment Percentage: 65%
Record Title:
Record No.:
Configuration(s):
Release Date:
Artist:
Timing:

the Anti-Christ

2008-08-06T15:08:00.000-05:00

Have you seen
the videos out
there that say,
strongly....
that Barrack Obama
is the second coming of
the devil..........

oooooooooo.........

Now,
crazies are crazies,
and religious crazies are...
well.... really fucking crazy.

here's a video that suggests
Barack Obama grows horns:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mgcl1GwpZsU

notice all the links on the side,
there must be a hundred different
videos out there all trying to "prove"
that Barack Obama seems so good
and so popular because he is marked
by the beast and will lead us all into hellfire.

or something like that.

It's not even hilarious,
although it should be,
because these people
actually seem to believe,
and strongly, and they are not alone,
and it makes me sad.

And it makes me think we should
invent some kind of theme park for them,
where the devil comes, and jesus comes,
and then they all die.

I think they'd be happy,
and then we wouldn't have to
listen to them be crazy anymore.

I'm not suggesting murder,
I'm suggesting a big theme-park-fire-pit,
and some awesome devil and Jesus costumes,
and then... I don't know... maybe Jesus
offers them some special kool-aid to join
him in his magical kingdom.

They get to live out their
weird rapture fantasies,
everybody wins.

Back to the subject at hand,
and away from suggesting mass murder....

The Barack Obama / Anti-Christ videos
made by silly rednecks and self hating
homosexuals who bury their fury
under a cloak of loving Jesus...
are not a shock.

However!

A video put out by the John McCain campaign,
posted on his Youtube and his official website,
that plays off this lunacy and hysteria,
this simple-minded fear,
this backwoods, dark ages,
Inquisition type shiznit...

That's fucking ridiculous.

please watch the video below,
and let me know what you think?

Am I being silly,
or is this some of the lowest,
craziest, political pandering
religious nutball shit
you've ever seen?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mopkn0lPzM8

-p

still...

2008-08-03T21:34:00.000-05:00

I still get these,

and they still crack me up,

because they are,

without fail,

always poorly written and hilarious.

This one is brief,

and it's from "Lil 'Cyp"

a 14 year old in Texas.

"50 cent will kick your ass and your music suck and eat a dick bitch"

nice.

-p

Kitty

2008-07-30T11:32:00.001-05:00

Have I told you about my cat?

I think I told you that I got one,
he's very... um.... strange.

First of all,
he likes to come into
the shower with me.

My bathroom door doesn't lock,
and he knows how to get in,
and every once in a while,
he will come jump up on the shower
ledge, and meow.

He wants to be picked up,
and held under the water.

I think that's pretty unusual for a cat,
but it keeps him from smelling like poop.

I started when my roommate
decided he needed a bath,
so she held him under the shower
with her, and apparently he's hooked.

He also likes to kiss,
he'll actually put his little
kitty lips up to yours
and give you a little kiss.

It's adorable.

Now, I know what you might
be thinking,
showering and making out
with a cat, that's just weird.

But it's so cute,
you'd do it, too.

Right now he's
locked in the closet,
because otherwise
he'd be jumping on
my keyboard while I try
to type.

Let's see....

What else?

Well,
in other news,
I think i'm getting meaner.

In shows lately,
I've really been
making fun of
people pretty hard.

the audience seems to love it,
and I'm cracking myself right up,
but every once in a while I feel a little bad.

Last week at Durty Nellies,
I.... well....here's some highlights:

(to the girl in the way too short black dress)
"you look like you just came from a slutty funeral"

(to the guy in the pale, pastel, green shirt)
"I'm sorry, I can't take requests from anyone
dressed like a marshmallow from Lucky Charms"

(to the guy in the way too tight, way too
stone washed jeans)
"hey... dude on the cell phone,
my Russian exchange student
from high school wants his pants back"

(to the man at the Skydiving concert in the fanny pack)
"I know that dude smokes weed, how else can you
possibly explain a fanny pack? Unless, he just feels
safer with a pouch, maybe he keeps a tiny parachute
in there just in case he trips and falls"

It's been mostly just making fun
of the way people are dressed,
which is hilarious to me,
because I wear the same
clothes every day, probably
to almost every show.

But, sometimes that's
all I have to go on.

All in all,
things are going well,
shows have been fun,
and life has been good,
and I'm getting....
a lot of pussy.

get it?

pussy?

it's a cat.

-p

this has to be the best one I've ever gotten

2008-07-28T19:50:00.000-05:00

I got this in an email today:

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

My name is Mrs Mora William I am a dying woman who had decided to
donate what I have to you.I am 49 years old and was diagnosed for
cancer about 2 years ago,

I have been touched by God to donate from what I have inherited from
my late husband to you for the good work of God, rather than allow my
relatives to use my husband's hard earned funds ungodly. I have asked
God to forgive me all my sins and i believe he has because He is a
merciful God.

I will be going in for an operation,and i pray that i survive the
operation.I have decided to WILL/donate the sum of $1,500,000(One
million
five hundred thousand dollars) to you for the good work of the lord, and
to help the motherless,less privileged and also for the assistance of
the widows.At the moment I cannot take any telephone calls, due to the
fact that my relatives are around me and i have been restricted by my
doctor from taking telephone calls because i deserve all the rest i
can get.Presently,I
have informed my Nurse about my decision in WILLING this funds to
you. and my nurse name is Mrs Mary Donald Kindly Contact my Nurse
through this email address ( mrsmarydonalddesk@gmail.com )if you
are interested in carrying out this task,so that he can arrange tell you
how the Funds will be release to you ($1,500,000.00) to you.
My Nurse name is Mrs Mary Donald.I know I have never met you but my
mind tells me to do this,

and i hope you act sincerely.

Love, Mrs Mora William

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

Now the only question is,
what do I say in my email
to Mrs Mary Donald?

-p

Just wanted to make sure you saw this:

2008-07-13T18:38:00.001-05:00

I got this comment on my last story,

"Wow...wouldn't it be interesting if, after all your ho-in' around, on various continents...you actually had some kids who were eligible for "retard camp." Not wishing that on you...but cosmic retribution sorta works that way. Life balances out...years spent being so callously irreverent will lead to years of sensitivity...somehow. "

wow.

-p

Special Needs

2008-07-11T14:35:00.000-05:00

This story is hard to tell properly.

A lot are,
but most
you can get
the jist across
with some fancy
typing.

This one,
you really had to be there,
to appreciate the depth,
length, and scope
of the awkwardness,
and intensity.....
of the Retard Debacle.

I was playing my weekly gig
out in the suburbs at Durty Nellies.

I was staying at Pizzas' house,
I never call him Pizzas, but
lots of other people do,
so you can, too.

Pizzas lives right down
the street, so I could get my
drink on.

I play from 10:30 to 1 am,
or something like that.

It's always tough with
gigs like that, because
I feel the need to pace myself,
play slower songs, take more breaks,

et cetera.

This particular gig
had everything going for it,
good crowd, nice people,
sound was good,
everything was great,
except for me.

I just had a fog over my head,
and I couldn't get the train rolling.

Some people said I was being
hard on myself,
(yes, I just said hard on)
but I know when I'm
in the zone and when I'm not.

I needed something.

Enter,
the day camp counselors.

A dozen girls, and a few boys,
in matching bright yellow
tshirts that said something
about ants marching.

They came in just as I was taking a break,
I asked them, offstage, what their shirts
said and what was the occasion.

They were on a pub crawl,
all working together during the day.

Perfect,
this is exactly what I need,
some drunk, crazy, fun people
who know eachother, who can
have a good time, get some laughs,
give me some confidence,
and then leave to the next bar
and I'll continue my rocking
show for the loyal audience.

I told them I would sing them
a theme song, just stick around
till after the break.

I came back inside,
they had all gone outside.

No big deal,
you don't want a theme song?
no problem.

you don't want to check out the show
for five minutes?

no problem.

but don't come back
inside in groups of two going
to the bathroom and talking loudly
while you walk past the stage,
or I will make fun of you,
because your tshirts are stupid,
and so are you.

So that's kinda how it went down,
nothing major, just some jibes
as they came in and out.

Then....
then...
oh, then...

I was in the middle
of the Mystery of Clit,
By Request!
(which always makes me feel cool)
and it was at a dramatic pause,
and these bright yellow ant morons
came in and starting talking to the
big table that was here for the show.

hello.....
um... I can see you,
and hear you bothering people...
what do you want?

"we're on a pub crawl!"

yes... I know,
you told me that,
or one of you did,
I can't tell ants apart.

"so... if we sing one our songs,
we get, like... a ton of bonus points."

oh. okay, so now you want a theme song,
but not from me, you want to sing it....
okay.... fine, whatever, how does it go?

"no, like.... we'll just sing it"

no, like, you won't.
I know you might be confused,
because I'm sure that happens
to you all the time,
but this is a show,
and I was in the middle
of a song, and you are infecting
it with your stupidity,
and we're all getting dumber
while you're in the room.

...

It was just too many words for them,
sure enough, they came up to the front,
and started doing some song and dance
routine, a few even coming onstage,
one dickhead asking for my guitar,
one girl starting to play my keyboard.

I was a pretty good sport,
I was singing a song the whole time
on my looper pedal,
"go away now.. nobody likes you"
but it was all in good fun.

The audience seemed to be laughing,
and I always enjoy a chance to make
fun of a group of idiots and get away with it.

So!

after all that shit,
them taking over the stage,
me trying my best to cut
them to pieces, nicely enough,
and get the stage back,
they all sat down and seemed
ready to join the audience.

cool.

let's get on with it.

somehow, at some point,
one of the girls said something
out loud about wiping hairy butts all day.

As you can imagine,
I was confused.

I asked her to elaborate,
and she explained that they were
counselors at a special needs
day camp, and she had to wipe
poop from hairy butts all day.

I said,
"special needs kids have hairy butts?"

she said,
yes!

so, that was the next song,
obviously.

no problem.

all smiles and laughter.

then, a song or two later,
I made a reference to the counselors
in the middle of a lyric somewhere,
and said, "and the girls who work with retarded children..."

something like that,
I used the word retarded, for sure,
but definitely not in any malicious way.

All fucking hell broke loose.

The only way to describe it,
is to imagine eight pissed off
white girls, drunk off their asses,
doing a collective impression
of one, giant, pissed off black woman.

"oh, no you didn't!"

lots of finger waving,
swearing, cursing, how dare you-ing,
and general uproar went on
in thirty seconds.

I was shocked.

fucking shocked.

so let me just get this straight,
you come in here, act like
assholes during my performance,
sit down, and tell me outloud,
for no reason, that you wipe
disabled kids hairy, poopy butts all day.

but I let the word, retarded,
slip into a lyric, and now you're pissed off?

They stormed out,
in a line of drunk, dumb ants.

I used a line,
that I've used before,
its a sure fire room killer
after something like that.

"oh.... you guys are leaving? damn."

I was shaking with some sort of rage and confusion.

How uppity and...well...
retarded is that?
to get offended
by a word just because you
were told this year that its not correct?

I can't even use correct and politically
next to eachother without wanting to puke.

The best part,
oh... the best,
is when the queen bitch ant
came back in, up to the stage,
and said.... "what's your name?"

I thought she might be apologizing,
but the drool on her lip said otherwise.

First of all,
ant,
read that poster on the wall behind you,
second of all,
I'm not telling you shit.

"It's Nice Peter, isn't it?"

sometimes.

"Well........
........ ... ugh.....
I'm friends with the owner."

wow.
you got me.
I think I said something
to the effect of,
your words cut me
like boondoggle.

which I thought was hilarious,
because "boondoggle" is what
we called that stuff that you weave
into plastic bracelets.

not very sharp,
and I'm sure they're well
stocked with it at retard camp.

-p

complimentary

2008-07-06T19:42:00.001-05:00

wow.

I got some nice
things said to me
over the internet.

in fact,
I stumbled onto
a message board
talking about my different
albums and which are better or worse.

that was crazy.

the nice things
were on my blog,
this blog,
I kinda hate the word blog.

I had the day off today,
I played all weekend at Durty Nellies.

They are basically supporting
my summer.

it's fantastic.

I play there on Wednesdays,
it's out in the suburbs,
but they want me to play so late,
that I can't drink, the last train
is at 12:35 am.

But last wednesday,
I crashed out in the suburbs,
and I did a lot of jager bombs,
and I wound up buck naked in
a hot tub at six in the morning
smoking out of a plastic bong and
listening to guns and roses.

it was textbook awesome.

I told Pauly about it,
we went back and forth
on text messages with
our recent crazy adventures
and decided we need to hang out more often.

I'll bring a video camera.

I'm going into a practice space
on Tuesday to play drums
and write and record some demos
and work out some new shit.

You gotta hear my new cover
of Get Low by lil john.

Oh...
that reminds me,
I was going to tell you
about my experience opening
for a cover band at Durty Nellies.

they were super, super, nice dudes.

the lead singer was peeing
into a jug backstage right before
he went on,
I have no idea why,
but it ruled.

They played hard, metal,
rocking kinda covers,
maybe one AC DC,
but lots of "bodies hit the floor"
kinda stuff.

I imagine they would be
very popular playing
for soldiers in Iraq.

anyhow,
their audience...
was trained monkeys.

It's hard to explain,
but they could not
pay attention to anything
for more than ten minutes
if they didn't know it already.

Maybe I'm being hard on them,
I was not at my best,
after all,
I had woken up that morning
in the suburbs buck
naked with the towel
from the hot tub still around me.

Happy America Day!

-p

Kitty

2008-07-04T15:39:00.001-05:00

I got a kitten.

Holy shit is he cute.

I'm in no position to own a cat,
I travel a lot,
I don't know where I'm going to live
in a few months.

I had no intentions of getting a cat,
he kinda chose me.

Here's the story:

me and the lady
stopped into a pet store
after lunch in Indianapolis
just to kill a little time before
I started driving again.

It was this big, slightly alternative
pet store called Uncle Bill's.

I think.

I don't mean alternative,
like the cats were wearing black
eye makeup,
I mean, they had ferrets and alligators
and you could pet them.

Very free range pet store.

I played with a rabbit,
and got scratched by a ferret,
and then I walked by the kitten section.

I love kittens,
who doesn't love kittens?

I looked at them,
and said, "awwwww..."
and that was it.

But this one little guy cried out to me.

"....awwww..."

he just sat there,
so I went to pet him,
and he curled on his back
and started purring immediately.

He didn't want to play,
or eat,
he just wanted to be loved.

None of the other kittens
really gave two shits,
they were happy playing and eating.

But this guy wanted out.

So, we took him to this little booth
they have where you can check out the animals
for a few minutes.

he fell asleep in my arms.

What was I supposed to do?

He loved me,
and I was a sucker,
so I brought him home.

I couldn't see him
stuck in that cage,
or with some bratty kid
always pulling his tail.

Now he lives with me in my tiny apartment,
and I've got someone to happily look after him
when I go on the road.

All he does,
I'm not kidding,
is sleep,
play a little with your feet,
and cuddle.

And I do mean cuddle,
like nuzzling up to your head
and sighing.

awwww.

his name is Oliver.

not because of the orphan thing,
but because we drove past
an Olive Garden while we
were trying to come up with a name.

Oh yeah,
and he likes going in the car.

And he likes cheese.

and he does this little thing where
he perches above my bed and watches when...
well... you know.

and its pretty creepy.

but he still looks cute.

and he doesn't get baths,
he comes into the shower.

no kidding.

I'll try to get some pictures,
and I think I'm going to write a whole album about him.

So, I have a new responsibility,
but... at least its not a baby.

-p

Father's Day

2008-06-16T17:01:00.000-05:00

So.

This morning I woke up
on my roof.

I woke up because
a thunder storm was starting,
I knew it was serious,
because my pants started
blowing around, and one of
my shoes hit me in the head.

I had gone up last night,
with a bottle of Delirium Tremens,
a sleeping bag,
and a lady.

But that's not the point of this story,
it was just a really cool way to start my day.

Today is Father's day,
and I called my dad
to say hello.

He asked if I had finally
gotten around to updating my blog.

How embarrassing,
even my dad noticed
I've been dropping the ball.

I said yes.

He asked if it was all
about F-ing, and smoking..

and I said.... well.... kinda,
maybe you shouldn't read this one.

But this new post,
this one right now,
this one's for him.

As I get a little older,
I've realized how much
I got from my dad.

Tricks, lessons,
ways of looking at life,
that are a big part of why
I'm able to live how I do and be happy.

I was sleeping on a roof,
and I was happy as a clam.

He somehow instilled in me
a way to look for the little bits
of gold in the dirt of everyday life.

It's hard to explain,
but it has something to do
with garage sales and the Salvation Army.

I find little treasures wherever I go,
and its not just buying used, amazing things,
although that's a huge part of it.

It's finding art in the garbage.

It's paintings, that people have made,
and then given up on, or decided to toss out,
and then left in the alley with their trash.

My apartment is full of them.

I have....let me look,
about 10 pieces of framed art,
that I have paid a total of five dollars for
over the years.

It's that same, "art in the garbage"
mentality that lets me sleep in some strange person's house,
instead of shelling out 60 bucks for a hotel,
because I never know who I'm going to meet,
or what they're going to tell me or show me.

And I can sleep anywhere, and be happy,
because I'm just grateful for the experience.

MY father used to take me
to a big flea market
every Sunday as a kid.

It's one of my favorite
memories of my childhood.

Except for the time
they were spreading manure
on the field next door,
apparently at the exact same
time I made a huge fart,
and I spent the next hour
thinking I had pooped in my pants.

It was just the fun of traveling through
this maze of interesting people and their
tables of interesting stuff.

Garbage mostly,
but not trash,
nothing that should be thrown away.

We waste so much,
but there is so much cool stuff already out there.

My dad collects collections.

Do you know what I mean?

He has stamps, and trains, and fountain
pens, and records, and paintings,
and who knows what else...

As a kid, I had magic tricks,
and Star Wars figures,
and juggling toys, and unicycles.

Now, I look around my apartment,
I've got the records,
and the paintings,
and I'm sure someday I'll
pick up a fountain pen.

There is art in the garbage,
just like there is something
wonderful in every little weird town,
and every little dive bar that I play.

My dad told me I'll have to settle down someday,
but I'm really happy now.

I mean really, really happy,
and I'm pretty much just
living like he taught me to.

happy father's day.

-p

Grilled Cheese

2008-06-14T17:28:00.000-05:00

Well, shit.

It's about time I started writing again.

I'm in my underwear,
and I need a cigarette.

And I don't have any,
and it's hot as balls,
and I'm stuck inside all
day working on booking a tour.

I'm trying to make my way west,
through St Louis, Kansas City,
into Colorado, to make it to
Los Angeles by Sept 7.

That's when I'm heading back to
the Catholic University.

that's right,
they're bringing me back.

hilarious,
I thought they would
never speak to me again,
after the Mystery of the Clit debacle.

I've been using that story on stage
for all my shows, it's been a hit.

You see,
I sang Mystery of the Clit
as my last song at a Catholic
school with an audience full
of college girls.

pretty... awesome.

So....
I'm back from England,
I'm sorry I didn't write you more.

I was busy, usually drunk,
and always tired or driving.

Not driving while drunk,
but with either word starting
with "D", it's hard to write a good blog.

I played something like 28 shows
in 32 days, and my manager Ed doesn't
drive, so I did it all.

When I did get free time,
then only thing I wanted to
do on my computer was play poker,
or look for fat lady porn,
it's kinda my new thing,
don't ask.

I'm hoping it's temporary.

So, I let all those stories slip
away, like all the girls with
boyfriends who kept coming
up to me after shows, very directly,
I mean.. like seven of them,
until by the end of the tour,
if some lady started flirting with me,
I would immediately ask her to
point out her boyfriend.

ugh.

Now, don't get me wrong,
I have a girlfriend back here at home.

It's great, I get laid all the time,
I don't have any STDs,
or any chance of getting them,
and she's patient, and forgives
me when I get too wasted to do anything
but mumble sweet nothings.

But she's also realistic,
and I'm lonely on the road.

We've set up some basic groundrules,
no clothes coming off, no repeat business.

I think that's it,
but what it all comes down to is,
I can make out with all the girls,
or boys, or big ladies, or dogs,
or real dolls, I want.

I think we should all have such freedom,
it's just making out, for god's sake.

It's fun, harmless, and the most
you can catch is a cold,
or if you're me,
and the English lady's
boyfriend is right around the corner
at the pub watching you,
you might catch a fist in the jaw.

Whatever,
it's harmless,
and it helps me stay happy.

A little making out here and there never did
a bad thing to anyone.

Staying celibate on the road in England
was very difficult indeed.

holy shit,
English. Girls. Are. Horny.

And straightforward.

"Hi... my name is Melanie,
would you like to come to my bed with me?"

whoa.

um,
yes,
but no,
I can't...
you wanna make out?

There was this one very pretty hippie chick
who was kissing my neck and face when she
came up to hug me after my second show
of the night in Plymouth, England.

Now.... I don't know what the rules are in Plymouth,
but where I'm from, if you kiss someone's neck and face,
that implies a little bit of interest, and availability,
I don't care how much of a hippie you are.

So, I followed her like a puppy,
she got me high... another good sign,
and then she took me upstairs to the "club" section
to dance.

Word!

I'm in, I'm gonna dance, and make out a little,
and maybe stretch my trousers,
but no harm will come.

we were dancing,
a little naughty,
in a geeky white people
kind of way,
things are going great,
our foreheads are touching...
and then...
"oh shit, I think my boyfriend can see us"

wow.

You probably should have mentioned
him somewhere between the kisses and the
joint.

It probably serves me right,
I don't have the best track record
with faithfulness, I try, and I have tried,
but it's hard after shows, when I'm away,
and pretty fucking lonely,
and really fucking drunk.

Girls are pretty, and they smell nice,
and I just want to have some innocent fun,
like in middle school, a full year
before I started getting hand jobs in the basement
of my highschool.

ah.... those were the days.

I'll try to write you more,
it's a nice break from the monotony
of emailing 17 clubs who won't write back to you.

"Hey Pete! can you come play in my town?"

yes,
I would love to,
I'll be rambling all over,
from here to the West Coast.

If you've got a town,
and it's got a place to play music,
email me, I'll do what I can.

it's info@nicepeter.com

I'll be here.

-p

UK Tour 2008 Part 1

2008-05-03T12:00:00.001-05:00

Ah...

Oldham.

It's a small town,
one that people have warned me about.

"watch out for OIdham...
nothing but thieves...."

Nonsense.

they are delightful people.

It was a fun show,
a drunken, crazy,
happy little show.

At the end,
I played an encore,
and a huge group of people
came up onstage behind me.

It was strange,
made stranger still
by the fact that someone
kept poking me in the ass.

I got pinched once,
but that was by a seemingly
gay little Indian boy.

He was nice, and harmless enough.

I think the poking,
the very aggressive
poking, was from the girl
behind me.

Nice enough.

They stayed and stammered
drunkenly onstage while
I led them through a final song.

And then...
I went to grab my CDs,
to sell them to the crowd,
and they were gone.

Someone,
or some people,
stole my CDs
from the stage.

Ah...
Oldham.

I came back onto
the microphone,
and said something to
the effect of....

"um.... somebody stole my CDs,
if it was you... just put them back,
no hard feelings"

One guy came up and gave me money,
he thought they were free.... very nice of him.

A few more people just gave me some
money because they felt bad.

They're not all bad in Oldham,
and I'll be back.

Just let me grab my fancy new
email list clipboard on the way out...
yup... this one with the shiny
new pen, I bought one of those
pens on the metal chains...
looks very pro...
okay.. here we go...

wait a minute.

what the fuck?

They stole my fucking pen,
off of the chain.

you must be joking.

-p

Thursday

2008-04-25T03:06:00.001-05:00

Hi.

I'm stoned..

I missed you.

I'm in St Paul,
I think,
maybe Minneapolis.

There's a cat here,
well... two,
but the other one
has been hiding all night.

I watched a show called Weeds,
have you seen it?

It made me want to keep smoking,
and it's awesome,
and the lady who stars in
it is hot, and 44.

I've been playing a lot lately,
and flying, and driving,
and sleeping on couches,
and meeting new cats,
and my brother's shitty friends.

I went out to LA,
that's where he lives,
alone, in an apartment
that's much different than mine.

He has a fifteen hundred dollar TV.

I have a fifteen dollar TV.

I'm not kidding.

Lately,
on it,
I've been watching
some vintage porn
and a show from Canada
called Trailer Park Boys.

I'm hoping to add Weeds
to that rotation.

I made new tshirts,
and I'm almost sold
out of my new album.

I'm playing new songs,
and I played in LA,
and I have money,
and four bags of chips,
and I've been getting laid,
and I also went to Seattle.

They have a ton of crack heads in Seattle.

A horde of crack heads crossed
the street in front of me.

Maybe twelve.

I'm not kidding.

In Seattle,
me and a guy named Chris
ate Chinese food at
the most authentic
Asian restaurant
I have ever seen.

And if you know me,
you know I've seen a lot of
funky, little, Asian restaurants.

This one had
pig intestines,
and sheep oviducts,
which I think means
fallopian tubes,
on the menu.

I am seriously not kidding.

I played in Madison,
and made up a song
called,
"Every Dude's Already
Fucked his Momma's Pussy"

It had four part harmonies.

It wasn't my fault.

I love my loop pedal.

My mom gave it to me.

That's how the song started,
I was telling the audience
how much I loved it,
and how much it would,
and probably does,
bother her to think
that I'm using it to
sing harmonies
over the most
awful lyrics
imaginable.

Then I said...

" ah... my mom....(smile)..."

then in an attempt to shift gears,
I said one of my standby words,
that is,
"fuck"

and it kind of took
off from there.

It really wasn't my fault,
the audience made me do it.

And it wasn't about my mom,
at least, not specifically.

Madison, Wisconsin
is full of sick fuckers.

But don't worry,
if you don't live in Madison,
I got the whole thing on tape.

I'm starting a new album,
it's called,
"My Friend's Nickname is Bitchface"
(Nice Peter's Greatest Improv Hits)

I'm going to record every show
from now until then end of England,
and edit out and mix down
the best improv bits from each show,
until I have some sort of album.

I named it that,
cause that was
the second song that happened.

In Neenah, Wisconsin.

Some dude's friend's nickname
was bitchface, and he wanted
me to sing about it.

The funniest part was
when another dude
came up all excited,
and said...

"dude!! ..... I'm bitchface!"

...

I'm not kidding.

-p

I Want to Take You to a Gay Bar

2008-03-31T02:47:00.001-05:00

I went to see the Electric Six concert at the Double Door.

They're an awesome band,
awesome.

You might remember their big hit,
it was called "Gay Bar"

After the show,
my friends from
my old job,
called to invite
me to meet them out for drinks,
because it was one waiter's last night.

They were at Side Tracks,
a gay bar.

I went,
and let me tell you,
I think I might drink
at gay bars from now on.

The bartender had both his nipples pierced,
I could tell,
because he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Holy shit.

I bought two drinks,
he charged me for one and winked.

Cool.

Nice nipples, dude.

I hung out with girls,
and I think they thought
I was very sensitive for
meeting my friend out at a gay bar.

How charming,
how open minded,
how free from competition.

After Side Tracks,
it was time to go dancing,
at another gay bar.

Hydrate,
formerly known as the Man Hole.

Hole y shit.

This place was ridiculous,
I've never seen anything like it.

A late night,
after hours,
gay dance club,
with smoke machines,
and six disco balls all linked together.

Yeah..
I took my shirt off,
and danced in the cage,
you betcha.

I didn't pay for one drink,
but I did have my balls
gently grabbed twice.

Nothing rude,
just a "how do you do?"

Fine, thank you,
now if you don't mind,
I've got to get back to my cage and fucking dance.

I stayed close to my friends all night,
but that was okay,
no guy did anything totally inappropriate,
if you don't count the gently ball grabbing.

All in all,
it was a fun night,
weird,
but fun.

and today,
my butt hurts.

from dancing, dude,
don't get any ideas.

-p