I love Jagermeister SO MUCH. It’s the taste of happiness. Mike and I were talking about Hell’s Kitchen, the Marquee days, how he’s tried to recreate those days and never succeeded and now all I can picture is Robin standing off in the corner holding a gin and tonic and being the hottest person in the room without even trying.
I never planned on getting drunk tonight but I didn’t figure on the awesome force that is Mike Boudreau. He showed me all around Ottawa and we proceeded to get looped on a Monday night at a place called Aloha.
I’m not writing on my blog now, am I? It’s 3am and I need to pass out. So anyway, our van got broken into in Montreal. They smashed a window right out and stole some shit. But none of the A/V gear was touched, fuckers, because my gear generates a giant force field that repels assholes, god damn right. Enjoy your backpacks full of dirty laundry and your new iPod Shuffles. Assholes.
We taped cardboard boxes and trash bags over the window and drove the fuck to Ottawa.
Last night I played a crusty punk show in a basement that reminded me so much of Bloomfield House. Low ceiling with xmas lights all entwined. That guy who just got busted by the RCMP for leaking state secrets was the drummer for one of the bands. Circle fuckin’ A.
I thought, I wonder if I could fit through that little basement window. So I squeezed through and hauled the mic cord up and out and through the window and sang on the sidewalk. And the Ottawa police station was directly across the street, and this song is dedicated to the fucking pigs.
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