This is my final word on the toilet seat issue: I believe it should be left up to the individual.
2005 will be remembered as the year in which everything everyone said to me was “hot [something] action.” Usually accompanied by that knowing smirk. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if my mom had looked at me at Xmas dinner and said, “Would you care for some hot gravy action with that turkey?”
A/V played Fredericton last Friday night. I drove an hour into town through a messy snowstorm, set up my gear, played a couple of notes through the PA, and then my sequencer crashed and erased the memory of all my songs.
I checked the time. Nine-thirty. I got in my car, drove all the way back to Gaspereau Forks through a messy snowstorm, loaded up the sequencer memory from a backup copy (that I normally travel with), drove all the way back to Fredericton through some hot snowstorm action, and walked through the door of The Capital a little after midnight, just in time to perform.
Let it not be said that I am not tr00 to the cause.
My sequencer, an Alesis MMT-8, did crash once before. In August 1999 I was supposed to play an electronic set at this big outdoor rave. I was preparing for my set in the days before the event and the Alesis cacked out on me and I had to stay up for 24 hours straight reprogramming all my tracks. By the time I got to the party I wasn’t doing so hot.
I was scheduled to take the stage at 7am and I spent most of the night shivering under a blanket. Finally I went on and five minutes into my set a soldered connection let go in the MIDI jack of one of my synths. A horrible drone blasted through the PA. “RRRRRRRRRR.” All the ravers, well they might have noticed. I looked around desperately until DJ Nick Nonsense took over and start spinning some vinyl. Then I went home and collapsed with a fever of 104. I was delirious for an entire week with some hot pneumonia action.
Last Friday, as I slipped and slid all over Route 10, I was thinking “yeah this all sucks but it could have been way worse.”
I might have lost a few newish tracks that I hadn’t got around to backing up. Possibly “Sweater On A Dog” is lost which would effectively bring to a close that whole dirty chapter of my life.
And now a few words from “Bullet-Tooth Tony,” as played by Vinnie Jones in the movie Snatch.
“There are two types of balls. There are big brave balls. And there are little mincey faggot balls.”
Think about that for a minute.
On the weekend we watched Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Vinnie is in that movie as well, playing a similar type of character so of course the film became known as “Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Little Mincey Faggot Balls.”
Tony, you’re my friend so I’m gonna be straight up with you, you probably shouldn’t be throwing the word “faggot” around like that. Only God is allowed to hate fags.
…Fags and Canadians that is: www.godhatescanada.com.
Check out this quote. “On April 28, 2004, Canada hoisted a filthy fag finger in the Face of God.” Now that’s fuckin’ poetic… Anyway I can’t wait until the election so I can exercise my democratic right to take part in some hot homo-fascist-state action.
So over the weekend we tried our best to refrain from using the phrase “mincey little faggot balls” every two seconds and we mostly succeeded although at one time or another everyone in the crew was nicknamed “Mincey” or “Mincey-Balls” or “Mincey-Fresh.”
Now I want to tell you about my friend John and his drum show in Fredericton on Friday night. John has been in on a bunch of videos on Swordfight, like Full Throttle and Here Comes Trouble. He’s got some kind of drum-art performance planned and I don’t even know what the hell he’s going to do but I know it’s going to be good.
Born To Reincarnate
Friday, Jan. 13, 2006
Memorial Hall, UNB, Fredericton
Doors 8:30 – $5.
I’m hoping it will snow again on the drive into town tomorrow, a LOT. Boy could I use some hot snow-tire action.
Here’s some footage I shot of John back in November. Since then he’s shaved his head, started working out every day and playing the drums five hours a day for eight straight weeks to get ready for his mincey little show. I saw him on the weekend and he looks like a superhero.
So after all the hot drumming action we’re going to head downtown for some hot Holy Fuck action, after which I will probably call it a little mincey night and go enjoy some hot crashing-out-on-John’s-couch action.
P.S. Apologies if I’ve offended anyone with this post. I don’t even know what “mincey” means.