1.29.2011

Notes from the road... unedited... circa 2008..

I used these notes to create a story for a journalism class. The story itself turned out rather well, but I find myself far more amused by the raw notes used to create it. Most of the context is long forgotten. Names have been changed to protect the innocent until proven guilty

March 2008
There is a law against a celebrity impersonating a normal person. Yellow submarine?
Marla says, "That shit was chronic, yo"
Schmitz: "Never drinking Budweiser again. Actually I prob. will if it's free."
Schmitz: "Fuck you, you crazy thing!" <--Yoda tried to kill us.
Head says Mitch went to Africa to hunt for blood diamonds and was attacked by a lion. Which he then slew heroically.

3-7-08
Schmitz's dream: "We were all pulled over and arrested cause Dong was actually Dustin Diamond in disguise."
Sargent Peppers, smoking with a three legged dog named Mitch. Show last night was Free Nathan Blondes. Tom Tom tells us where to go. 'The Voice of God', or Yoda when we want to move backwards.
It's raining. The traffic is...

3-8-08
The Soapbox in Wilmington NC. This town looks straight out of the 1950s, Cape Fear Laundromat downstairs and "green room" actually gray. Tubs of free PBR, can't complain. Kentucky Gentlemen shots. Punched Kenny in the face so hard his teeth: "CRACK!!" Projectile vomiting. Ultimate Frisbee, rat shit. Dude from Giant Tigers tells me about a place called "Rock and Roll Adventure Land", hidden deep in between the mountains with a rope bridge, elves and fireworks... ?
More than anything in my life I want to be there. I imagine a spa resort, high class, waited on, catered to by elves who have presents and toys. "Yes, I'll have the Pinot Noir." "Thank you, excellent choice, sir."

"If it's not an ice storm, it's a shitstorm." - Schmitz

Schmitz: "Don't tell Hollywood about that gallon of whiskey. Cause if I feel like it I'll just pull it out later."
Marla: "That's what she said." $84.95.

3-9-08
I am a person of low moral fortitude.
Party at ___'s house. I was horrified. "This is NOT RIGHT." "Shit happens." He said, and promptly stuck his finger up my ass. That was not sexy. How are you going to explain this?!

"That's your boyfriend." (Points to a pidgeon)

3-10-08
Chattanooga notes. This! Place is Redneck wonderland. I am impressed. Hollywood played best set last night, same with Giant Tigers. Lotsa beer $2.00 Guiness, fire in a trash can. Schmitz with the joint.... we played two songs sober. RTX sucked!! Terrible took all the cash Kev wanted to slash tires

It has come to our attention that robots have taken over the town of Chattanooga Tennessee. We believe that our PisaPizza waiter is a defective. There was a glitch in his programming that caused him to twitch:
DIGITAL
AUDIO
VISUAL
INTERFACE
DEVICE

About Sonny's place...
An old heavyset gentlemen hard of hearing slams an underage drunk kid by his neck onto the bar and chases him in the parking lot. Sonny is his dead son. Ashley is his other, who is still alive in an erratic sort of way and owns the bar.
They encourage patrons to buy whiskey from the liquor store next door and drink inside.
"Once I seen him (Ashley) riding down the street on his motorcycle in that damn penguin suit, holdin his flippers up!"

Accents are thick. Teeth are scarce. Many residents have drug twitches, nervous ticks or strange gaits. The Meth Capital of the country is alive and grinding their teeth. I made our getaway at one A.M gripping the steering wheels with white knuckles

6 hours later with the fuzzy scum of 2 redbulls and 3 large coffees in my mouth I pull the car over at the Florida border. At this point the stench of our vehicle was unbearable. At high noon Orlando welcomed us unto her supple, grandmotherly bosom. A quick act of pathetic brokeness and we walked into (what we found out later was the bum hotel) room, eager to wash the scum of a thousand farts from our flesh.

(NICK FURY, AGENT SHIELD.) The neatly lettered welcome card usually propped on the bed with maybe a towel and bar of soap was not present. In it's place was a single joint, tightly rolled and most definitively not ours. Dong graciously accepted this mysterious gift.

Dong: Drummer, 21 or 22, youngest boy of 6 children born and raised in Baltimore City.

Already completely hammered, I play the majority of our set on the ground or staggering towards it. Projectile vomiting. Face hemorrhaging. Black out, tears, and nothing good.

I wish there was more but whiskey, ass and whatever else was around won out over pen and paper. This is likely a good thing.