what do you know about pink starburst from jamba juice?! that shit is my JAM! this is my first little bloggy woggy thing. I'm sure nobody reads these but us, but if you just so happen to stumble onto my random rants, feel free to laugh, cry, hurl, or what have you.
so we're going on tour again, in April. it's only 10 dates right now, hoping to extend it to 12 (so we don't have to drive straight home from New Mexico). We're going out w/ a band called Fate from the Sacto, CA area. Should be fun, once we figure out a few things. 1. who the hell is going to play bass for us? 2. are we going to find a trailer or do we have to just wing it and put all our shit in the van? 3. is there someone brave enough to tag along and help w/ merch/loading/unloading/driving duties? and 4. will our van be fixed on time?
if you didn't know, our van/trailer basically took every shit possible while on our last run w/ Last House on the left. Before we even left Whittier, Chris (our fill in bassist) noticed something had gone awry with the trailer tire. Turns out, the axle was all fucked up, so we took it to my house, unhitched it, and borrowed our buddies from the Funeral Pyre's trailer. This wasted a good 2 hours. Then as we come back to my pad to unload our gear from our trailer to the Pyre's, the wheel on our trailer completely breaks off. Turns out, the axle is fucked, and it takes us literally another hour to move our trailer into my driveway by hand.
So we finally load our shit into the new trailer, 3 hours later. Then we hit the road, onto Tucson Arizona we go! Shit is going just dandy...until we pass the AZ border. That's when good ol' Van-tagonist starts overheating...but i mean REALLY overheating, to the point where we had to pull over at least 2 to 3 times. We're already late as SHIT, so we're blasting the heater (in the middle of the desert, mind you), all the way to tucson. We're hauling major ass, as we pass through the city of Phoenix. Little do we know that they have cameras all OVER the fuckin freeway, and it takes snapshots of us about 4 different times. Why? Because we were speeding of course. I can't wait to get those tickets in the mail. Anyway....we still think we have a shot at making the show in Tucson, since we're headlining. But that all changes with a simple comment by Lond...."dude...don't we gain an hour going into arizona?" Our jaws drop, and we realize it's not daylight savings time just yet. See, the way it works is...because Arizona is SOOO fucking cool, they have to be one of the only states in the US (if not THE only state) that DOESN'T have a time change throughout the year. Why, you may ask? Fuck if I know. All I know is, this was pretty much the end of our high hopes that we would make it to the show on time. Fuck us, right?
Well...that's only the beginning...
Next day, on our drive to New Mexico...with about 20 bucks left in our name (Since we didn't make the tucson show, we didn't get our guarantee, which was probably the biggest on the whole tour), the van is STILL overheating, and we notice a little something in the windshield that wasn't there before. Yes, you guessed it, a hair line crack. No biggie, right? Not until it spread like a fuckin whores legs...well, not that wide. But anyway, it now stretches from the very bottom to the very top of the windshield. Yay!!!
We get into Albuquerque...Our boy Hesh feeds us like the KINGS we are, and we find a Midas. The van can't be checked til the next morning so we wake up at the ass crack of dawn and take the van to the shop when they open at 7am. Takes them four hours to change the god damn thermostat and flush the coolant out. and it ALSO costs a whopping 218 dollars. Not so much for a van repair, right? Well when you consider that the thermostat itself literally costs 20 bucks, you start to wonder if labor should really be THAT expensive. Whatever. We finally get on the road (2 hours later than expected) and the MINUTE we hit that freeway, that gauge starts hiking up higher and higher to that dreaded little H (you know, for "hot"). $218 down the drain. Turn that fuckin heater back on...
From then til the end of the tour, the heater is blasting. But that isn't the end of our adventure.
Now comes the trailer...that wasn't even ours.
We hit this highway somewhere in bumfuck Texas, high winds shaking the van back and forth. I'm driving. I hear this sudden thud or something...I look in the rear view. What could it be?? Oh, just the fender from the trailer flying off into the horizon. We stop, Mr. Roland Leonard (the saint) runs about half a mile back to retrieve this damn thing, that is now so bent up, it could definitely not be put back onto the trailer.
We get back on the road, and take a pee break shortly after. And once again, Chris notices something. OH SWEET, the trailer tire is all torn up!! The fender must've been hanging on for dear life and shredded the tire in the process. So of course, we have to change the tire.
From here on out, the trailer was fine, but the van was still a bit temperamental. After all that, a few sheisty promoters, and sleeping in wal-mart parking lots for the majority of the tour (literally), we somehow managed to have a great time, play some fun shows, and do a lot of stupid shit w/ Last House on the Left.
So now...we just have to find a way to pay for all this shit. God damn.