Less mad about not much stuff.
Thank you for allowing me to vent on Wednesday. My tolerance for pain wains from time to time and occasionally it all becomes too much. To remedy this, I either type a bunch, cover myself in paint, or eat me a mountain of pills;
Tip of the hat to Dave Wyndorf for that line.
It certainly looks like he’s recently eaten a mountain of something;
Tour manager- “Has anyone seen the meat and cheese plate, the boxes of donuts, the bag of bugles, the sandwich bar and the case of juice boxes?
Dave, I’m looking at you?”
Whatever. I still adore the man and his band, and my favorite song, ‘Twin Earth’ never sounded fatter. I mean, better;
I have loved this band for ages, and I always said if I ever came across some extra money, ala Jeff Spicoli, I would totally have them play my birthday party.
Speaking of which, but not really, but kinda, it is my pride to announce this year’s Interbike scumbagfest, otherwise known as the AHTBM/Ritte/Soulcraft Bicycles throw down.
This is the third year the party has taken place and for those who care, let us now take a walk down memory lane.
The first year, it was just Captain Sporty Pants and myself flying the flag for our own accomplishments;
I’m reasonably sure that this was my first forray into the wilds of Photoshop, and clearly I had no idea what I was doing.
I would also like to note that we spared no expense for our fellow revelers;
The second year we brought Lanolin into the fold as it was Ritte’s first outing at the big show, which we felt was fairly important, though right now I couldn’t hazard a guess as to why. I’m pretty sure that I wanted to make sure the right people showed him the ropes and as last year was my twelfth Interbike and Captain Sporty Pants’ like, 23rd, it seemed as though we were the right people for the job;
Besides, without us he would have just ended up at the circle jerk that is the Oakley party or riding around on his fixed gear taking photos of himself.
That just wouldn’t do.
Whatever the case, attendees put on their Sunday’s best and we went big until the bar actually ran out of alcohol.
In Las vegas.
Anyway, it’s obvious that between the time of the first flyer and the second one, I had photoshopped several hundred penises on several hundred faces, so my skills had gotten a bit polished.
I did an about face this year, and presented a dry run to my compatriots that was a little rough around the edges, when Lanolin took my initial image and made it dazzling;
I have put some of the finishing touches on the flyer which I will unveil as soon as I get the green light on the final details. As I have expressed elsewhere on the interwebs, this year’s party will be more of the same, which is good times, camaraderie, and hijinx, or…. It’s gonna be so crap-your-pants epic that the general population might never be the same.
If it ends up being the former, and you were hoping for the latter, you can always rely on that ever present mountain of pills to eat.
And with that, it’s Friday. You know what to do.
With his arms fully ensconced w/booze Thrasher seems to be implying, “Citizens of Sodom, I’m gonna show you the light…”
Ah yes… Interbike. Where it truly is hip to be square.
I recall one time long ago (it was in Anaheim, CA back then) when three friends and I smuggled as many beers as possible into the putt-putt golf course across the street from the convention center and played and drank until we got kicked out. Turns out the proprietor didn’t appreciate us always skipping the last hole which claimed your ball.
As shite a venue as Anaheim was, I have many good memories, most notably, Tony ‘borrowing’ a car from the valet parking area at one of the hotels.
I remember the Anahole shows, the free disney thing that one year where they couldn’t even trot mickey out so I could get a pic of me punching him, went back to the room sat in the tub thing and got drunk instead i did meet Pineapple though and that was cool
I think Dave should team up with Tad Doyle, the Conner brothers, and, well, no heavy-set drummers immediately come to mind, but I’m sure they’re out there.
Imagine the tour rider.
As Van Conner once said, “They say Seattle has a ton of bands. We’re a TON of band.”
It would be like Poison Idea, but fatter. R.I.P Pig Champion.
man, i can’t wait to black out with you guys
For the record, it’s Anaslime, not Anahole.
Damn, Poison Idea and Monster Magnet mentioned…I think I need a cookie.
Alright, so don’t tell anyone, but I grew up watching wrestling in the ’80’s. My dad was into it, and we used to watch the early days of the WWF at Boston Garden. I saw the dude with Andre up there wrestle “Thunderlips Hogan,” before he was Hulk Hogan, at the Garden. BUT I CAN’T REMEMBER HIS NAME. It’s fucking killing me. Been coming my brain. Rick Martel. Larry Zbyszko. Tony Garea. Bruno Sammartino. Fuck, I know them all, and I can’t remember that guy’s name. HELP.
Monster Magnet, strippers, pills. You should only choose 2. First two for me.
Saw them 2011 Soundwave Adelaide. Lunchtime. 40 degrees Celsius. Oh yes kids.