we got to eric from sickoids’ place as he’s an old pal of our bassist, joel, from north carolina. we had to fight Rachael pretty hard to prevent her from going back to her house and giving us all the scabies that her roommate contracted in turkey, or however the fuck they got there. difficult conversation. the next day, we spent our time lining up to shower and at some coffee shop that was described as a lesbian hangout. i dont think it was. they used organic eggs and had breakfast burritos for fucking $3.70! goddamn incredible. it was good, too. i met some dude playing chess and found out he was an EMT, so he told me to run to the drugstore and he’d fix up my arm. i think instead i just ended up using some tape from the shop and washing it out in the bathroom. or maybe i left it open? i cant remember.
there was a chick working at the coffeeshop wearing a SLAUGHTER shirt, for the thrash metal band, not the shitty 80s band. then another chick walks in and has a Nuclear Assault patch on her cut-off shorts. what the fuck
i think me, dan, amelia, and pat went to the drugstore where dan bought a male urinal and i bought some gauze and medical tape. we stopped by a farmer’s market and ate some apples while realizing that every fucker in west philadelphia is cool. seriously, any person who walks by you says “good morning” and gives you a huge smile. really unexpected and nice. we went back to the house and watched joel, eric, and amelia all geek out about japanese hardcore records and then made plans to go grab matt from Leather and to go to brad and john from Leather’s house, as our show got cancelled due to the weather and possible flooding basements.
joel and logan almost fought because rachael left with someone and logan wondered if she went back to her house. joel kept assuring him and logan kept pressing him. i dunno, someone smacked someone in the back of the head. wish it came to punches, would’ve been a fun battle.
we grabbed matt and i helped him carry a whole bunch of barbequed chicken, vegan chili, and about sixty beers and headed over to their huge house. it’s a huge place even by minneapolis standards, but gigantic by philadelphia standards. two staircases, a fucking dining room with a fifteen foot dining room table accented by a disco ball. covered back yard area for people to smoke.
we played a bunch of sega and ate a bunch of food. there were some horrible things that happened, mainly aaron and pat went out to grab some girl from the suburbs to bring back. after being gone for an hour, we called and only got, “dude, i’m talking to the cops right now, bye,” and then aaron hung up. we called pat and pat basically said the same thing – “uh, aaron’s up against the car and he’s getting handcuffed. i dunno, i gotta go.”
fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck.
so then pat and this little lady come through the door. the girl said she drove the van and trailer and pat is all wide eyed and horrified looking. i’m punching myself in the head over and over and over again and suddenly aaron comes through a side door or something, smiling. that fucking asshole – especially because back in columbus, he tricked me and max at the repair shop saying “tour is over unless we cough up $2000. the van is fucked.”
and he fucking tricked me before we left when i called him and he told me that his van wouldn’t start. goddamn, what a bastard.
so in retribution i called joel and told him the same bullshit story. lied to him pretty hard, tried to justify it by talking about the time joel convinced me that Toad the Wet Sprocket was gonna tour with Burzum. joel seemed to take it rather well, but then didnt take it well at all when he found out i was lying. my joke fucked up everyone’s plans and freaked everyone out and caused some damage. logan reassured me that it wasn’t funny. i felt bad, but at least i could create some sort of “fuck drew” camaraderie to unite people.
we got really messed up with people smashing florescent lights over brad’s back and throwing beer bottles in the air and hitting them with a samurai sword while a tropical storm whipped through the city. dan got some glass caught in his leg from one of the bottles.
when it got late enough, we decided to go back to eric’s and max and logan used the male urinal. logan pissed 16 ounces and max pissed 10 ounces. the next morning, examining the van and the male urinal, we noticed there were only 20 ounces in the male urinal.
the male urinal pissed the van and one of rachael’s shirts. we walked around west philadelphia again and ended up at another coffeeshop after walking into one place and just kinda looking around before deciding there wasn’t enough room for us. we met a developmentally disabled boy named Daniel who was wearing a nice red hat and perfectly matching red golf pants. we went back to eric’s where i mopped his kitchen floor and pet his amazing cat, then listened to everyone gossip about who’s an asshole and who isn’t sending out records and who is taking money from who.
eric and mo are fucking great hosts. we left and it looks like all that happened from there is that logan unwrapped a fortune cookie he found and saw that it had a pube cooked into it. then rachael told the story of Lazy Jane, who was a heroin addict at a squat of heroin addicts out in philadelphia who overdosed and died on a couch. instead of calling the cops or doing anything, they just let her sit there and rot until she became part of the couch. apparently there are pictures of people with lazy jane, who no one ever really found out the name of or where her body really belonged.
lazy drew