Clifton Ohio - Last night at the Loudhouse, home of pop punkers Loudmouth. Shit was pretty on point. This band Like Bats who sounded like the Shook Ones covering Alkaline Trio played. I forgot to get a tape, they were awesome.
We played, my head didn't work so I used Mike Loudmouth's Bogner - amazing! We played our first song to just each other, but had mohican punkers skanking toward the end.
JACK definitely got GUNS UP DIX OUT shaved into the side of his head.
Mike Loudmouth is a king among men. We bro'ed down over being rum snobs, the Big Lebowski (of which we were both wearing shirts of), being English teachers, and literature. He has all of HOWL on his bathroom. If you aren't familiar with it, check it out.
The night rages on. Lots of 30+ year old ska kids, skinheads, and general cincin-natty bo' people upping the punx. Bands played, this one band sounded like Nirvana swallowing a modest mouse record - 983345343 people were in the basement singing along.
Peter Jack and I went to go procure some libations while RJ, who had taken a real path in a real tub the night before, was getting cozy with a nice bottle of wine. We talked sports metaphors and skated, chatted with some Nasti'Natty's, saw way too many leather bondage stores on one road, and made our way back. Tried to get the semi-cute chick with sleeves at the liquor store to come to one of our shows - no dice. I tried the 300 band bald handle mustache biker at the other register. Also no dice.
So we took a shopping cart and a skateboard and hauled ass down McMillin and Wife Street, switching up every few turns. I have a video of it, it'll be online probably after tour. Shit's on point - Speed Racer meets Skate or Die.
After we got back, some really sick dub/reggae/ska band (that's right) played and it was sweatfest 2009 in the basement. I think I played my 40 oz as a trombone for a while. There was a backyard campfire, acoustic guitar jams, and two-tone cake that got everywhere in the basement where there was also a pool filled with ball pit plastic balls that we played catch with during one of the bands. We had two balls being juggled, and they high-fived in mid-air and it was more hilarious than describing it can express.
Loudmouth played and it was a frantic mess of riffs. They covered NOFX's "Bob" and Peter and I provided the horn section.
The events after that are hazy. I wound up on the roof of the neighboring church spraying shaving cream pentagrams and upside-down crosses and LEEEEEEEEROY JENKKKKKKKINS and occasionally moshing to no music by myself against the silhouette of the night sky. RJ and I had a heart to heart on the roof about love, loss, heartache and loyalty. Not sure how it happened, but it was cathartic.
We somehow climbed down, then Mike, Jackjohn and opened a fresh bottle of Sailor Jerry and drank the whole thing straight from 4AM on. I was definitely Captain (Big) Choice and spent today still drunk having everything from water to gum taste like straight booze.
Our van's battery died, so Mikemouth and I trekked to replace it, talking everything from beat poets, chasing dreams, teaching, Burn After Reading, molecular integrity impacted by human presence (as possible proof of God?) and how Vonnegut pointed out that Marx' "religion is the opiate of the masses" is less of a knee-jerk reaction to religion and more of a description of how opiates and pain-killers serve as buffers to temper the severity of how brutal existence is.
I'm sure there is more that I'm forgetting, but as the rum seeps out of the pores of my body, my word recall and my short term memory will both return.
-Nerpal
