Never Forget

This entry is a bit old, this is the first time I've had access to the internetz in about three days, enjoy.

Goodbye, Germany. You were quite kind to us. Well, some of you at least paid attention. The same cannot be said for Sweden and Denmark. Perhaps Finland would have been different but I guess we’ll never know. I’m sure you already heard, but the night before we were to take a ferry to Finland, Gaslight’s van was broken into. Luckily, none of their possessions or equipment were stolen, there was only damage done to the van’s windows. However, it recently came to light that a bag full of Frank Turner t shirts were nicked by the incompetent thieves. This, to me, is good news. I saw those hideous rags. Starving and naked children in third world countries wouldn’t be caught dead in such designs.

Let’s slow down before we get too far ahead of ourselves. Back to the missing of the ferry to Finland. So, Gaslight wasn’t able to make the ferry from Stockholm to Finland due to the local police taking their sweet ass time in regards to the incident report. We were already in Stockholm, hoping Gaslight could defy space and time and somehow arrive in time to make the boat ride. Apparently, the show in Finland was sold out and when the hell will I ever get another chance to step on Finnish soil? The answer is never because my liver is shutting down as I type this. Gaslight Anthem eventually did arrive at the dock just in time to watch their ferry begin to sail away. Now everyone was more or less fucked because we didn’t have an actual show for four days in the city we were already in, Stockholm.

We had no choice but to stay in the city of Stockholm until our eventual show later on in the week. On this tour, Polar Bear Club is like a dead beat dad. They have no money, drink too much, and once in awhile slap the wife and kids around. So, holing up anywhere for an extended period of time was going to financially ruin us. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find anyone stupid or generous enough to put up seven total strangers for almost an entire week. At the end of his rope mentally, Emmett offered to pay for a hotel room for the first night at a fancy hotel. While the accommodations were indeed swanky and geared towards client’s that don’t piss in water bottles, the actual room we were to stay was a four walled, windowless coffin…in the basement.

So there we were seven smelly dudes, one hard wood floored room, for three days. Can you even imagine the smells that go along with so many people who are fueled by fast food, beer, and sweat? No you cannot but if you want to get some sort of idea of what our room stunk of, go find your pet, light them on fire, and then let the body lie out in the sun for a week. Only then will you have a slight hint of the pain we all had to endure for an extended period of time. Of course, there are worse cities to be held up in so I can’t complain too much. We were able to stop in and have a drink in a couple of pubs and spend a lot of time with The Gaslight Anthem who were within the same hotel. Like I mentioned before, money was a concern and I no longer have a tax return. However, I suppose the time spent in the only hotel we’ll get on tour was worth it. There were truly beautiful aspects of the city including the pubs and restaurants. I know I’ll never forget that Pizza Hut across the street that we hit up twice.

Today I type from the back of the van, headed towards Milan, Italy. It’s a Monday afternoon, we have no show tonight and I’m on at least day 14 of my monthly life destroying alcohol bender. I haven’t seen the sun since we’ve been here and I consume at least 5,000 calories daily. As a result of the last two issues, I now resemble an industrial sized jar of mayonnaise without a label. Except balder. Clean laundry is now non-existent and the boxer briefs that I’m wearing are going on day six and would remind you of a pair of Jnco’s. Yes, yes. I’m just as shocked as you by the fact I haven’t had sex in months. In some sort of stupor I lost my toiletry bag so I push on by sleeping in my contacts, not brushing my teeth, and I go undeodorized. People, I literally smell like a female cat in heat crossed with an Italian submarine sandwich. Fear me.

Anyway, let’s get to the “weekly” list of my current favorite Polar Bear Club members. Last time I created such a list, there were a lot of hurt feelings. Here’s hoping for a recurrence of resentment and disdain. Live fast, die alone.

1. Nate – Old reliable, Nate. Mainly he keeps his number one status because I’m sharing the hotel bed with him and I’m pretty sure he’s reading what I type over my shoulder. He also has a moustache growing that makes Lieutenant Dangle look straight.

2. Emmett – Emmet moves up a couple spots this week due to his incessant bitching ever since my previous list was issued. I don’t want to hear about it anymore so I bumped him up a bit. Also, Emmett shows me noodz on his phone every once in awhile. Who doesn’t love mobile boobs?

3. Jimmy – Jimmy’s like that ex girlfriend you still bang every once in awhile. Nice to look at, easy, and after time spent with them, you remember why you cheated on them with that younger, better looking broad. No idea what any of that means. Deal.

4. Goose- Goose is all angry with me because apparently, last night, I got all drunk and started pissing on his leg. Goose has made me feel bad about it all day and won’t stop guilting me. He knew daddy was drunk! It’s his own fault for getting in the way of my piss!

5. Chris – Chris got all mad at me the other day for throwing a snow ball at him. Chris continues to love the Yankees as well. That’s all I got. Wait, after reading 4 and 5 it has become apparent that I’m a fucking prick.