I'm Too Old For This God Damn Shit

I’ve spent the last 45 minutes trying to connect to this person’s internet. I am my father, minus the heart condition. Technology now confuses, enrages, and saddens me. Here I be in Los Angeles, typing away at a Microsoft Word document hoping that someday the internet will return to me. Instead of sending very important business emails (saying hi to my mom), Trevor finds himself listening to the Archers Of Loaf and telling himself this is the day he finally stops drinking and smoking. Per usual, I am the only person up even though I wish I wasn’t. A quick turn of my head to the left reveals a slumbering Nate Morris who is snoring and wheezing away like a basketball slowly losing all its air.

I flew in to Seattle two nights before our mini tour with Living With Lions actually began. I met up with Polar Bear Club who was putting their finishing touches on their latest full length which as of now is still untitled. (My vote is for either” Led Zeppelin V” or “He Who Is Sick of Weird Al Is Sick Of Life” but no one tends to listen to the alcoholic) These boys have spent the last month or so holed up together in very tiny quarters smelling each other, hating each other and recording a song or two. I knew if I disturbed their habitat chaos would ensue. You ever hear about how scientists or anthropologists sometimes stumble upon a civilization that has been untouched by the outside world for thousands of years? Well, this was the same think except not at all. So I just peered in to take a look at the barbarians and luckily I wasn’t spotted and nothing was thrown at my beautiful face.

Earlier in the tour, whilst boozed up, apparently I declared myself the only living party animal left. Nate tells me I slurred a pretty boastful line claiming that “I’m the only party animal here, the rest of you are extinct.” Well, this animal needs to be euthanized. Tonight, I feel like someone sucked out my insides through a crazy straw. I absolutely refuse to drink or party tonight and it’s all the fault of Living With Lions. They’re either too young or too Canadian. I just can’t keep up. You can call me Slurms MacKenzie for I am partied out. Well, at least for tonight. Well, at least until the show is over. Well….

Our shows have been going over well with at least one hundred kids in attendance. Hanging out with familiar faces in Portland has been the highlight of my trip as of now. Meeting two of the nicest metal dudes of all time was an extra treat. New friends in Anaheim and Hollywood, especially the ones who bought me beer, also brought a rare smile to my mug. (Thanks Steinmoney, step up your game Felicia.) A couple more shows and then it's back home to the land of the futon and suicidal ideation!

Now earlier I mentioned that I was writing this really early in the morning and I had just woken up. That isn't true at all. The truth is that we're in Las Vegas, Nevada right now. It's about 90 degrees but don't worry, I'm dressed in long sleeves and a winter beanie. I gotta hide the shitty tattoos and the hairline of my grandfather. A large pair of sunglasses and an umbrella would probably protect my china doll like skin but that may be a tad bit ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as the captain's hat Jimmy has been wearing. (Hollywood changes people) Soon, the show ends and I find me a hooker. Not for me. No, no, no. For you, my readers. Where's that beer?