Always Mailing It In

A couple weeks ago I started to write up the events that took place on PBC's last UK tour with fellow Bridge 9 bands Ruiner and Defeater. I dug out my notes, read through them and realized I'd pretty much used the same exact jokes in the previous blog I posted last time I was bored enough to log into blogger.com. Sing my Friday nights now consist of working until ten, consuming a pint of Cherry Garcia and watching either Buffy The Vampire Slayer or "Love Actually" on reapeat, I now have all the time in the world to scrap the original UK tour wrap up and start anew. But fuck all that, I don't remember a god damn thing except the following details. You're welcome.

UK Bridge 9 Wrap Up
A man crush was developed between Defeater lead singer D-Man and your friend Tracker. Jimmy from PBC became extremely jealous and somehow developed the first known case of simultaneous bulimia and anorexia in an attempt to win me back. D-Man and myself talked at length of getting a studio apartment together but alas, tour ended and so did that dream. I haven't talked to him since. In my eyes, Jimmy is still yesterdays news.

Rob from Ruiner was usually pissed about something and then took to the stage shirtless singing his angry songs about how much he hates cats.

On some night I was at my most obnoxious at perhaps drank too much. Nate tried to choke me to death while Goose played my beer belly as if it were some sort of pale, flabby bongo. I later went on to flip Goose's mattress at a hotel, spill water everywhere and grind chips into his hotel room rug. For about one day Nate and Goose didn't talk to me.

So there you have it, that's all you get and now we move on. In the beginning of July, after a Foreit gig, I was at my best friend Goose's apartment in Syracuse for a bbq. Everyone's favorite hardcore frontman Ted from Another Breath showed up on his Vespa and was kind enough to inform me that my blog was no longer "fresh". Per Ted, my little journal here had run its course. Ted owns an iphone and went to an expensive college so I immediately knew he was correct. So, I was actually going to change things up a bit and write about that one time I exchanged money for sex acts but then I realized the world isn't ready to hear about my penis that's been in a permanent state of hibernation since the early 2000's. (Think Han Solo frozen in carbonite). Also, fuck Ted AB. The result? More of the same kids. Here's how I spent my summer vacation with a couple cameos from the dudes in some band called Polar Bear Club.

All sorts of weird feelings have been swirling around in my big ol' giant bald head as of late, I gotta tell ya. After months and months of time off (weeks) Polar Bear Club and myself leave tomorrow afternoon for a lengthy tour of the United States. Summer is almost over and I'm starting to get anxious and tense. As Fall approaches I feel like I'm preparing to go back to college. Instead of waking up next to a random dude and sleeping through my 8am remedial math class like in the old days, on tour I'll be up by 6am every day thanks to Nate's deviated septum. While at college it was the Dean of Arts and Sciences I had to beg for forgiveness and rentry after scoring a 0.33 for the academic year of 2002. But come tomorrow, after spending all of the merch money on ribs and corndogs for prefrosh Goose and Super Senior Me it's Professor Menke and his T.A. Jimmy I'll have to answer to. If I could have somehow relate Chris Browne as the Bursar to tour life this whole paragraph would have turned out a lot funnier. But here we are again, both writer and reader are both left wanting more.

Earlier I mentioned that this post was going to be about how everyone spent their July/summer vacation. That's not going to happen since I barely talked to any of those dudes while I was at home. So here's what I did - I worked. As per usual, my employer stole tiny bits of my soul and desire to live on a nightly basis - nothing new there. To tell you the truth, if I had written this out about a week ago you'd all be getting an entirely different attitude out of me. The longer I'm home, the longer I think about perhaps actually acting my age and finally growing up. You know, quit living like a borderline hobo, go back to school, get a place of my own again, and finally buy a Boston Terrier that I'd name Larry Bird. Keep losing the hair, finish the ongoing physical transformation of human to turtle, and continue the streak of not having a girlfriend in over two years going strong. However, the eve of tour with bands I've never actually heard besides Fireworks, I am a changed man! Well, sort of. Wait. Here's to changing back to my old self and here's to digging my rut even deeper. This I promise you....every night I'm going to be a sloppy drunk mess. Every night I'm going to sweat and leer over girls ten years my junior. Every night I'm going to annoy the piss out of Emmett Menke. Every night I'm going to promise Nate that tomorrow is the day I finally quit smoking. And every night I'm going to feel like the luckiest dude in the world because I'm surrounded by the best dudes and best band currently in punk rock. While home I dropped a couple pounds. By the time this is over, I'm ballooning back to 200 lbs. Why? Because while I might hate myself, I love booze and burritos.

Oh, I did see Chris Browne a couple times while home and he was nice enough to pose for me as I took a picture of him, check it out here. Please know this entire entry was just a vehicle to post that link.

This entry may have sucked but the next couple of months won't. I mean, I get to see Face To Face for about a week! Touring until the end of the year, dates up at www.myspace.com/polarbearclub
Here's to living forever. Or at least two more years, whichever comes first.