startin fires tour

Show tonight in Kingston.
Yeah.

i can see claritin now my rash is gone

After four days of incredible partying, dancing (my legs are whooped) and Valentineage, the dust has settled, slightly. I'll be heading back home for a few days later this afternoon, mostly with intention to visit family, friends, and shoot my term project.

This will most likely entail the drainage of my savings, seeing as I'm purchasing a brand new Sigma wide-angle lens for my digital body. But hey, that shit lasts forever, and who doesn't want a wide-angle lens anyway? Hopefully when I'm home I'll shake this cold, which has been perpetual for over a month now. On top of that, last night I experienced my all-time worst allergic reaction. A dark red rash spread over the upper half of my body covering my face, chest, neck, and arms. Seeing as I was scared shitless, I called my dad at 6 a.m. (karaoke, you understand), to which he granted me some sound advice and went to sleep.


The funny thing about this all is that I photographed the whole process, because I thought I was about to die. I showed my dad these photos and he wants to use them as allergic reaction examples when he teaches. Always glad to be of service.


The shitty thing about this is that I have no idea what I was allergic to. I came home after the bar and made my usual feast: oven-toasted pita with pepper, pan fried portobello mushrooms, arugula, hummus, and a big glass of pink lemonade. What the hell was I allergic to? I threw everything out this morning, including the giant pitcher of pink lemonade, which may have been the culprit of it all. Bummer, 'cause I love the pink.

But alas, after taking some Claritin, my face is back to normal. I also now have an epi pen.

banger and mash

I've got so much to say about girls, relationships, and sex, but can't properly explain myself because Manic has turned me into turned me into a fucking jittery-handed monster and I'd probably end up writing non-sensical shit.

Speaking of which, something I should bring light to: my segment in Talkin' Schmidt about ex-girlfriend etiquette has been receiving some flack lately. I don't really care. Every single guy I've talked to about this subject has fully agreed with me. One thing I will grant the female viewers is that, because of editing the segment due to time restraints, a lot of footage was cut, which probably would have helped in the explanation.

It all really boiled down to jealousy and attachment. Like most men in relationships over six months, we tend to view our women as "my girl". You look at her from across the room and say "that's my girl", which is a mentality that stays with you long after the relationship has ended. You see it in the movies all the time: when the divorced wife begins seeing another man, the ex-husband usually loses his mind with jealousy. It's not much different in this case. You become attached to that girl on so many levels that when it comes time to separate, most of the feelings for that person remain engraved on your heart and slowly fade like hieroglyphics.

So in my case, when I see an ex-lover with new man, what the fuck did you think I'd feel? I'm not some cold-hearted knucklehead with no concept of sentiment. I look at the guy and say in my head:

"If you hurt my girl, I'm going to rip off your cock, marinade it for two years, and then serve it to you in a restaurant and you'll think it tastes good".

What I said during the segment makes full sense. It's only human to be jealous of some man touching your girl. And although it may have been me that ended the relationship, I have every right to still feel strongly for the well-being of ex-lovers. Even so, I always remain civil when in the presence of the two of you - I shake hands and make you look really uncool - but just remember that the jar of brine is never too far away, if you catch my drift.

No Need To Read This Next Bit

We're back in town

London that is. After leaving Halifax, we thought we might as well drive all the way home, all at once. 27 hours, three caffeinated drinks, four tanks of gas, and more fast food than I'd like to mention later, and we're home. The thing about the energy drinks is that I couldn't get to sleep once my driving shift of four hours was up, so I never slept. I can distinctly recall driving through the GTA around sunup, barely there. My body shut down completely, while leaving me with enough energy to understand whether I was going to crash into another vehicle or not.
The funny thing was, I didn't sleep for most of the day once arriving home. I still haven't fully recovered from that night. Remind me to tell you a funny moose story later as well...

The Wooden Sky

The same night we arrived, we went to go see The Wooden Sky perform in Paterson's backyard. Awesome show. Not only did we get to drink Olde E for the first time in months, we saw a ton of old friends and met a lot of great people. I even saw the boys from my old band The Dustbowl Refugees, which I'll detail at a later date. Check TWS out for sure. Super psyched on their new record.

Golf, Big Time

Myself and the boys went golfing yesterday in St. Catherines. It was Dan's first game and he killed it. Well done my man. It pissed rain nearly the entire time, but we played anyway. Darcy and I both had flying-club incidents, which caused me to "peek" in laughter (which means it doesn't get any louder). I won closest to the pin on a hole, which is always nice. My prize money payed for gas on the way home. Dan and I also cleaned up in the prize draws, taking home the majority of the gifts. I fucking love golf. Alright? I LOVE IT.

Family Time

It's quite rare for me to have any quality time with my family when I come home. I'm usually rehearsing, eating at King's Inn Diner, visiting friends, attending whatever event, or curing a hangover. There's really not enough hours in the day to see everyone. Luckily for this weeks visit, I have plenty of time. Made tortellini prima vera for dad, visiting gram for the first time in a dogs age, made bbq'd corn salad and butter chicken for my ladies, and driving around town with my sister listening to Jackson mix tapes. Awesome.

Retro

By god, was that ever an interesting night.

The Heart

I've mentioned it a hundred times over: I have a bum ticker. It's not all that bad, it just gives me shit every once in a while. There's nothing like the feeling your palpitating heart is about to explode out of your chest. I'd arranged to have an Electrocardiogram with my dad about a week ago, which took place this morning. Everything looked pretty normal, save for my pulse, which pumps around 89 beats per minute, sitting down. Later this afternoon I have an appointment with a cardiologist to have a 48 hour heart monitor installed onto my chest. This is funny to me, considering we have a show to play tomorrow night, and I plan to beat the living shit out of my drums. Hopefully it doesn't run out of batteries and die like the last one. Electrodes are so much fun.

The Beard

I've never heard so many mixed reviews about anything. My beard has hit an all time record in length. Some people think it's handsome, others think it's burly and and out of character. Even last night, two ex-girlfriends of two years gave me polar-opposite reviews. What the hell? Maybe it was too radical a change for some and they're just not used to it. Either way, I'm going to keep it for at least another week I think. At least until I can't take the ridicule.

Haircut

I got a haircut yesterday. I proper haircut. One that I didn't do. My hair was a little pissed I think. I can't remember the last haircut I got professionally. However, it did feel good to get my head rubbed by some cute 'dresser. I think I'm going to marry a hair stylist just so I can get my head rubbed every once in a while. When I was young, my mom would brush my hair to get me to sleep. There's something about that brush that just conks me out. Looks good though.

Travel Tick

My career, no matter what it eventually may be, will not be boring by a long shot. Even as I sat in the waiting room today, my skin crawled with the notion of a desk job. The kind of job where the only things that excite you throughout the day are the fan turning on and off, lunch breaks, having to take a piss, and maybe the dirty magazine you keep in your filing cabinet. No thanks, not for me.
Even after being home for only days after traveling, I want back out. The thrills were all there on this trip: the strangers, the scrounging, the filth, the distance. I travel quite a bit for someone my age, only because I allow myself to. I have no sympathy for those who are jealous, because I have no more opportunity than the next person. Initiative is what separates the do'ers from the dreamers. All it takes is some simple planning, some vision, some money, and you're off. Don't wait for your friends to finish three years of school, just go get it.

On that note, I have to go clean the trailer. In two hours I'll be a robot.

hue and lights at cto

Last night was an outstanding show.
After a grueling amount of rehearsals over the past weeks, we pulled together a well-received set that was over 3/4's new material. There were a lot of highlights to the show as well: I got to play the drums sideways, Darcy and I both had solo's during a jazz intermission (except he got to play the kazoo), we had a song that was just drums and whistling, and most importantly, nothing broke or disconnected. It was just one of those shows where everything went smooth from start to finish, except when our sound guy Eric had us set up onstage in front of everybody, only to make us wait while he took a piss. But once we hit the stage, it was all set to go.

Seeing as we were playing with the pop-wonder LIGHTS (myspace.com/lights) we knew that people would show up, but we weren't ready for how many.
I got a text from my sister early on in the night asking when to show up for the show, I replied "come now, there's 150 people waiting to get in", and that was before the doors even opened. Once they did, the place just flooded and we were to hit the stage in about an hour. By the time we'd finished our set, the Sold Out sign was placed on the front door. It got really, really tight. Once we hit that last note (or punch), it was time to tear down everything at record pace. Yet the only problem was, we couldn't get off the stage. People had surrounded every corner of Call the Office and we had no way of getting our gear off the stage. So we (meaning Hue and Everlea) formed a gear-train that involved lifting huge amps above our heads in an effort to get everything off the stage so that the next set of gents could get playing.
Another thing I wasn't expecting from this show was the general demographic. I forgot who we were playing with and what her fan base really is: screaming young girls. I am not, in any way, saying this is a bad thing. In fact, it was one of the most hilarious and enjoyable crowds we've ever played to. Playing to a hoard of girls kicked ass. After every song they'd cheer, and after everything you'd say they'd scream. I joked later about screaming "Does your mother like it dirty?"..."YAAAHBLLAAHHAAA!" I even threw away broken sticks at the end of the show, and they ate that shit up. I guess if you're too young to drink, you have to have your vices, which leads me to my next point: these kids spend!
Not only did they like the music, but they wanted to have it. Apparently we sold over twenty albums last night and filled up over two sheets of paper for a mailing list. We also signed a lot of CD's, which made me feel like a rockstar dickhole, but it was all in fun and it was nice to meet a lot of cool people.
Needless to say, the night was a huge success and I only want to tour with popular female musicians, forever.