Since we returned from 9 days of breathing in noxious materials and thrashing with the lowest-brow degenerates in the dregs of north America, we've been fucked. While we have nothing on those gunslingers in the middle east, the symptoms are present...fatigue, slower reaction times, indecision, disconnect from one's surroundings, inability to prioritize. Totally worth the side effects. Fucking killer time. Thanks to everyone who put us up, danced like maniacs, satisfied our chemical appetites, paid $9 for a hoax 7", bought a wet T-shirt, or sacrificed their living room floor. Thanks to Now That's Class for showing me the most deranged scene of mutants I've ever seen. Special thanks to Canada for showing us more love than anyone else. Death House was a dream. Cheers to everyone who came out from Hamilton ON. Thanks to the shamaness in Toronto who seduced me with fire. Sorry to those in Montreal who wanted records. You always want what you can't have, so says the Youth Attack records marketing plan.
Are we back together? I still don't have an answer for that. I never know what I'm doing from one day to the next. Sean doesn't know where/who he is from one minute to the next, and Tony is a transcendental druid whose decisions probably depend on the moon cycles more than anything. All I can tell you is if we're offered an all expenses paid night of wreck-less, ignorant behavior there's a good chance we'll be there.
