Banging Yr Way Into The Future, etc.

Only we could possibly set up a five day tour and have two of the days be in New York. Well, perhaps someone else could have done it is well, but they wouldn't have been banging their way into the future whilst doing it. I have absolutely no idea how one actually bangs their way into the future, you would have to ask Kevin Shea (or Sticks, as he prefers being called this for some reason). Shortly before we went on at the Knitting Factory he approached me and suggested that we start wearing cologne at shows. I suppose this would help us get more "in character" or make us "sluttier". Seriously folks, we played in Cleveland, OH. We drove approximately 8 hours to play to 30 people and not get paid. Someone drove 5 hours from Michigan to see us perform this feat. What sort of life is this that we lead? We played in Washington, DC to 10 people and got paid more than any other night (thank you Allison Wolfe and Chris Grier for that one). Jherek Bischoff played double bass with us in Brooklyn, and I think I probably scared him when I grabbed it and started jumping around. We played to approximately 300 people at Knitting Factory, many of whom were later heard exclaiming "I don't know why, but I really liked them!" We prefer people to be confused about the pleasure they take in us, guilty or otherwise. The night then went on to become the stuff of legend as Kevin Shea, Marnie Stern, Shah Motia, Zach Lehrhoff, Ari Fishman, Krystal Selbee, Raquel Medina, Leigh (last name omitted because I don't know what it is) and myself went to some karaoke bar that I can't remember the name of and all managed to spend untold sums of cash on drinks and songs whilst yelling ourselves hoarse. This was a good thing as we only had to drive to Boston the next day and play another show. The sound guy started vibing me at 5 minutes to 9 about going on at 9pm sharp. Kevin could not be located at 9pm although at 9:02 he was discovered in the bathroom taking care of "business" or dropping a "deuce". We slept in my uncle's basement and left the next morning without seeing any residents other than one fat cat. I tried to take his photo but he seemed scared that the camera might "steal his soul". We drove home and vowed to never speak of any of this again, a vow which I promptly broke and continue to break to this very day. Don't fear the reaper, etc.

We would like to send a singing telegram to our girl Marnie Stern for having us play some shows with her and another one to our boy Ari Fishman for his invaluable assistance. Consider that last sentence your singing telegrams. Special thanks to Robby and Zach and Katelyn and Raquel and Nate and Allison and Chris and Hugh and Todd and Jherek. You know who you are.