Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Adventures in SLC

My new pal and Philly beer geek, Brendan recently shared the adventures of he, and his mates in the land of Zion. Here's an exerp from his Blog 'Brendan Calling from the Underground"
Check out his Blog. He seems harmless enough. The photo above is a reenactment of they're visit.

We played in Salt Lake City, as boring a fucking place as I have ever been. all the beer in Utah is half-strength, and the state makes it so hard to go to a regular bar that there's hardly any point in going out anyway.
Ah yes, that low alcohol beer.... We were done with our part of the show when we heard the news about the beer. To make up for the low alcohol content, Boogie began to drink twice as much beer as anyone else, following it with hard liquor, which is sold at full-strength in Utah. The result was that he hit Defcon 5, and was helped out the the van where he passed out in the front seat. It had begun to rain, and we had a long drive ahead of us: there is no straight shot from Salt Lake City to Denver, and it's a LONG drive that cuts through Utah's mountains northeast into Wyoming, crosses that flat state and then heads south through the Rickies into Colorado. "With this rain you better get a move on," said one of the guys helping us to load out. "If it's raining here, you can bet it's snow squalls in the mountains." I crawled into the back seat of the van to get some sleep. Jack was driving.
I guess it was about 1:00 AM when we pulled over to get gas and I heard Jack and Jamie yelling. "Jesus fucking Christ, what's wrong with you... put that away, put that away..." and something about pee. Great, I thought. Boogie fucking wet himself. With this thought in mind, I fell back asleep. Around 3:00 AM, Jamie gave me a poke. "Dude, get up. It's my turn to get some sleep." Reluctantly I traded places with him. Boogie was still passed out in the front seat, so I sat behind Jack, talking periodically to keep him awake. I peered out the window into the black, and all I could see was flatland. I smoked some more pot, dipping into a $60 bag of Mexican dirtweed my friend Phil had gotten me in Arizona. Jack pulled over and napped for twenty minutes or so, then began driving again. After an hour or two, the sky began to grow pale in the east. Watching a sunrise is a lot different than watching a sunset. Both are beautiful in their own way, but I usually prefer sunset. Usually when I'm seeing a sunrise, it's because I never went to bed to begin with, and there's something rock-bottom about that. I was able to see more out the windows: western Wyoming is flat and empty, great brown fields that stretch far and wide.

It must have been about 5:00 or 6:00 AM when the sun began to rise over the hills, and the sky changed from light purple to baby-blue, streaked with clouds that reflected the earliest of early morning light. I had developed a nice hemorrhoid on tour, and my asshole was itching like crazy. I was shifting in my seat when I noticed in this twilight hour that one of my CDs was sitting on the dashboard, out of its case. "Motherfucker," I muttered. "It's not enough that you fuckers broke the cd player I brought on tour, now you can't put my goddamn cd back in the case? What the fuckin' fuck?" I reached for the disk, "You fucking assh--- what's THAT?"
Both of the dashboard cupholders were filled with liquid.
"You didn't hear?" asked Jack.
All of a sudden, things clicked into place. "Ummm... did Boogie.. uhh?"
"Oh yes," Jack replied. "All over everything."
"Oh my God," I moaned. "I heard something but I tried to sleep through it. I thought he had just wet himself."
"No, not exactly," said Jack. What had happened, he related, was that Boogie had sort of awoken from his stupor at the gas station. "No that's not right... he AROSE," said Jack. In a complete blackout, Boogie had unzipped his pants, taken out his penis, and peed on the dashboard, in the cupholders, on the floor of the van, on Jamie's hats, and on Jack himself. The only reason the van didn't smell like piss was that Boog had drunk SO much beer that his urine was largely water. I dropped back in my seat, stunned and disgusted. The sun still hadn't quite crept over the horizon. We drove in silence for another 20 minutes before Jack pulled over behind a dozen tractor trailers along the highway and shut his eyes for a nap. Two crows perched themselves on a dumpster next to us and began eating garbage. I was the only one awake. I had to pee so I got out of the van, and hopped over the barbed wire fence into a field partially covered in snow. I'm a little on the modest side, so I walked out of view of the highway beginning to fill up with morning traffic. As I stood in the still, frigid air draining my bladder on the frozen dirt, I watched the first golden rays light up the east. That's pillar one of our demise.

I bet they wish they'd read my rant on ABW vs. ABV. Thanks again to Brendan for letting me use his words.

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