p0tat0es: (block party)
An epic tale of grand proportions about a boy, his band, radio station bigwigs, and drunken Panamanians, in the great white northwest...
p0tat0es: (block party)
My head is fucking throbbing. This coffee right here doesn't seem to be helping any.

I'm applying for two county jobs - one to be a "Court Operations Specialist", t'other to be one of those people who sit in the little glass box in the bus tunnel and sell people Metro passes. I'm hoping for the bus tunnel job. Both pay well, but I think I'm more qualified for the latter gig.

Speaking of gigs, if anyone feels like making a road trip up to the scenic Scandinavian wonderland known as Stanwood tomorrow night, I'm doing a show at the Stanwood Hotel.

Here's a map. )


It's just about the coolest little punk/rockabilly bar you'd ever be likely to find in...some place like Stanwood. Yah.

You know the old cliche about the guy who - through all the bad jobs (or lack therof), the failed relationships, and the people who just don't understand - wants nothing more than to rock?

Well, that's me. I feel like Bryan Adams in the Summer of '69.
p0tat0es: (spider monkey)
Made the röck with the band yesterday. Dave and I debuted one new song a piece. Dave's new song sounds sorta like something I would write. Maybe that's why I like it.

From there it was off to the Stanwood Hotel (2nd weekend in a row!) for some rockabillyness and whatnot. The first band (The Haymakers) were quite entertaining, and whipped out a cover of MDC's "Chicken Squawk". Next was The All American Playboys. They looked sharp in their little suits, but when you do a Sonics cover, and then all of your original songs sound like Sonics covers, then no get up can save you. We skipped the third band.

I abstained from the usual 40 of Pabst as my stomach was doing backflips (thanks BK Chicken Sandwich). After a brief pit stop at the grocery store, we went back to the Bryant Compound where more beer was drunk, dogs were played with, and fun was had by all. And the cats tried to kill me with their histamine-attack-inducing fur. Gah.

Home now, safe and sound. Itchy though.
p0tat0es: (Default)
LJ is being weird tonight.

Yesterday, I made the röck with the band, and then we went, as a group, to The Stanwood Hotel for more 40 ounce PBR madness. In attendance was one Mr. Van Conner, late of Northwest grünge stalwarts The Screaming Trees. From behind, he looks just like our old drummer. Weird.

I came out relatively unscathed, but I cannot say the same for my bandmates, who were all nursing severe hangovers.

Haw haw.
p0tat0es: (Default)
My day yesterday began with making an appearance at my brother's houswarming party. I got to see several of my nieces and nephews and brothers-in-law and sisters and whatnot. From there it was straight to Sean and Bob's crib for some serious American School Of Warsaw recording action. I got through a few songs before we called it a day.

For the evening's entertainment, we drove out to Stanwood (right before you get to Camano Island) to go to the Stanwood Hotel - a punk rock bar in the middle of redneck hell. This place was amazing - the bands that played were tolerable, as was the crowd, and they had a decent jukebox. And to top it off, they served 40s of Pabst for $5.00.. Splendid.

We went back to the house and crashed pretty quickly thereafter. Today was more recording, a little songwriting, and a little pizza eating, and beer drinking, and baseball watching. I am now home, tired, unshowered, and in kind of a bad mood. (It could be that the bad mood is directly tied to the tired and unshowered bits.)

Blech.

March 2015

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