goin goin, back back, to hali hali

It's funny.

Right about now, past moments from this tour are actually turning into distant memories. Even as I sit here now, I glance over to the table to see the June issue of GQ that we stole from some espresso bar in Charlottetown PEI. They played chill music there and had a great wireless signal. The girls working were all good looking, and they had a lot of classic rock posters on the walls. That's one of a thousand memories.

Usually at this point of trips this length, two things happen: you realize how much you miss home, and how much you'll miss it out here.

The other night we were walking home from Pogue Fado, only to realize that we were way, way of course. Most of the cabs had been taken because it was already late on a busy night. Our feet hurt from walking so far and we were all bellyaching at the fact. Right around that time, we realized how good life was at that moment. There I was, walking the streets of Halifax with two of my best friends, on tour playing rock shows across Canada. Around that point we sucked it up and walked to McD's, where we ate McLobsters. They're pretty much a crime against seafood.

The trip has been awesome, and I'm glad to have to narrating it along the way. I largely write these stories here simply to catalogue what's happened, so that one day I can look back and say "Oh yeaaaaa...", yet I hope you enjoy the read as well.

We leave Halifax for home tomorrow morning.

tour photos

six, six, siixxx!!!

Like any good band would, we went to go see KISS the other night.

None of us are really serious KISS fans, but that wasn't the point of going. Some things in life are just meant to be witnessed whether you like them or not. Seeing Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, Tommy Thayer, and Eric Singer play together onstage was, to some of us, as important as seeing the Mona Lisa: it's not that cool in real life, it just has to be seen.


...and any excuse to wear a hick trucker hat and scream "SIX SIX SIX!" in the streets was good enough for me.

ps. for the record I had the best Gene Simmons-tongue impression, if that's worth anything.

metal on metal!

Last night the boys and I watched Anvil! The Story of Anvil

It's a documentary on the 80's metal band Anvil. The film circulates around all their trials and tribulations over the past 30 years. It's incredibly well done.

The nice thing about watching this doc when we did, is that we are currently going through some of the same issues they went through while on tour. No pay, can'd gigs, low attendance, stuff like that. So you can image how nice it was nice to sit back and watch other bands freak out for an hour, except Lips (lead guitar and vocals) would assault the club managers. I'm still trying to get Dan to try that.


So yeah, watch this movie, even if you don't like metal.

hali hali

Quick Update!

We're currently in Halifax, Nova Scotia! We've been put up by Darcy's aunt and uncle, who are quite possibly the most accommodating people in the east coast. They've welcomed us into their home with open arms and have shown us some of the best Halifax has to offer.

I'll go into further detail later. Possibly after we take the Alexander Keith's Brewery Tour. You're jealous.

Anderson.

T.C.H.

Sadly, we're back on the Trans Canada Highway. And for the first time this tour, we're heading west. However, there are some stories to be told.

St. Johns was honestly a fucking blast, and I really mean it because I use my cusses somewhat selectively in my writing. Everything, from start to finish, was straight up fun.

I should first mention a funny story. Somewhere during the drive from Corner Brook to St. Johns, we were listening to the local 103.9 radio station. Turns out it was all-request-hour. I semi-jokingly told Dan to call in with a request. After some slight hesitation, the call was made. We weren't exactly sure how popular this request station was and if our call would ever be heard, but oh was it ever.

103.9: "This next request is quite interesting, give it a listen"

DP: "Hey there this is Danny from the band Hue. Me and the boys are just here from Toronto playing some shows and we'd love to hear some Boney M: Rapsutin."

103.9: "That is the best request ever"

Dan and I used to listen to Rasputin for hours in high school, so naturally we chose that song over even more Steve Miller Band. We recorded a small snippet of their conversation, which is just hilarious. I'll see if I can post it one day. It turns out that the same Boney M album was the stations Dj's first album. Needless to say, they played our request and we banged heads to the theme of Russia's greatest love machine.

Upon our arrival, we checked into a fantastic hostel. Everyone working there were overly hospitable. The owner, Dave, was a super cheery guy, and ran one hell of a unit. This particular hostel had a few interesting perks: every bed included a towel (which is unheard of in the hosteling world - usually it's either you bring your own, or plan out your drip-dry session), was located directly downtown, and each room had a (full) beer fridge. Wicked. Good hostels are hard to come by.

One thing that went really well on this trip was the Screech. I set fairly high expectations for this occasion, seeing as I was underaged my last visit to Newfoundland and couldn't drink the rum. We rolled up to a liquor store downtown in hopes of finding some Screech (the rum itself). One of the employees asked if we were from out of town (Darce thought we were about to get I.D'd), and if we wanted to participate in a Screeching ceremony downstairs. Hells yes miss, we do. The three of us ventured downstairs to a cellar filled with memorabilia, liquor, and old people. Looked about right. We were greeted by Buela, the host of the event, who confessed to be from the year 1892. Proper!

The whole process was there: the background of the liquor (Screech apparently came from the sound American settlers would make when drinking it), the kissing of the cod (except ours was unfortunately made from wood), the pre-liquor phrase, and then the rum itself (which ain't half bad - if you're at 26.5 this summer, you may just get a taste). We regrettably didn't have a camera on us, because we weren't planning on taking picture of ourselves buying booze. Oh well. At least we got certificates. Mine was signed "Eastwood".

I should mention we forfeited two shows in St. Johns. The venue simply was never meant to be played in. No microphones, no rugs, no place to watch from, no place to play, no P.A. system. Just people sitting and eating. We didn't even introduce ourselves to the staff. We just ate panini and got the fuck out of there.

We were hungry for shows. Buela told us to check out a place called CBTG's. And check we did. We went out that night to check out the venue. For those of you who know your Toronto, it was almost exactly like the upstairs of Sneaky Dee's, except totally backwards. Everything from the grungy floors to the tiny wooden stage, that is always on the brink of giving way. The bathrooms were barely there. Wood panelling separated the boys room from the girls, and there were holes in pretty much everything that could have holes in it.

Aside from us talking to the staff about playing the next night, I remember drunkenly chewing poor sober-Danny's ear off about how much flavor St. Johns has, which is true. For those of you who don't know (and I didn't either), St. Johns is the oldest English city in North America. The residents have their own very distinct dialect which, at times, is almost inaudible to the ears. The harbors are littered with fishing boats that just wreak of authenticity. The canons of Signal Hill actually sunk invading ships back in the day, and there are enough original Newfy sing-alongs to put a Christian songbook to shame. There's seriously flavor in that city. Ask anyone who lives there.

That night, Dan met one of the performers of the night. His name was Thom Coombes. Dan mentioned that we were a touring band from Ontario and Thom graciously asked if we needed a place for tomorrow night. Considering the hostel was costing us over a hundred dollars a night, we gladly excepted. That's called Eastern hospitality. When was the last time you invited three strangers into your house after only a minute of conversation? Me neither.

After a few calls were made on our behalf to CBTG's, we had ourselves a show the next night. Beauty.

The day of the show we trekked up to Signal Hill. What a great day. The three of us spent a few hours on the hill simply enjoying the sights. On one side you have the entire St. Johns landscape and harbor. On the other you have an uninterrupted view of the ocean. I won't go on about how auspicious the sight of the ocean really is, because you really have to sit there for yourself and marvel at it's massiveness. I decided to go for a hike down some of the parks trails. After ascending to the coast, my curiosity lead me down another path - one that I would soon regret. What I ended doing was partaking in a "Coastal Walk", except backwards. I walked for so long that I went all the way from the foot of the ocean to some scuzzy place called the Battery Hotel and Lodgings. I called the boys, warning them that I had no idea where I was, or where I'd end up. Ten minutes later I called from the side of some road for a ride. My feet took the brunt of the hike. Stan 2's were never meant to scale coastline the way I did. Let's just say there's a good reason why my big toe is still wrapped in napkins and electrical tape.

Later that night we played our set at CB's. Fun show. Really hot, really tight, and loud as hell. Just the way I like my pants. Met some really cool people and had a lot of fun times.

Afterwards we went back to Thom's place, which also coincidentally held the number 26 address. I can't really put into words how much fun that night was. Amongst Thom was his hilarious housemates Bart, Megan, Dave, and Danielle. Their house was an expressive junction of creativity, imagination, and clutter, aside from being incredibly cheap to live in. I think I shot an entire roll of film that night documenting all the rooms. The majority of the night was spent in their living room bouncing between beers, laughter, rolling joints, stories, spinning records, smoking cigarettes, and general tomfoolery. Everyone living in that house had their own special brand of comedic genius, which mostly revolved around a "nothing to hide" mentality. Right around the time the sun came up (which was monumental because we were one of the first in the Western Hemisphere to see it), we headed to the nearest gas station for chips and beef jerky. My body was literally crying the next day from the amount of sodium coming from eating a bag of Scream Cheese Doritoes.

We woke up the next day around 3pm to go for a pleasure cruise. We found ourselves a nice little spot by the ocean to skip rocks and accidentally get soakers. After that we went back up to Signal Hill to sit in the van, listen to records, and stare at the ocean. There wasn't really another option for our last day in that city.

Afterwards we set up around 11pm for our next show at CBTG's, which is an unheard of time set up for a show in Ontario, but the bars do serve licka until 3am here, so the shows go on, and on. However, aside from some technical difficulties, we pulled together a solid show. Again, cool people, fun times, and lots of flavor.

We're now heading back to Corner Brook. We're playing our second show at Dooly's tonight, which should be interesting, because we're performing right before UFC 100 airs, which can mean one of two things: Either the people there to see the fight (which means everyone in the bar) will get really hyped up before the fight by listening to some rock, or I'll catch another bottle in the chest - except this time it'll be on purpose.

whoa sick!

Story:

Last night, as promised, we got drunk.

Afterwards, when walking home, Dan and I decided it would be funny to hug these two girls walking the streets. Little did we know they were both meth-heads and wanted more than just a hug.

My wallet!

As we embraced, all I could feel was the girl raiding my pockets looking for loot! I immediately ejected from the hug and ran away screaming. I woke up this morning hoping it was all a dream. I felt oh, so so violated.

I'll use the classic Ryerson excuse for all of this:

"It was dark, and I was drunk."

signal hill

I'd been here many years ago.
Usually when you see distant places as a child, the memories you keep seem to either sour or sweeten over time. When you're a kid, you're never really interested in towns foreign to you. All you really care about is what you are missing back home. The sleep-overs, the game releases, shit like that. This is the same reason I'll never take my youngsters on vacations to Europe until they reach the age of appreciation (I say that now).

Until only weeks ago, memories began to flood back about this town.

I remembered more than most towns. Smells, streets, directions, and the severe steepness of the hills. I really didn't know what to expect upon rolling into the downtown core, but the sights sure haven't changed much over the years. It's still beautiful.

We immediately headed for Signal Hill upon arriving into St. Johns. My uncle was married on this hill many years ago, and I remember it like it were yesterday. Such an incredible sight. On the left you see a structure that resembles a medieval Scottish castle, subdued by the ocean pouring into the city. On the right you'll see the beautiful harbor and all the bustle that is the St. Johns interior. Kind of like Vancouver, except cheaper with less pretentious assholes.

The only real point to this entry is to say that St. Johns, Newfoundland is a wonderful place. We're here now, hosteling (Dan and I are owning here), and enjoying a shitty bottle of XOXO wine. We're about to walk the town like dirty sailors and hopefully get Screeched (look it up if unsure). We'll be here for a few days, so I trust you'll all be flying out to party.

Tour Diary pt. 2

Well, well, well. We meet here again.

I'm currently sitting in the "Havana Club" lounge aboard the ferry from North Sydney, Nova Scotia to Cornerbrook, Newfoundland. I see families playing Uno, old men reading in leather chairs, and I'm pretty sure Dan and Darce are drinking the beers they brought on board somewhere on the deck.

This is the part where I bring you up to speed.

The "tour" itself has been pretty entertaining so far. Due to some miscommunications (I'll call it that, for fun) we've been shorted a couple shows. Although unfortunate, we've found ways to occupy ourselves.

After realizing we had a little more free time than expected, we made our way to Prince Edward Island. Aside from the somewhat dreary weather, PEI is pretty much exactly how I remembered it as a child. Super rolly hills, lush beyond imagination, boats everywhere, and lighthouses galore. The one thing I didn't remember was the red soil? That was pretty cool. It was a very similar color to the Australian outback's red sand.

Our first night there was spent outside of Charlottetown. Very simple campground. We played dice, drank beer, and then went skateboarding. I'm so glad we brought that thing. There's nothing better than giving a few good pushes on the old skate after a day of driving. Darce and I played S.K.A.T.E. for an hour. I'm almost certain there was no winner, as we are both super rusty from almost no practice since high school. He still has his kickflips, I still have my pop-shuvs, and that will always be the case. The next morning we made for Cavendish.

The town of Cavendish, although nice-looking, is a tourist pitfall. The streets are lined with mini-putt, glow in the dark mini-putt, ice cream shops, burlap sack slides, and shotty wooden roller coasters. Sure sounds nice from a distance, but not the easiest place to live in unless you're staying at a B&B.

After departing the next morning, we headed back to Charlottetown. We'd heard our friend from back home Patterson was playing with her band Greenbelt Collective at Ampersand downtown that afternoon. We met up, realized they weren't playing until later that evening, and then ate fish & chips. Dan raves about that fish, although the batter wasn't thick enough for me. To each his own fish I guess.
We decided to head back for New Brunswick, and why? To catch the free Canada Day concert in St. Johns, headed by no other than primo-Can-Rock-all-Star Joel Plaskett. That was a great show. It'd been a good couple years since I'd seen his show, so it was nice to see what new tricks he's been up to. The show surely didn't disappoint. The only downside was when I got hit in the chest by a flying beer bottle, which later broke at my feet. Which was later stepped on by some dumb lush, which lead to, Blood! Blood!


If my memory serves me, we headed to Sackville, New Brunswick after that. We showed up to Unkle Larry's Hall and they'd never heard of Hue. Fantastic. What did we do after that? Take full advantage of their nine dollar pitchers of couarse. Later that evening we took a cab from our trailer park (which is quite ghetto in concept) back to Larry's, fueled up, and made our way to Main St. to party with the Greenbelt bunch. Pretty fun night. Seeing as they are an 8-piece band, their "night off" consisted of a bunch of solo sets from most of the members. Interesting stuff. Highlight definitely goes to the wonderfully cute Katie Coran for her endearing solo material.
Most of their band was on mushrooms, so the dialogue between them was mostly hilarious, if not interesting at least.

The whole night felt like a Canadian tour party adventure. The kitchen was full of junky old instruments for the playing. Bottles of whisky and pipes of smoke rolled around the room like mosquitos, except far less pesky. Bodies passed out everywhere. Somebody playing MLB. People hanging out in vans doodling in notebooks, and local heroes coming and going all night. Fun stuff. We threw down an ultra-quick and ultra-shhh set (it was late) towards the end of the night. Hopefully we'll get the video that was recorded that night eventually.

I think I'll just skip to my next favorite part of the trip.

Two nights ago we stayed at this family trailer park. Well, they're all family, but this one was packed with people. After more tour bad news, we decided it was beer time.
We began playing frisbee in the park located in the centre of trailer-ville. After about two hours of drinking and hardcore frisbee-trickery (some ridiculous shit went down that day) it began to rain. We were later joined by a bunch of kids.

Initially it was Rory (aka Ror-bot, Roro, Boy-Ro), who was awesome. Just one of those really honest and open kids with no boundaries. His "high-school" friends got him really into rap, so he beat boxed and we free-styled. How rad is that? On top of that, he looked exactly like the kid from Two and a Half Men. Later, more kids showed up and we had a full-scale game of 500 on our hands. The three of us were all in the bag, so watching these kids fetch our frisbee and balls was almost too much to handle. So funny. The even funnier thing is that Dan was amongst them during the catching process. Darce and I would sit back, throw things, and all these kids + Dan would chase after them. I'm not sure if you had to be there, but that is so, so funny to me. We all played again later that night and got yelled at by people trying to sleep. Oh well.

Now, I'm not sure how well this next part is going to go over, but I'll write it out anyway. Dan and I thought it would be a good idea to swim naked in the ocean. Seeing as we were already intoxicated, we convinced Darce to do the same.
I've always kind of looked for that perfect "drunk" image. You know what I mean? Something that just screams "Wow, those guys are drunk,". And I think I found it.

I looked around. I was sitting, completely naked, in the trailer smoking a cigarette. I look over, and Darcy is playing the guitar, completely naked. I then look to the other side and there's Dan, completely naked, wondering when the hot dogs are going to be finished. That, my friends, is what drunk looks like.
I think I'll end this post right about here. You'll hear more stories in Newfoundland.

Dear East Coast, Part 1

So far so good.

Our tour of the east coast has, so far, gone without a hitch. Actually, it's had many hitches. Trailer hitches! Terrible joke.

After a slightly rocky start involving break lights, Canadian Tire, and a mechanic named Marc, we were on the road. Darcy and I have been driving like true champions. Par example: We drove from Kingston, Ontario to St. George, New Brunswick in one day. Considering that we're pulling a trailer as heavy as our own van, it took us a considerably longer time than expected. 20 hours straight to be exact.

Once finished, it really was worth it. We worked in roughly five hour-long shifts behind the wheel. For those of you who know at least minimal Canadian geography, we also drove through Quebec. We planned on stopping in Montreal for some lunch, but the two hours it took just to squeeze through the rush hour traffic scared us pretty straight. Maybe on the way back. Quebec was awesome though. We stopped in some smaller towns to nab some food and gas. This also meant that we had to squeeze every ounce of the French language out of our heads. Yet, to be totally honest, I really love that about foreign territory (both literally and figuratively).

It's really quite a thrill to challenge yourself in such scenarios. We went to Subway for dinner that night. Before we arrived, I mustered up as many phrases, subjunctives, verbs, questions, and items in my head as possible. The girl working spoke very little English, so I did my best to accommodate her. Let's just say I ended up with a douze-inch jambon sub, sur neuf-grain pain, avec concombres, fromage, tomates, olives, sel et poivre. Life is funny like that.

After that, we drove all night. I don't recall if I wrote anything about driving all night last summer on the way to Vancouver, but I really dislike it for many reasons. For starters, it really fucks with your sleep pattern. On top of that, if the back seat of your van is filled with coolers and merchandise boxes, you're in for an awful nap. I didn't sleep a wink because I'm over 6' tall boy crammed into a 3' compartment. Outside of the sleep, you have to worry about hitting animals. Seeing as we were driving through the marshes and woods, we were in prime deer and moose territory. Warning signs litter the highway for hours.

The only thing harder than looking out for animals all night is the actual staying awake part. If my memory serves me, I began my portion of driving around 2:30 AM. As we stopped to refill our tank, I stared coldly into my least favorite section of any convenience store: the energy drinks. For those of you who know me, even badly, know that I steer away from energy drinks to save my heart from beating out of control. But alas, I needed something to keep me from dreaming behind the wheel. I settled on Monster mostly for traditions-sake. BK and I drank that last summer on our only one-nighter through north Ontario, so I drank that for my brosky. Let's just say it worked.

We cut our way through the fog and rolled into St. George around 6:30 in the morning. We rolled up to some parking lot and (tried to) sleep.

Several hours later we set up camp in the most ghetto trailer park I'd ever seen, which is just fine. Water and hydro is all we really need. Once set up, we showed up for soundcheck at Paul's Wharf. We honestly didn't expect much from this show. St. George is a super small town, full of weird people that just sit on street corners. The venue was pretty much what we expected: ski-lodge interior, a big Jager banner, a semi-hot bartender (the kind that drunk old perv-bots find beddable), video lottery machines, a dusty old patio, one really drunk guy, and a menu filled with fried shit. The place maybe sees a dozen different guys on a daily basis, because the ones who do show up just get drunk and pump quarters all day.

Aside from first impressions, the show went fantastic. Lots of people showed up, payed the cover, and enjoyed the show. Morton our sound man provided us with excellent monitors. Many stuck around for both of our sets, and even bought some albums. Between our two sets I smoked some cheeb with the locals, which proved for a very interesting second set. Let's just say the first 15 minutes were spent over-dubbing the various club tracks that were playing. We made a substantial amount of loot to boot, because we apparently took in all of the money at the door.

Kim, the wonderful organizer and bartender, was so hospitable in every way. She hooked us up with a bunch of contacts along the way, gave us free coffee with breakfast this morning, and let us in on the free Joel Plaskett show in St. Johns on Canada Day.

Like I said. So far so good. More to come, I just need more battery life.

try not to open any doors

Some trips just don't end the way you'd like. 

Upon arrival we made our way over to the car parked at the airport. After stripping down every piece of luggage, we sadly realized that my mum misplaced the keys somewhere along trip. 

This caused a lot of hair-pullage because we were so ready to go home by that time, and that is a rare thing because my mom and I are the two most easy going people on the planet, especially my mom. 

Example:

In high school, I once thought that somebody had stolen the car. I called my mom and told her that the car was taken, and she told me to relax and not to worry about it. Most parents would castrate their children over the phone, but my mom just kept cool. I found the car later after realizing I'd parked it elsewhere. 

Long story short, my mum and aunt were towed away and spent the night in Mississauga, where they would await a new set of keys the next morning. My mom cried because she felt so stupid, and I hate seeing my mom cry. I'm sure once she ate a Bounty bar and drank a Diet Coke everything was cool. 

the banks of the Danube

Budapest was simply incredible. It's always at the top of the list when asked about favorite cities. The city was just another classic example of glorious European park/city integration. I was out for a run one afternoon and decided to head down to a park on the banks of the Danube river. There were cafes lining the river selling everything from beer to ice cream. Massive gardens, free-roaming dogs, softened running tracks and lawns groomed to perfection. 

 

Aside from being the most polluted river in all of Europe (due to incredible amounts of boat traffic), the sight of it at dusk is incomparable. Apparently you're in love if the Danube glows blue at night. I wouldn't go that far, but boy was it ever blue. 

Later on in the evening there was a river cruise with dinner and wine. It was one of those occasions where I couldn't decide whether I wanted to capture the beauty on camera, or simply take it in and enjoy the breeze. In comparison to most of the camera-happy Yanks that occupied the boat, I think I was relatively tamed in terms of snapping shots. 

I should also make note that I was the official digital camera whiz of the night. Once some of the older fogies caught word that I knew how to take night shots without the use of flash, I was a hot commodity. Two-thirds of that boat now (hopefully) know how to properly program their cameras. 

Also, funny story: there were some old Jewish women from New Jersey asking for help. Once I made some adjustments they continuously said things like 

"Oh my gaawd, Awndy. Thank you sooww muuwch for fixing my cowmera, yow my heroww!"

So yeah, really hard to dictate a Jewish-Jersey accent, but I do a good impersonation. 

a bugs life

Apparently there's been some confusion. I am not coming back on the 8th, because I'm already here. I'm in my condo unpacking and enjoying the water (Toronto has the world's best water).

ps. this post needed some spice so I threw in a Photo Booth shot. I take the funniest shots on the Bulge setting, mostly because I look like Flik.

london calling

Ahhh London...

The Andy has landed, and I currently sit in an internet cafe beneath a hostel. Oh how this reminds me of the good old days. I remember when we'd be sitting in Queenstown at some internet cafe playing World of Warcraft for hours. And by playing I mean me hating every moment because I sucked at it and am a devout Command & Conquer fan. What was I talking about again?

London. What a busy city, my god. Even as I sit here not I peer over to a subway map that appears to be a sprawling maze of twists, turns, and diagonals. We've mostly avoided using transportation, as it has caused mass headaches and confusion. Millions of people walk the streets, and most of them are dressed better than the last. So, so much money here. Every bloke has either a Ferrari or a BMW Z3, and a brand new Civic is considered below-grade.

My hotel is situated right outside of Kensington Park, which has been such a bonus because every morning I treat myself to an hour walk through the park, past the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, past a few palaces with swans on the lawn and through the park, which makes Victoria Park look like a grass stain on a pair of jeans. Just to get an americano.

From there we've been doing a lot of bus tours and a bit of shopping. The fish and chips are boombastic, and again, the ability to roam the streets with a beer is ever-present. The cans of Foster's here have the widget in the can, which ups the quality so much from a carbonation point of view.

The city is massive. At least with the other cities I've visited, when you walk somewhere you actually feel like you've made some progress. Here, you walk for an hour and barely make a blip on the map. The cars drive on the other side, so I've been in a few close-calls already. All buses are double decker,and I've seen every major monument in the city there is to see (save for a few musical monuments and addresses that I wanted to see but won't).

Seeing as I have six minutes left, I will conclude the final Spreken Ze Talk from overseas. I will still continue to update this blog once I return home tomorrow, so if you feel like a good read (and one that hasn't been quite so rushed), tune in and I'll throw a lot more content up.

All I can say for now is that I'm sad to be going home, but am pleased to know that I'll see most of you when I get back. Thank you so much for the feedback and the nice emails and kind words. It's been a positive (and stressful) experience, not only to document for myself, but to let those who are interested know what's been happening.

Thanks again and stay tuned for more

back to the futuren

Okez-dokez. Seeing as I am in Frankfurt, Germanz, I am using the hotel kezboard and the kezs are all mixed up. Most obviouslz, the place of the Y key has been swapped for the Z key, for speed and linguistic reasons. So Iäm choosing not to edit anz of this post for pure comedic reasons.

Ive also chosen not to skim through cities as I've been doing latelz. Thez're all amaying places and deserve proper right ups, so I will visit them all at later dates when I'm good and readz.

But reallz, Slovakia, Hungarz, Cyech Republic, Austria, and Germanz have all been incrediblz beauitful. There have been so manz hilights along the waz and so manz rolls of film taken. I plan to set aside a sum of monez to get these rolls processed when I get home, mostlz so thez don't end up in the bin of exposed film downstairs in the studio - which I've never had the time or monez to process mzself.

So zes, tonight will be the last night in the European Union before embarking on to the United Kingdom for four dazs. We'll be in downtown London near South Kensington for that remainder of time. To be honest I have no idea what we're doing. I'll probablz end up doing what I do in everz citz: get all buyyed up on cheap beer and go running around the citz for an hour or two. This is bz far the fastest, easiest, most amusing waz to see the sights and mazbe even get into a little trouble while zou're at it.

Also, if anzone would like a postcard, send zour info to me and I'll do mz absolute best to get them out.

Furthermore, another reason to have a beer in celebration: Hue was accepted to plaz at NXNE this summer. Boo za ka sha.

pps. since this post is boring as hell so far, I should mention that I was sitting in Vienna enjoying a beer and Beyonce walked behind me. I said to a friend 'Oh hey, that was Beyonce'.

t-minus

Polish Salt Mines. This is a UNESCO world heritage site.
It was quite the amazing tour. I would elaborate more, except time is running thin and will later. For now, it is pics galore.