november 8, 2002 nottingham, boat club
 

wow, for a day that looked like it was going to suck, it really really sucked. we arrive at the scala to load up our equipment and naturally it's raining cats and dogs. soaking wet we begin our trek to nottingham-approximately a 150 mile drive. should this take 8 hours? today the fact that our van only goes 40 kmp/h up hills is not an issue since we never get the chance to get near that speed. it's traffic from london to nottingham and we are late again.

the boat club is a pretty amazing place to us since it's the same stage that bands such as led zeppelin, t. rex, the sex pistols, killing joke, siouxie and the banshees, the pretenders, deep purple, uriah heap, eric clapton, black sabbath, judas priest, iron maiden and def leppard have graced (not to mention supertramp, genesis, elton john and rod stewart). tonight i channel the spirit of john bonham and destroy my bass pedal. noel gallagher seems to be here egging us on. and our friend yuko flies from japan to visit us.

we all go out for a big night of drinking only to have THE MAN come down hard and heavy on us - "sorry mate it's shut" is the common reply. so we make fun of cricket and eat chips that taste like an old wool hat. its raining and there are drunken english fratboys with their saucy tart girlfriends passing out and vomiting and urinating everwhere. it's pandemonium and i'm shocked by the public lack of decorum. somebody call martha stewart after she gets out of jail and clean this place up!

 
 
 
november 9, 2002   glascow, king tut's wah wah hut
 

with nottingham behind us we head north to the great country of scotland. i believe this is the first time i've ever been to scotland when it wasn't rainy and grey. it's beautiful and the sun is shining. it's a long drive but this time we plan for it and get up really early and i practice my scottish brogue for tonight. this will be our third show with enon and shouting at motorists and it should be good. scotland is always fun even if we can't understand a word they say up there.

when we cross the border there is a whole regiment of kilt wearing bagpipers who salute us. turns out scott is like royalty here-the clan macleod and his castle waiting for him up in the isle of skye means haggis and blood pudding for all of us. we immediately paint half of our face blue and start playing golf. i'm working on a covert deal between scotland and the us where scotland secedes from the uk and becomes part of the us, then we run a pipeline across the atlantic so we can have access to scottish water, which they seem to have plenty of. seriously, uk you better watch out-don't think tony blair's not just a little nervous when ol dubya eyes the water supply over here. forget oil, the future is written and it is called WATER.

glascow is filled with beautiful, funny, sexy people and is the home of charles rennie mackintosh, poster child of the arts and crafts movement. we head to the student bar and listen to a barrage of noise and accents and drink and yell and drink and then fall down. i speak in a scottish accent and all the glaswegians say it's "shite" but I know the truth. they are afraid that I've cracked the scottish brogue code just like i cracked the mason handshake. thank you, glascow, yer a fae bit wee but i luv ya, i do!

 
 
 
november 10, 2002   leeds, cockpit
 

i get up 15 minutes early to go over and take pictures of the glascow school of art designed by charles rennie mackintosh (mack daddy and daddy mack of the arts and crafts movement)-we are supposed to leave at 11:30. i return to the hotel to meet the others when i discover that i woke up an hour early. i find this very displeasing. it's sunday and everything is closed until 11 am so i've got the big nothing to do now. anyway, they finally all get up and we hit the road. hopefully we can make good time because we found some scottish turtles to drag our van south-i think it's probably mostly downhill from up here in scotland. this drive is beautiful-once again, by some fluke, it is not raining and the countryside is amazing. if it didn't suck i would definitely be a sheep herder.

this is our last show with swearing at motorists and enon and it is sad to see them go, but then we are sick of them anyway. get lost you chumps. leeds is the home of famous joe, when tom got written up in kerrang because he rescued me when my drum monitor caught on fire. how many people can say their drum monitor caught on fire? how many would want to?

 
 
 
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