Just a few notes:
I was at the merch table in Seattle and some kid straight up gave me forty bucks. He told me he had illegally downloaded all my albums and he wanted to repay me. That’s pretty much the coolest shit ever. Perhaps this will become a trend? (in my fucking dreams)
I did a fair amount or arm signing last night. Like 3 or 4 different arms. Still trying to wrap my head around the functionality of that but , hey, whatever floats your boat. Signing tits makes WAY more sense.
I ate Jack In The Box for the first time ever today. This will not become a trend.
While waiting for my food this weird goth/metal/hip hop hybrid guy asked the guy at the register if the sirloin burger was good. Understandably, the register guy was thrown off by anyone asking questions concerning the food quality of Jack In The Box. He lied and told the hybrid kid it was good. The kid bought 2 of them. SALESMANSHIP IN EFFECT.
I’ve heard some pretty funny pick up lines thus far.
My favorite being in Bellingham, WA when a girl asked me if she could trade me something for a cd. Seeing where this was going, I kinda just played dumb. “like what?” I asked. Her offer? Breakfast. Smooth. I politely turned her down and she stormed off calling me a “Cock blocker”. Definitely the first time a girl has called me that, particularly referring to my very own cock.
Hotels that are crappy but livable (Econolodge level) have very shady plumbing. Flushing twice to make a piss go down the toilet is a bad look. Especially when you’re not pissing.
I know it’s cliche but to say I’ve been eating badly in an understatement. And it’s not your typical “fast food every day” kinda thing. I’m more speaking on my own inability to not get the worst fucking thing on the menu. Why on earth did I order the bacon covered mac and cheese for dinner last night?
To be fair though, my homeboy who we were eating with (who is actively trying to eat healthy) ordered the “buffalo chicken salad” which is probably about as healthy as drinking cocoa butter.
Last night all the dudes I’m touring with and I crashed at some really nice big house in Portland. I actually have no clue who’s crib it is but I do know that I just woke up on the bottom level of a child bunk bed. I hope this kid likes the smell of whiskey farts.
That’s all for now…more to come.
California, we’re coming…