Yarwig Toure Dairy
7/23/05 W. Paterson, New Jersey
Fun times here, sitting on top of ________'s RV. Trying to avoid hearing them, fighting a losing battle. Boy, do they good-god-damn suck to high hett. ->oops. hell has no t's. ______ just can't sing. If only he could sing, they would just be an awful band with terrible songs with an OK singer. But I don't want to talk about those cockheads. I hate 'em. -----------> I digress.
The last few days have been great, a real treat, honest to god. Is "god" capitalized? Am I going to hell? Shit, is "hell" capitalized? It's a place, right? Ah fuck, can I start over?
We rolled into NYC on Thursday and found the BAGGOT inn, a place with a within-inches-of-being-completely-offensive name. Turns out it wasn't so bad. The band before us, an all-female quartet by the name of ...... something ...... was pretty decent, if amateurish. The bass player and the drummer rocked out, so Justin and I were suitably impressed. We played a rocked-out set using the backline and got out of there way too late (i.e. ________'s last song). Boy do they suck-a-luck-a-ding-dong. But we've covered that, I guess. It's funny, from out here I can only hear the drummer and the singer. The humor lies in the fact that those are the 2 most unbearable elements of said cockheads.
So anyway, we were kind of fucked when we left Ohio. We had planned at first on staying with Rich Cefalo, Earwig bassist extraordinaire. He's in Italy. So then we made plans to stay with Charles Palmer, Earwig drummer extralongword. His grandmother died, so he's in Columbus right now. Condolences.
______ just actually said: "Bruce Springsteen's from New Jersey?" Fuckin' Cockface Dick Lickin' Bitch! He said that onstage in Fucking New Jersey! Is this the fucking twilight zone? Fuckin', MLK failed!
Oh hell, where was I? Yeh, so we called our friend Dwight Scott from Delaware's legendary Gentle Dales, with whom the Bygones stayed the last time we went to NYC. Turns out, his roommates are out of town and he's up to not only putting us up, but he's insistent on partying with us RELENTLESSLY. He saved our asses, and then put us right back in jeopardy, god bless his nutty ass. A class act all the way, that Mr. Scott.
So Friday we wake up and try to find this studio in Manhattan. After spending what felt like years lost in Chinatown we decided to give up, as we had to get back to Dwight's to get our stuff. Eager to make our appointment with a TV studio, we rushed back on the subway. If you ever find yourself lost in Chinatown, don't do what we did. Just get the hell out. I don't want to come across as racially insensitive, but Jesus that place stinks. We played a 3 song set for Fearless Music TV, and they treated us real nice. It was hard to leave. Someday in the future, the three of us will be on TV being total nerds.*
Justin's addendum: Then we met the Jersey girls and the rest is history.**
*Fearless Music went belly-up shortly thereafter, and to my knowledge our segment never aired. Oh well.
**I was a little drunk when Justin wrote that in my book and I am a little foggy on what it means. I can tell you that it certainly did not involve any hanky panky whatsoever on my part.