Post #124330 by Formikahini on Mon, Nov 8, 2004 4:37 PM

I keep starting to type, and I freeze.

The horror is still too....real.

And numerous. So many bands, so many bad experiences. I mean, where does one START?

** The drummer who was so drunk in Tuscaloosa that he peed against the wall in our host's guest bedroom (thinking he'd found the loo)?
** Bass player so drunk that she fell off the stage in Knoxville - WITH her giant stand-up bass?
** Our two guitarists beating the sht outta each other in New Orleans, and the black one getting chased by the police for it, NOT the white one.
** The Jackson, Mississippi show at WC Don's(shudder). (Their name stood for "We Can't Decide On a Name". how clever.)
** The creepy, creepy owner at Dog Alley in Charleston, awakening for the day at sound check (7:00 PM?), descending the stairs, shirtless, preceeded by two huge black labs, and covered with dozens of fresh cuts on his back. hmmmmmmm. Got outta there fast after the show.
** Not getting paid by some scary thug who threatened to beat us up in addition. Somewhere in Louisiana...
** Giant fight I got in with our drunk rhythm guitarist outside The Nick in Birmingham, ending in "Fck YOU!!" "NO, f*ck YOU!!" I don't usually fight that way. I was, um, agitated (by his theft and unwillingness to fork over the cash).
** Watching two marriages - with kids - implode due to an internal affair.

I think Jackson, Mississippi wins. Maybe I'll bring myself to write about it one day. (It involves the hideous owner's beautiful girlfriend, lost keys to the RV on our way to Mardi Gras, pot and fried pickles...and Better Than Ezra.)

I think I've repressed lots of other memories.

Lotta good stuff happened too in the years 1982-now, though. I won't lie :)