July 30 2009 "end of the road"

Tension feels high and everyone had a rough sleep. Last day of tour. Almost done. Its go time. We ate breakfast at a 50's diner and it proved to be excellent. A trip to yet another record store was successful. Ten hours or so to kill was easy. I sat on a random lawn near where the van was parked. I tried to lure a family of kittens into my grasp. They were not impressed nor did they fall for it. I retreated to the van heartbroken. We were eagerly awaiting the show. Of course it was raining heavy outside. We confined ourselves to the dirty inner workings of FDR and huddled around todd as he repeatedly tried to catch the elusive Zaptos. Not. even. close. Seventeen tries later we managed to burn up enough time for the doors to open to the venue. The load in was down a gnarly flight of stairs, made much worse by the torrential downpour. Good Things from Dauphin greeted us and we traded merch and hung out. I like to think of them as the Hominid of Dauphin. We went out for a quick bite to eat and ended up missing the opening band which I felt shitty about. Good Things thrashed onstage while the movie Thrasher played behind them on a projector. Gsts made a tremendous mess on stage with the help of everyone else rolling around and getting ignorant. Fun set. We played and someone ripped the scab off my skateboard wound so I ended up bleeding on anyone that came into contact with me. Seth rogan did vocals tonight. The sound guy looked like a metal reject. no shirt, eye liner, nipple tattoos. leather pants. Nice guy though. We were hellbent on getting home TONIGHT. We packed up and took pictures. Said goodbye. Todd and I drove through the night while Matt and Taylor passed out in the back. Even though we had just spent two weeks with each other Todd and I were still ripe with conversation, it was nice. We knew we had a show to play the next night in Edmonton. The van can stay packed. Get home. Three way hug. Say goodnight.

July 29 2009 " seth rogan"

Awake and sweaty. Looking out the window, we were in the ass end of a long drive to Saskatoon. 2 more hours to go. We had today off also. With nothing on the agenda, we wandered around the city like zombies and eventually found an overpriced sushi place that served mediocre sushi. We shopped for records while listening to intense death metal playing on the speakers above. Back at the van Matt somehow took a turn for the worse. Catching whatever sickness I had been spreading to everyone else all tour. He expressed his interest in going to a doctor while others, myself included, decided to catch a movie. Todd was at the black magic pyramid jam where he received the number of a girl who's house we could crash at. However, when we called this number, there was no answer. A few more calls and more answering machines and we decided to crash in the van. We found a low heat alley to park in and got comfortable. I took a sleeping pill from Todd "the pusher" Skitsko and got drowsy. At some point during the night we were unpleasantly awoken by the sounds of young hooligans trying to open the doors of the van. Thanks to the sleeping pill, I was so drowsy I didn't give two shits.

The kids moved on and I fell asleep to the sounds of the cars on the freeway below us.

July 28 2009 "I gave Durells name to homeland security'

We slept in much later than anticipated. But it didn't matter because my sleep was shit. Damn you mucous man. I stumbled out of bed miserable and shaky. Everyone was up eating and watching footage from last night. After a very long pack up and goodbye we headed out. The gsts mobile sans Reuben but + Durell sped off ahead and fdr sans Durell with extra Reuben got stuck in the ditch courtesy of Taylor Geddes. Now thats Geddes like lettuce not spaghetti or breads. Off to a bad start. It couldn't get worse. Or could it? Yes it could and it did. Somewhere along the way back to Winnipeg. Taylor drove us directly into the hot little hands of homeland security. Aka the US border. Here's a tip: if its not planned during your adventures, it is advised that you avoid the US border like a crazed bum throwing handfuls of infected syringes. They took our identification after we tried to explain we just made a wrong turn. Then they told us to park our van in a giant bay. Then they tore our luggage and gear out and searched the van. They questioned us thoroughly. All we wanted to do was pull a u turn. About an hour after being detained, they gave us the green light, but kept our dignity. One thing thats funny about all of this, Taylor was in his underwear while driving and spent the hour or so being detained as such. On the way back after some tension filled moments, we reached the US to Canada border. They, like the US border, took our id. questioned us thoroughly and removed all of our equipment and belongings from the van. A relatively short 30 min later and we were back on the road. I took the wheel and began a 9 hour exile death drive the FUCK out of Ontario's bipolar landscape. We caught up with Gsts in Winnipeg. They blew a tire and were parked outside canadian tire for the night until it opened. We left them in Winnipeg (peace you punk bitches) and Matt drove through the night.

I fell asleep listening to the van barrel down the road.

July 27 2009 "bipolar skies"

Another rough sleep. Moist and sweaty this time. Always with the sweaty. Moist was a new concept. 8:30 am. I did not want to be alive. Straight for the water and several gasping gulps later I realize today. This far into the exodus. That I hate sweating. I took a seat at the back deck of the cabin and collected myself. I watched matt swim around in the lake and slowly everyone else emerged from their sleeping quarters. The sweet escape from reality, sleep, was far away even though my brain was starving for it. Matt's dad informed us that we were not to be lounging around the cabin or lake area and we should be out doing "touristy" things instead. So after some commotion we got into FDR as a collective and ventured off in search of the sleeping giant. A literal rock formation, not the terrible bible worship band. However we didn't get far. At a tourists center, we were informed that in order to get the the rocks that form the giant, we were going to have to hike 28 kilometers. No thank you. Not after sleeping on a mound for 4 hours and waking up dead. Call me a quitter. I dont give a fuck. We made a quick stop in Silver Islet for some pictures and to visit the angriest dog on the planet. Decidedly we headed straight to Thunder Bay to find the venue. Thunder Bay is small and dirty. We located the venue and loitered around for 5 hours. What to do in thunder bay?... Go to safeway 9 times, and skateboard or in my case, walk and explore. The black pirates pub opened up and we crowded in and set up shop. It seemed a mormon playing a trombone was going to be headlining tonight. Fuck yes. The bands that played were... different. The trombone mormon fellow was in a broootal sludge doom band. An angry punk band followed, then a heavy as fuck metal band. When gsts played Drew pushed his guitar head into the ceiling and water fell out on his head. This was the best moment on tour thus far. The look on his face was priceless. Gsts managed to tangle everything that could be tangled and left the stage a giant mess. Cope played, I smashed into Durell. People asked us to play more songs which was pretty cool. After chatting with some local and non local folks, we went back to the cabin snacking on boxes of triscuts*** awaiting a feast that Matt's parents were preparing for us. We are lucky. And dirty. We feasted and talked about whatever tired smelly assholes talk about then headed to bed. Oh sweet sweet honey. Reuben, however, was the fly in my honey-bed of reality escape. I love this man, but not when he passes out on the floor, gargling his mucus. Worst noise ever.

I passed out for a few sweet hours constantly waking up to the sound of Reuben "sleep with

both eyes open" Houewling.

*** Someone is responsible for pilfering an unopened box of my triscuts. I was quite upset about this. The search for the culprit continues...

July 26 2009 " don't do drugs and phone your girlfriend"

Driving to thunder bay today. Weather cooled off quite a bit. Decent sleep. Durell made a comment about a cat tied to a string next to the van. The cat was not amused. I tried my hand at sleeping while someone drove. Impossible. Every sharp turn, every rumble strip was enough to get my heart beating out of my chest. We stopped only for food and fuel. Todd killed a lot of the drive while Reuben slept in the back seat, his eyes glued shut with pus. Awful. The destination we so fervently sped towards was Matt's parent's cabin. For a 9 hour drive, nothing eventful happened. No good conversation even. Oh well. We arrived and unpacked. Matt's' parents made us dinner. We decided to take a night swim. 5 sets of shriveled manhood later, we dressed up for a walk around the lake where we took pictures, shot fireworks and sat around in a field staring at the stars. The night sky is an impressive sight in thunder-bay. Dont see stars like this in Alberta. I slept on the front lawn in a tent on some lumpy sod.

I fell asleep lost inside my own head.

July 25 2009 "i h8 skateboarding"

I woke up sweating, no surprise there. This trip has been a steam room on wheels. Listening in on the chatter outside the van, it seems that Drew, at some point in the early morning unbeknownst to the others, commandeered the Gsts van and was not answering his phone. After some swearing he called one of us and was going to meet us at a walmart. But before we left to meet up we packed up our shit, threw a brick at a television screen and took some pictures of where some of our disgruntled caravan had slept. The field we were in had a dilapidated barn and some of the more adventurous of us had set up camp inside. No lights just some hay to sleep on and in some cases, knoodling. Unknown to them, the very ground they slept on, amidst the rotting structure and random farm garbage, lay a decomposing canine in one room and a decomposing cow in the other. What a treat. I'm glad I stayed in the van. I needed food in my stomach real bad-like so we headed to meet drew and got some smoothies. The road to Winnipeg awaited us Manitoba was new territory for me, however, my excitement was quickly dashed upon entering the newly adventured province. Why do the roads look like this? I don't know. I might be spoiled living in Alberta. A fast unrelenting drive to Winnipeg and we were there, lost on one way roads. impossible to navigate. We parked the van and tried our luck at finding the venue on foot. We inquired at a few stores as to where war on records music shop was and were pointed in the right direction. Filing into the basement and checking out the selection of records we found a few releases from our local xTruex which was cool. A restaurant called Mondragon was right next to the venue and we decided to eat there. A very cool and tasty place to eat. My favorite thing about Winnipeg by far. I was full and quite tired now so I ventured to the van for a nap. The van was parked across the street from a bar called "whiskey dix" what a pile of shit. Napping, then waking soaked in sweat. I had nightmares that I don't remember. Probably for the best. Loading into this venue was a pain. We had to carry everything from our shitty parking spot (there was little to 0 parking in this area due to the fringe festival happening) through an incredibly sketchy alley, down the sidewalk a block, and then down 2 flights of stairs. and all along the homeless people of Winnipeg were harassing us for money. What they should have been harassing us for was some memory retention because even though we said no while dragging a piece of equipment to the venue, on the way back to the van and again on the way into the venue they would ask. Kill. After that shitfest, we settled into the venue and Electric Candles opened. Very cool 3 piece. Gsts and Cope played and that's all I have to say about that. I am not feeling Winnipeg. The party in the parking lot outside the venue was a discouraging mess. We loaded our shit and got the fuck out out of downtown. Andrea from Kursk was graciously letting us crash at her place. We ate our tofu from the previous day and everyone settled into bed quick.

I fell asleep listening to "Make Love The Bruce Campbell Way".

July 24 2009 "the void"

I woke up thinking about what to do on our day off. With zero plans in this unfamiliar town, the morning was quite boring as we spent it lounging around Jenna's house, taking showers and arguing with each other. Sleeping in the van, I had missed out on a gong show it seems. Taylor got lucky last night and Reuben and Mike got stick and poke tattoos in commemoration of the tour. Incredibly enough, Mike got a boy turtle on one knee and a girl turtle on the other. The boy turtle with GSTS on the shell and the girl turtle with cope . Ask him to make the turtles kiss, its real cute. Reuben got ccddss which stands for "cross Canada dog dad shit show" one of our blog entry titles. Insane. Looking at my spoiled wounds they actually seem to be getting better which is a good thing because I dislike painful ooze. More arguing ensued and we decided to go to a grocery store for some breakfast supplies. We made some hefty omelette's and hash browns in Jenna's kitchen as well as prepare some tofu for later. Kaylee brought back slurpees and we sat around arguing what to do next. I was amazed to learn that Regina had more than farm fields filled with trash and abandoned appliances. They had a beach, so the destination was set. The drive to the beach was a windstorm sitting in the back of Jenna's car. I was having a great time until a grasshopper shot through the open window and hit me in the neck. With the windows rolled up, we arrived at the beach to enjoy a good ol' fashioned Regina sunset. A few of us ended up swimming but most sat at the picnic table in the shade like the senior citizens we can't wait to be. Seniors drink though, right? Because that's what was on the agenda for tonight. A bonfire was in the works also. We returned to Jenna's and Matt was MIA once again so after a bad time locating him far far away from where we were, we drove off into the country side of Regina for a good ol' fashioned Regina bonfire under the stars. Many people from the show the previous night were in attendance. A few of them were shooting a pellet gun at a log with cans placed on it precariously close to where I was sitting. Drinking began immediately. I began to drink apple juice, antibiotics ahoy! Some frustrating conversation on the topic of religion and abortion came up and I decided to opt out quickly and head in for some sleep. Being old as fuck has its benefits. However my dreams of sleep were interrupted in a harsh manner as an extremely high and drunk Durell Smith had come to tell me we had to move the van because it was not allowed where it was. So this severely impaired man maneuvered our van out of one sketchy field and into another. The sound of people fumbling around and bitching about where they were going to sleep was enraging. I wanted to sleep now. Eventually everyone fucked off to bed.

The last thing I heard before I fell into the sweet escape of reality was the sound of Todd puking and groaning in the front seat.