Boston

Portland's name was chosen on a coin toss.  The other name would be Boston.  Based on our experience there, it'd have been a fantastic sister city.

The show was amazing, the people were genuine and generous, and it had one of the worst penis grafittis ever.  Only a bonus.

More later!

Stay well,

Phil

RICHMOND SUCK CITY!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we've been pretty far behind in updating this, but JESUS GOD do I have a bunch of crazy shit to tell you guys about.

I'll start as far back as I can remember: a few days ago.

Richmond, Virginia was pretty much the shittiest experience any of us have had on any tour, and the shittiness of it was magnified by how awesome of a time we had the day before (playing in the ocean waves at Virginia Beach, drinking beers discreetly in the sun, and singing along to sweet Jimmy Buffet covers on the boardwalk). We were scheduled to play at this anarchist collective house in Richmond, which we figured would be great, judging by our political leanings and previous experiences at such places. Gee boy howdy, were we wrong.

We rolled up to the house and immediately noticed the huge mural painted on the front of the house that said "DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF ALL THE PEOPLE MURDERED BY THE STATE" and had a painting of a pig dressed like a cop getting beaten up by a bunch of people. Funny, yes (hell yes!), but indicative of the sort of venomous anger we were about to encounter from the people inside the house. The next few hours consisted of them laying down the strict rules of the house while we were under their roof, waxing philosophical about the best way to kick people's ass during the revolution (a sock full of broken glass or a boot with nails in it?), and members of the household running out the front door every five minutes to yell incoherently at every cop car that drove down the street. We then played a short acoustic set to two people that lived at the house in their living room. Apparently, even though we had been invited to play there, nobody bothered to tell anyone, or even wanted to have a show at the house. Yeah, it was a pretty intense couple of hours.

Here's where shit gets crazy.

Later that night, one of the members of the house invites us to go swimming in the river (hell yeah!). Katie, Kevin, myself, and 2 people from the house hop in the van and head down to the river. As we approach the river, a man sitting alone at the top of the hill angrily asks all of us for a cigarette. We pass him and head down to the water, where there is a shallow creek running into the bigger river. There is a large object in the middle of the shallow creek.

"Holy shit...is that a body?"

"No, no, it must just be some rocks..."

We ventured a bit closer...

"Oh my god, it's a fucking body! Call the 911!"

There, lying face down in the creek was the body of a woman. While Kevin called 911, I waded into the water to see if she was still breathing. As I got closer, it looked like she was breathing slightly, and suddenly, she rolled slightly to her side and breathed in a mouthful of water and air. After rolling her over to her back, loudly asking for her name and whether she was OK, we helped her up and determined that she was completely wasted, and couldn't remember how she ended up face down in the river. For sure, within a few more minutes she would have drowned if we hadn't stumbled across her.

Remember the dude who angrily asked us for a cigarette at the top of the hill? At about this time, he had made his way down to the sandy beach of the river and started yelling at both us and her.

"Aw, leave that bitch alone, she's just doin' it for attention! She always does this shit! Goddamnit bitch, now they're gonna think I tried to drown you in the river! Get the fuck over here and put on your shoes!"

After several minutes of yelling and confusion, we determined that they were, in fact, together, and both completely black out drunk. I got their names and address, under the guise that I might be able to give them a ride home, and went to talk quietly to our crew.

"Listen, I wanna call the cops. We don't know if this was an attempted rape or murder, or just a drunken night, but either way, this girl is in a terribly abusive relationship. We should make sure she's safe."

The anarchists eyed us angrily.

"We don't call the fucking cops for ANY reason."

"Um...okay, what are your other options?"

They stared at us blankly. Jesus.

Eventually, we made it back to the house where I discreetly called the cops, asking them to check in on the girl to make sure she was safe. The anarchists were pissed that they didn't get to go swimming, calling the two drunk people "just some Richmond white trash" and that "this shit happens all the time". A great excuse to not get involved. Talk about nihilism.

Needless to say, we woke up the next morning and GOT THE FUCK OUT OF TOWN!

Now, before I sign off, I want to be clear that this was the dregs of anarchism, a bunch of kids running around with a black and white view of how the world should work, and it doesn't necessarily represent that community as a whole. But good god, lemme tell ya, we were all pretty glad to get the heck outta Richmond!

Next up: more awesome stories from NOT sucky places! ALRIGHT!

- Rob

Tour songs

If I could explain what 3:53am is like nearly 5 of 8 weeks into a nationwide tour, this would be the most interesting blog in the world.  But it's not that easy.

I'm plugging away at a phone with a backlit keyboard, and it seems like each time I know where to start, the screen times out and it's lost with these little light up buttons.

It's so strange.  The smile you give when you first meet a new face is so genuine.  The introductions vary, but they're the most rewarding encounters.  But giving that, and only those brief glimpses of yourself, is so exaughsting.  Some folks you meet for an hour, you share the most pressing details of your life, and you lose track before you can say good night.  Others you get to know all day, and you share just enough for a wave goodbye.

It's a weird way to travel.

Back home you make fleeting connections, a word or two, "oh, i got your text" is about all you hear, even though you talked daily before leaving.  Some folks check in constantly, and you hadn't talked in months, or years, before departure.  There's no hard feelings of course, it's tough after a few days slip by.

So here's a story about a fox.  Condenced a little, as i'm fading out as quick as my inspiration to write fades in.

A little fox was born in a traincar, eyes closed to the world for the first weeks of life.  In the first days, there wasn't much more to his world than the rumble of the tracks, and the occasional shrill sound of steel, iron, and all the other metals that turn the gears of transit.

When we are born, or adapt, into a situation, whether it be hectic or passive, it becomes the standard of our state.  This fox didn't have much but a few consistent sounds beneath his paws, and shaking his whiskers.  That is until the train rolled into town.

Coming to a halt outside of the Silver Dollar Bar, established in the early part of the century when trains were the network that kept the towns alive.  Train time is consistent in every city, before that noon and midnight were subjective.  The fox couldn't see, but the sounds he heard gave meaning to existance.  There was something more than grinding gears.

The town knew those train lights meant everything would be alright.

He wasn't sure how long or far he had traveled when his eyes came to open, but they did passing a town where two rivers collide, but all industry had died.  The train didn't stop there.

When it did, with whiskers sensing and paws warm to the ground below, the fox began his life away from the boxcar where he was born.  But the grapes were sour and the fruit seemed to be peeled and cored before he could find even skin to taste.  There was enough to get by, but it didn't seem enough.

And he never did find the fun in living in a hole.

Seasons lapsed, and the fox couldn't fnd a reason to stay put, so he ran.  He ran to the tracks, but no train would stop.  So he ran along the familiar heat until he (as a sly fox would) jumped into a crate that was set to be shipped, not too far from where he began to run.  As sly of a fox as he is, he couldn't quite read.  He had no idea where he'd be off to, but he sat and waited to be shipped, in a crate that read "Silver Dollar Bar".

As the station neared, the fox's ears perked up.  He knew the voices, the light that hit his unopened eyes, and each sound was the same. Who knew you can recall something you never had a chance to remember.  Or was it never a chance to forget?

When the train slowed, he slipped between the cracks to find every sight that could match the sounds.  With imagination to explore and skeptisism to understand, he found a town where each grape was sweet, the grass was so soft to the paw, and all the fruit was whole.

And living in a hole wasn't half as bad as it sounded.

The fox knew this place so well, even though each step was a new sight.  Or so he thought... it seems that the sly little fox didn't know he was on a shorter journey than he'd known.  Those cars he called home were only local service between ends of town, he'd ran so far, and rode so long, only to find himself at the other end of the yard.

Perhaps the world doesn't always feel whole... but finding the heart to explore the world around us, when it feels so stagnant, can bring the fruit of our eyes, ears, hearts, paws, and whiskers to fruition.

Stay well,

Phil

Punk Rock

>Our right mirror fell off...

Is it broke?

>Well, no, it's just in two pieces.

We could glue it back together.

>We could just duct tape it.  That's PR.

But that would look--

>Even more PR.

It's just going to fall off again!

>That's the most PR.

Lexington.

What a strange man I met.  I'm not joking, this is his exact rant, condensed down.  His name was Don Ho.

"You know how to fix the oil spill?  Put 58 million pounds of dawn in the ocean to cut the grease.  But you may be worried about the fishies?  Well fuck the fishies.  You'll go to the store and buy fish and it will tastelike detergent.  So what?!  Do you think I'm a man or a woman?  I'm both.  My vagina is on my knee, it talks to me.  Sometimes I talk back, I say... I say good girl.  I'm dating Hannah Montana. It's true.

My friend is a half bear, half man.  He lives in the park but I haven't seen him.  He gets in trouble for trying to steal the honey from Krogers.  Maybe he was hit by a car.

I have this rock, i think it's from Saturn, which is my planet.  (My friend Joe says "that looks like petrified wood.") Oh is that what it is? ("Yeah.. and that there is chewing gum stuck to it").  I see.  Women from other planets are strange.

Sex with women from Mars is no fun.  You don't feel anything.  It's like putting your penis inside a door.  But women from Pluto, they just spin around the whole time.  I've had 3 hits of mescaline and two pints of vodka."

That's about all I can recall at the moment.

Well hello there.

It's been awhile since we've updated on our adventures, but that's only because we have so much to tell.

We're currently heading from Columbus to Lexington. AKA Street-Ball Rival Town.

Kentucky proudly boasts the most winning college basketball team in history, which is quite impressive. But the Goof Punx were ready to throw down and show that when it comes our scene, we are kings of the court.

At midnight on the 4th of July, we stepped onto the pavement. Dr. Morton took power forward, P-Slam lead point, Kay-Dribbles and Dani-FunkaDunk switched on the guard.

Playing to 32 we faced up to Lexington with heads held high. Just one highlight: Rob sets a pick on the right block, Phil swings around and leaves his man in the dust, Danielle's defender drops off to close the gap, but not in time for a sweet bounce pass threaded through the key for Dani's 3 point shot.

Actually... what happened most often was general confusion, being too tired to do much but lay on the ground, and generally making an ass of ourselves as the Goof Punx fell to the Lexington Punx by a final score of 32-6.

Damn.

It's on!!

Lexington 2 on 2 challenge!