Weekender With American Speedway

July 24, 2008-10:30pm: Got into Pittsburgh a little while ago. I had to duck out to some dark alley stoop to get away from the madness. The people who's steps I am sitting on are blasting Slayer from the third floor and it is echoing throughout the alley and setting the mood perfectly.
We rolled into town about about an hour ago. I was sitting in the van on the way here, and while reading it suddenly occurred to me how strange we probably look in the van. I am by far the youngest dude on the trip, and I pretty much don't know anything about the people I am going to be with for the next few days. I guess it doesn't matter. Pittsburgh is exactly how I pictured it just smaller and more hectic. The Club looks kind of depressing and smells like shit. The Smiling Moose. What a terrible name. I didn't see one attractive girl in the bar while we were loading in. The people actually looked kind of angry. I suppose I would be angry too if I had to live here.
After load-in Mike got me a beer. I swear to god the nu-metal bartender filled it half way with water. I havn't eaten anything all day and it's really messed my stomach up. I feel like I am dying, and I can't even fathom being around a crowd of people right now. However, this mission and my objective will not be compromised. This is my god-damned weekend; make way.
I just finished taking a walk down this street we are playing on. Carson Street. Trying to let this place soak into my bones. I have never seen such a strange variety of bars and people. There are a ton of both. The streets are crowded with college kids, bums and gutter punks and although it is slightly unnerving and and chaotic; it's fun to watch. Within the past half hour I have witnessed the following:
-An obese woman inhale a gigantic slice of pizza while sitting on the ground like a toddler.
-A crust punk and a homeless man beg me for money, which is only ironic because tonight I look worse off than both of them.
-A police officer having a heated argument with 3 Guidos on crotch rockets.
-An old man pushing a gallon of milk in a wheelchair
-One hundred thousand girls I want to bang
-2 fat kids playing the banjo and accordion singing a John Denver song.
Also, in adhering to this weekend's policy of doing whatever I want, whenever I want; I just laid. Well not exactly: I was standing on the a corner trying to decide which way to explore and I saw a beautiful babe across the street smoking a cigarette outside of a bank. I went over to "ask for directions to the Smiling Moose", and for whatever reason the conversation found us talking about Her and my favorite band; Hot Water Music. We talked for a while and I think she was drunk, but she gave me her number and told me to call her when the show is over so we can go back to her house and "party". . . we will see how that goes. Either way, the Smiling Moose has $1 PBRs, and they're calling my name. Speedway should be playing soon. Back to work.
Later: In the van. Drunk. writing with a night light and everyone is passed out. we have a 10 hour drive to Chicago, and I can't sleep in moving automobiles. This is going to be torture. Bring it on.
Speedway played like gods. So god damned loud and seamless. I sold some merch and talked to some chick for a while and found my self getting far too drunk to function. I was standing against the wall trying to not kill the lead singer of the headlining band when mike grabbed me and said, "Holy shit! have you been upstairs? Its fucking insane." By that point I had just about had all I could of the place, but going upstairs totally redeemed Pittsburgh for me. I know that I will never be able to accurately describe the the ensuing events, but I will never-for as long as I live-be able to forget the upstairs of the Smiling Moose. The 4th dimension. As soon I got up there, I felt like I was in a dream. It was a roomful of dark men in cut off denim, and the darkest and most unholy drug music was blaring so loud that it began to alter my perception of reality. Mike and I found chairs directly in front of the massive speakers and let the droned-out drug riffs vibrate our bodies. The walls were covered in old horror film posters, and the TV above the bar was showing some 70's gore/horror film, and I got the feeling that we were not supposed to make eye contact with anyone. We sat there for what felt like an eternity and I didn't want to leave. I still can't get over it. It was so surreal that I almost vomited from laughing. Holy shit. I think I know where I am going to go when I die.

July 25, 2008-11:45Pm: At some Bar in Chicago. PBR tastes good this morning. It's an unreal here. Mike and the guys are at some record store, and I took a walk and ended up here. This bar is too fancy for me, but whatever. We are trying to kill time before the radio interview at "Fearless Radio" on the other side of town. I think I will take a walk down to Wrigley Field after this breakfast beer. After the interview we are going to a suburb called Hillside to get a hotel room and get some rest before tonight's show. Although its literally 12 hours away, I am really looking forward to passing out and getting some solid sleep after the show.
Chicago is unbelievably clean, I really like it here. We rolled into the city at around 8:30 after driving straight through the night. It was funny to see everyone scrambling to work on the highway when we were arriving. We probably look like animals to these people. After we found a spot in the city we walked around, got some food, found a goat's skull on the edge of a river, and then sat in a beautiful park to kill time before the interview which isn't until 1:00pm. The park was full of young mothers and toddlers, but somehow everyone except me managed to fall asleep on the grass in the middle of their party. I was sitting on a ledge listening to them snore and while groups of people where trying to enjoy their mornings in the park. It was a pretty hilarious scene, but couldn't stick around for a 'bum nap'. I walked around by my self, got some writing done, looked for an open bar, called andrew, and then we drove to this side of town where I am currently sitting alone in a bar.
Hopefully today rules as much as yesterday. I am so grateful to be here. Pittsburgh is a god forsaken place. I feel bad for its occupants and hockey fans.
This bar sucks. The homosexual bartender wont leave me alone and I think its time for another walk before we head to the radio studio for the interview. I need to see more of this city.
Later-1:30pm:I didn't plan on writing again until tonight, but if I don't do something to get my mind off of these mother-fucks at this radio station, I'm gonna kill everyone. This is a pretty serious place. I feel like I am on Howard Stern or something. The host of "Mid day Debauchery" is the most outwardly dishonest pig of all time. Her questions and fake enthusiasm are making my stomach hurt. I can't imagine having to be such a shitty person for a living. Jesus. She just referred to the bands record as a collector's item, and said that the live photos on the back of the "packaging" are a "great selling point." Another dude just walked out of a door and gave me the 'hang-loose' gesture and said, "Yeaaaa, Rockers!!" He was dead serious. I am all out of words.

July 26-2:59pm: Happy birthday Mom! We are currently barreling through Indiana as 75 miles per hour. Last night was complete mayhem. After the Fearless Radio bullshit, we drove 20 miles west of Chicago to Hillside and got a hotel room. When we got there everyone passed out, but I refused to let fatigue slow me down. I took another walk alone while they rested. I ended up at the bar, and I drank with some crazy fucking Norwegians that were on tour. Due the language barrier, I have no idea what was said but at least I got to watch them completely destroy a pool table and cues. What strange people.
I went back to the hotel and ate the worst pizza know to man, and it killed me on the inside. We showed up at the BrauerHouse at 8 O'Clock only to be informed that we didn't have to play until 12. waiting around was pretty terrible so I jammed out on Mike's guitar and drank one million beers and chilled out with Billy K. I met a couple of girls and hung out. They were pretty dumb but were really easy to get along with. Nick from the mighty Bongripper came out to see the band and drink. Mike Nick and myself got loaded and talked for a while. I can't help but think that he eats human organs, but He's a great dude. I look forward to hanging out with him again when I come back.
I was being force fed free drinks and at one point I though i was going to pull a Slash and A Hendrix in the same night. I know that more cool shit happened but I honestly can't remember.
We have another 4 hours on the road and I wish it would never end. Its ungodly beautiful out today. I feel like so lucky. My head hurts when I think about Southeastern Pennsylvania. I am learning to love my life, but part of me feels guilty for getting comfortable.
Later: 8:18pm-Cleveland, OH: Just arrived at the club. The Jigsaw. This place is really fucking awesome and the sound dude knows what he is doing. Also, not only do we get free beer tonight, but they have the elusive and endangered 24oz PBRs! I wish we had a place like this in Philly.
I kind of feel bad for Speedway because the turn outs have been so terrible. Last night in Chicago there were 3 people watching them. They are true veterans though, and play amazingly tight despite the turn out.
The ride from Chicago to here was long, but I got a lot of reading done. I am reading Hunter S. Thompson"s, "Hells Angels". What a beautiful man he was.
My body does not want beers at all, but this is our last night out so I will butt-chug if I have to. I am gonna grab some beers and hang out in the sweet "backstage" area, then maybe go for a walk to see more of "Cleveland". Bottoms up.

July 27, 1:40pm: On the road back to philly. Last night was one of the most amazing times of my life. I don't even know where to begin.
Speedway played to 1 paying customer, but played like kings. I have so much respect for those guys. By the time we loaded out, everyone was already far to drunk to live. We ended up at the house of Jeremy and Lisa, who are friends of the band. They had 2 cases of beer and food waiting for us, and I knew it was going to get out of hand. Billy K (passed out in a garage), Cali, and Johnny couldn't stay up, but Bill Angry, Mike, Jeremy, Lisa and I drank, and sang songs, and listened to music through the night and into this morning. When the sun came up Bill and I sat outside on the porch and talked about his experiences in the Gulph war. I have never talked to a veteran, and I am glad that he was so open to talk about it. That dude deserves nothing but respect.
I chopped a telephone pole with a massive sword, bonged a beer out of a skeleton, drew dicks on Cali, and played slide guitar with a bottle opener loud enough to wake the dead. I watched Mike cover himself in beer while the sun came up over Cleveland. He was so out of hand, I can't believe he lived through it. I will never get that image out of my head: Him wavering on the porch trying to shot-gun his beer at 7am and not getting one ounce of it in his mouth. By the time we left in the morning he wasn't speaking English. I can't sayenough about Jeremy and Lisa. They sure know how to show a couple of assholes a good time, and were two of the most hospitable people I've ever met. I look forward to doing it again with them.
I think we are getting closer to PA. Back to reality. As much as my body needs the rest, I can't even think about going home right now. This weekend has kicked my ass up and down, and I just want to keep going. I know for sure that I will be back. I am gonna work on myself in the meantime, but will be counting the days until I can do it all over again. What a god-damned weekend it's been. . .