| Week 5 (A.K.A. Last Week) – Overview/Summary/Stream of consciousness/Guestimate/Probably-ish/Blah!
Max, Kieran and Johnny spent the week in The Lip Studios doing vocals with Tom, the on the ball, good fun, laid back and patient engineer. We sang and sang and sang and said lots of things and laughed at those things and ate celery and hummus and had subs from Lenny's Sub Shop and wore pants and socks and smiles and our hearts on our sleeves and on our cuffs and in our underpants and waited patiently to go home.
Also ate Indian food...paneer, lentils, chicken done in all manner of ways, garlic naan and mango lassis. Chris Brown popped into the studio to punch us all in the face because we were doing really bad Barbadian accents saying things like “me's soooo haarny raaaight now...ya get me!” He felt apologetic so he did a little dance for us which featured the box splits, which he realised he couldn't do half way through. His groin fell off and his balls rolled across the floor. It took a little while to warm to him but that went some way towards us feeling better about him and then he did this amazing thing where he forced himself to get a nosebleed by swallowing his tongue....This is complete nonsense and stupid and we wouldn't like it if someone wrote this kind of thing about us so we'll move on...Max finally got his hair cut in Goolsby's. He asked for a mohawk and instead received what looks like a 1930's mental hospital do. Fair enough. Can't walk into an old barbers asking for rubbish like mohawks and expect to look like anything other than an extra from “Oh brother where art thou.”
Parrish asked us to do an acoustic gig in his bar on Thursday night in exchange for some form of bar tab. He knows how to make us weak and how to make us say yes, yeah, sure, GREAT, ABSOLUTELY and WHEN, FOR HOW LONG, SHOULD I WEAR MY HAIR LIKE THIS, DOES OUR BUM LOOK BIG IN THIS and TRY AND STOP US!!! We decided to do a Lady Gaga thing on it but with our limited wardrobe it came across a bit 40 coats/Worzel Gummidge /5 and dime/Sex At The City and Beverly Hills Cop 3. Kieran had two tube socks hanging from his ears with a large chunk of wasabi on the tip of his nose and all he had to cover his modesty was a yellow rubber glove...he did wear shoes of course. You can't walk around in this weather without shoes. You get a cold or something that way. It was kind of a Sex Mog look, like John Candy in Spaceballs, except with more flesh and spicy green Japanese paste. As it turned out, the glove caused a bit of a rash and he had to be rushed to Walmart to buy a new one.....and actually a bit later than that was taken to hospital. Rubber gloves seem like they keep you clean but it depends where you put them really. Johnny put the glass slipper he had found at the ball the night before on his private part. A move he adopted from a famous pal who said it was all the rage in L.A.in the 80's, while Schwarzenegger was still a snot-nosed, big-titted, mongo-impersonating thespian and not the Guvnor...Johnny also featured a beautiful hat made out of wet paper towels. A kind of malleable papier mache number that went from being shaped like a delicate swan to a thing that looked kind of like old wet paper towels smushed onto his head by the end of the night...who cares it was cool. He also wore a wife beater with BBQ sauce stains and the nipples cut out and cucumbers on his eyes, although I think he just forgot to take them off before leaving the house and we all spent a good few hours licking M&M's and sticking them all over his legs. It looked amazing, like sweet sweet chicken pox, but a hungry crowd meant Johnny ended up cold and bare-legged by the time he got off stage. So bloody rude, nibbling on his legs while he was singing...it tickled and he giggled during so many songs I thought he was going to wee himself.
Max went all plastic bags on it. We had collected somewhere near 470 plastic bags from the shopping we had done in Walmart and Kroger's. They don't recycle, they don't charge for bags, they want to pollute and kill everything but they did provide Max with a sweet dress so.....whatever.com! A ball gown, a ball gown...A BALL GOWN!!! Sooooooo exciting. Max, you WILL go to the ball. He looked like a bride at a traveller's wedding, all meringue poofs, and shoulder poofs and plastic elbow length gloves with poofs and his nails were all like 2 inches long with little diamonds on them and his tiara was made of broken glass, crushed Doritos and glue and he even went so far as to build a bonfire and stand beside it for an hour so he could get that smokey cream cracker scent that's so popular with “the Community” and his skin was bright orange but only cos he'd been eating, snorting and rubbing Cheetos into, at and on to himself for the last four weeks and he cut the toes off his Nikes Air Max's so he could go all sexy open-toe and whatever and ....anyway, he looked like a million Columbian Pesos, which is about 530 dollars.
Lady Gag-Reflex would have been proud of the boys. Anyway, we were so popular that Parrish asked us to do a second set until closing time.....we sang the same three songs fourteen times and as far as we were concerned we were incredible. Who knows, maybe it wasn't even us playing and we were watching another better band performing and our boozy bar tab heads thought differently...anyways, drinks were had, discos were went to, Old Dirty Bastard impersonators were met, a giant Polynesian chap ate all our Oreos and then fell asleep on the couch...he really was the size of a bear, a whale, a hairy bear whale that can breathe under water but also roars like a mountain beast and eats cookies and had played for Ole Miss's football team back in the day. Lets see, what else happened? Drenga...a drinking game made out of Jenga. Each wooden piece had a simple instruction handwritten on it. RULE MAKER – the person with that piece had to make a rule. Break the rule and you drink. One popular rule was speak with your teeth clenched. THUMB MASTER – when the thumb master puts his/her thumb on the table everyone else has to. Last one to do so drinks. DICKS – all the guys drink. WHORES – all the girls drink. SOCIALIZE – everyone drinks and other drinky things and ting. We were introduced to the “Cheese Wall.” Not enough time to explain but it's so beautiful. Like staring at the sun kind of. We did our 90's medley for 4 hours straight. Some guy wanted to sing a song so when we said, “yeah, man brilliant, we'd love for you to sing a song,” he went out to his car and brought in two expensive guitars with state of the art tuning equipment and capos and even had a harmonica helmet/neck brace and proceeded to sing and blow his face off for a long long time. Can't remember if it was any good but the equipment looked expensive so it's safe to presume he sounded expensive too...probably.
We thought seeing as our flight was really really early the next day we'd stay up through the night and pack while maybe having a beer or two or some shots of bull hormones or sniff cheese or snort lines of William Faulkner like “All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible. ” and maybe “A mule will labor ten years willingly and patiently for you, for the privilege of kicking you once.” As it turns out early was really 7pm so we read a lot of Faulkner and sniffed a lot of cheese and managed to pack all our big clothes into our little bags and, feeling a little worse for wear, decided to go to Burger King where the chef seemingly boiled all our burgers in hot water, such was the awful steamy dampness of the beef we were served. Kieran coined the term “Wet Death” to describe just how slimy, humid and insulting the whoppers were. We were made sad by that but the airport beckoned and we were closer to home. A blurry visit to Walmart for hot sauce and wife beaters and Ole Miss Rebels memorabilia and lady's hunting shorts and lacrosse sticks and fried chicken flavoured heartburn tablets and see-through plastic assless chaps and maybe some second hand Tostitos with cheese dip and we were on the road to Memphis International Airport.
Blah blah blah yakedy shmakedy... we were on the plane. Two flights, 4 films and two weird meals later and we were back in Dublin. The End. This blog will resume when we return to Oxford for more writing, recording, laughing, sitting a lot, speaking with bad southern accents, making more friends and keeping the ones we made, playing gigs, eating hot sauce, making up stories and writing them in blogs, writing the truth in blogs but making it sound so ridiculous it couldn't possibly be true and generally trying to forge a path to pop success via the eternal beauty of music or some other cac. See you then...Yaw'll!
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