Much to say, much to say, but for now, I will be
curt. With 1500 miles to cover in less than 2 days,
and a good high energy show working our brains like
trucker uppers, we decided to drive through the
evening. I took the first shift out of Houston,
which began with a rousing game of "Name that
Bloke" (any guesses?), continued with London
Calling (up there with Graceland in the pantheon of
road-trip albums) and horrific rest stop coffee.
Then I crawled into the back seat for a cat nap
and woke up to Bad Religion screaming "Fuck
Armaggedon, This is Hell." Definately the theme
song for this drive, I'll tell you that much. Let it
be known: Texas is too big. I'm putting it on the
Atkin's diet. They've got the meat to do it too.
I'll post about the last Art Brut show soon when
I've got my wits about me and a little Denny's in
the tummy. For now, someone pass me some beef
jerky and slap me. Nah. Just slap me with beef
jerky. That's better.