Here we are at The Hole in Clovis, NM.
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Hey people. I forgot to mention in that last blog that I have a play running soon in Hollywood. Yes, I said it, Hollywood. A play in Hollywood? Do such things exist? Yes they do, thank you. But hardly anybody attends, they're too buys meeting or trying to become famous people. Which, quite frankly, I don't really have a problem with that. Surprise surprise. I just wished they'd pack up their little makeup cases, stick their buffed arms and legs into some clothes and go see my nice little play about funny, yet darkly depressed clowns at the Complex Theater Building.
Here is where you can get info: www.fourclowns.com Even In Blackouts will be playing the opening night. It's kind of pricey, but hopefully we will make it worth it. There is only room for about 50 so it will be a fun cosey experience.
By the way, I'm a Reverend now. I conducted a wedding last week, and boy I felt somewhat special.
And so it goes...
John Jughead
Here is where you can get info: www.fourclowns.com Even In Blackouts will be playing the opening night. It's kind of pricey, but hopefully we will make it worth it. There is only room for about 50 so it will be a fun cosey experience.
By the way, I'm a Reverend now. I conducted a wedding last week, and boy I felt somewhat special.
And so it goes...
John Jughead
Well there people of Blackoutville. Were you wondering if your fellow villagers in the band known as EIB had all died off secretly? Well... no! We are all fine and dandy. We have been each individually trying to keep afloat in these hard economic times. We often forget that lives need maintenance. And some lives need higher maintenance than others, if you know what I mean... Do you? Because quite frankly, I’m not too sure what I mean.
Anycow, and now on to some business:
We are starting a tour! Yeah (cough, cough, I’m getting old). We leave the windy city of Chicago on July 1st and we head South West. Ya’ know where the summers are nice and cool, and we sell plenty of hoodies. (I’m joking.) But we are touring the South, I was just joking about the weather conditions. Weather, now that is a funny topic. Remember that friends. Whenever your conversations are geting boring talk about the weather, with a humorous edge. That will floor anybody still breathing. So what was I talking about? Wait a minute. I’m going to pause for a moment and read back what I wrote, so that I can remember where I am. You wait here. (pause) Ok, now I remember. We are going on tour! You can find accurate information about the shows at our “shows” section on our site: www.eveninblackouts.com
Here is some more news. Knock Knock Records has kindly agreed to put out a limited edition of our new record Zeitgeist’s Echo. We will hopefully have it in our hands about the second week of the tour. I think we will be in the midst of the land of Texas, where everything is big, even the cockroaches (that’s not spelled right, is it?) The official release party will be in Chicago on Sunday August 1st. And I’m sure we will have some kind of prizes and raffles. (I just made that up. But I said it, so now it will have to happen. Prizes will be purchased and given away for free!) Boy o boy why do I even open my metaphorical mouth. I should just keep my hands shut.
We will also be touring Europe in October. This is pending based on our ability to get plane tickets that we can afford.
I think I will have more to say soon, so keep your eye on the bloggity blogg, I may get in some feisty moods soon.
I miss all of you, some more than others, but... you know who you are. Or do you?
thanks
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
Anycow, and now on to some business:
We are starting a tour! Yeah (cough, cough, I’m getting old). We leave the windy city of Chicago on July 1st and we head South West. Ya’ know where the summers are nice and cool, and we sell plenty of hoodies. (I’m joking.) But we are touring the South, I was just joking about the weather conditions. Weather, now that is a funny topic. Remember that friends. Whenever your conversations are geting boring talk about the weather, with a humorous edge. That will floor anybody still breathing. So what was I talking about? Wait a minute. I’m going to pause for a moment and read back what I wrote, so that I can remember where I am. You wait here. (pause) Ok, now I remember. We are going on tour! You can find accurate information about the shows at our “shows” section on our site: www.eveninblackouts.com
Here is some more news. Knock Knock Records has kindly agreed to put out a limited edition of our new record Zeitgeist’s Echo. We will hopefully have it in our hands about the second week of the tour. I think we will be in the midst of the land of Texas, where everything is big, even the cockroaches (that’s not spelled right, is it?) The official release party will be in Chicago on Sunday August 1st. And I’m sure we will have some kind of prizes and raffles. (I just made that up. But I said it, so now it will have to happen. Prizes will be purchased and given away for free!) Boy o boy why do I even open my metaphorical mouth. I should just keep my hands shut.
We will also be touring Europe in October. This is pending based on our ability to get plane tickets that we can afford.
I think I will have more to say soon, so keep your eye on the bloggity blogg, I may get in some feisty moods soon.
I miss all of you, some more than others, but... you know who you are. Or do you?
thanks
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their target's sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their target's sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting in from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
There's an interesting side story which John left out of his journal entry.
Lets call that story "THE KEY". I called John on the day he left for New York, hoping to catch him before he went to the airport. I was to late, and only got his voicemail. I assumed that he had remembered to leave the key to his house where ALL our equiptment was...afterall, how could we go on tour without it ? So, I left John a voicemail saying "I'm sure you remembered to leave a key. Where is it?" It was an hour or so later when I got a call from John who was fresh off his flight to NY..."I have the key right here, I'll Fed-Ex it back to Chicago today." Here's where things get interesting. The key was to show up on the 25th, tour was to start on the 26th. The key never showed up...well, it did...but it showed up sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 pm on the 25th, and was locked up in the office at our apartment building. Needless to say, I was unaware of its presence. So, long story short...John calls over to Mr. X (again, as in Johns post, no need for secrecy, but in this case it seems fun to use an alias) who lives in the house where all our stuff is at and informs him of the situation.
He lets John know that he leaves for work at 8:30am so we need to come before that to load the van. This is fine of course, as we definitely need our gear. So I wake up around 7:30, as does Liz who is meeting me at the house. I get there early and bring all the gear outside, Liz shows up, we load the van and leave. Now, it's only 9:00 am and we don't have to leave for the show until noon. So we go back to my apartment to rest up. Of course I check my mail when we get back, and sure enough (cue dramatic music) THE KEY has arrived. At this point it really did not matter that it had come, but it was nice to know that it was there...just a little to late.
Ok, that's the story of the key.
On the way to the show Liz and I spent 6 hours singing in the van. Listened to a lot of Prince, and I did my kick ass sing-a-long to the soundtrack of Little Shop of Horrors.
Anyway, we're getting ready to head to Jersey City for night 6 of the tour. Things have been going really well...I'm done typing now. Bye.
Lets call that story "THE KEY". I called John on the day he left for New York, hoping to catch him before he went to the airport. I was to late, and only got his voicemail. I assumed that he had remembered to leave the key to his house where ALL our equiptment was...afterall, how could we go on tour without it ? So, I left John a voicemail saying "I'm sure you remembered to leave a key. Where is it?" It was an hour or so later when I got a call from John who was fresh off his flight to NY..."I have the key right here, I'll Fed-Ex it back to Chicago today." Here's where things get interesting. The key was to show up on the 25th, tour was to start on the 26th. The key never showed up...well, it did...but it showed up sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 pm on the 25th, and was locked up in the office at our apartment building. Needless to say, I was unaware of its presence. So, long story short...John calls over to Mr. X (again, as in Johns post, no need for secrecy, but in this case it seems fun to use an alias) who lives in the house where all our stuff is at and informs him of the situation.
He lets John know that he leaves for work at 8:30am so we need to come before that to load the van. This is fine of course, as we definitely need our gear. So I wake up around 7:30, as does Liz who is meeting me at the house. I get there early and bring all the gear outside, Liz shows up, we load the van and leave. Now, it's only 9:00 am and we don't have to leave for the show until noon. So we go back to my apartment to rest up. Of course I check my mail when we get back, and sure enough (cue dramatic music) THE KEY has arrived. At this point it really did not matter that it had come, but it was nice to know that it was there...just a little to late.
Ok, that's the story of the key.
On the way to the show Liz and I spent 6 hours singing in the van. Listened to a lot of Prince, and I did my kick ass sing-a-long to the soundtrack of Little Shop of Horrors.
Anyway, we're getting ready to head to Jersey City for night 6 of the tour. Things have been going really well...I'm done typing now. Bye.
Monday, March 01, 2004
So, I’m at home in Chicago, I hop a plane to New York. I stay there for a few days with a friend. Sounds fairly normal, and not quite worthy of writing about. And yet the events that followed slowly folded into a complicated paper oragami with three heads staring in four different directions.
I went to New York to pick up Bice, our drummer, who happens to live in Boston, to start our tour in Cleveland. Pick him up in what? Why New York if he lives in Boston? And why does a Chicago based band start a tour in Cleveland? Where the hell is the rest of the band, Lizzie and the Brother’s Lipman? These are some rather intricate questions, that I am proposing that you may be asking. I really don’t feel like answering them. So let’s see what comes out:
Dan-e is back in school in Detroit, Tuesday thru Thursday. Lizzie lives on the south side of Chicago, another world for north siders like me and Brad (Brad now lives ten steps away from me, right below my living room. Yet, I still talk to him more by cell phone and e-mail than face to face conversation. That’s rather odd.) Bice is in Boston, but he has informed me that he is embarking on a pilgrimage to California, so I’m sure our situation will get even more perplexing. The tour was put together fairly last minute. We didn’t know Dan-e’s school schedule early enough to prepare. But Brad and I fumbled through a self booked tour that was being booked as we spoke on our cell phones feet from each other in the beginning and then one thousand miles apart a few days before the departure date.
I am helping to form a new Neo-Futurist theater company in Brooklyn, so I have been visiting this area periodically and am now planning on spending more time there in upcoming months, to finish my Weasel’s In A Box novel and to help promote the new Ensemble. So since I was looking for excuses to get out of Dodge (Chicago) and back to the OK Corral (NYC), I decided to find a way to pick up Bice for the upcoming tour wether in Boston or somwhere East. He could have flown out to Chicago, like he has done in the past, but we had a horrible episode last time wherein UPS lost his drums for a month and a half. Those drums went from Chicago, to Boston, down the street from his house before the tag fell off and the ups deliverer couldn’t figure out where the package was to go. I don’t know why they didn’t look on the floor of the truck for a lost tag, but they didn’t. So the drums went to a home office in St. Louis. Why St Louis? I have no fucking clue. Bice called a friend, who’s father is “high up” in the UPS corporation. They tracked down his drums after they had been shipped yet again to, get this, the manufacturer of the drum cases somewhere in Montana or Wyoming. They were tucked away on some high shelf just like the holy commandments in Raiders Of The Lost Arc. UPS picked them back up and finally shipped them to Boston. We decided to avoid another UPS fiasco.
Being the bright boy that I am, I told Bice to meet me in New York with his drums. I would drive out with the van, pick him up in NYC (He would get a ride there from his girlfriend Mauree, since they both enjoy visiting NYC anyway. They stay with a pair of friends in Brooklyn, let’s just call them DD and Abagail. there is no reason for secrecy I just can’t remember their names right now. They have an English Bulldog. Strange animal. Its astounding ugliness is sublimely cute.), and then we would drive back to Chicago just in time to load the equipment and the band mates and head out to Ohio. And of course I had my own sub reasons for wanting to go back to NYC, speaking of which I may be looking for a second home in Brooklyn or NYC, so if you know of any place to rent just let me know. My hope is to get a place that can match my already low rent of 500 in Chicago, so that I can manage a thousand a month. Wish me luck.
Bice thought this pick up plan was exciting in conception, yet somehow idiotic in its possible actualization. I agreed, and thought that that was enough justification to put the plan into action. Bice laughed at me, and then I laughed at him laughing at me. He then said, “why don’t we just leave on tour from New York instead of driving 12 hours back to Chicago?” It was a pretty good idea as long as we were both ok with the idea of Brad and Lizzie walking to Ohio from Chicago.
His hesitation was worthy of some more thought. It did seem somewhat stupid to tire ourselves out driving before the tour even started. So I elaborated and adjusted his idea to make it make sense in my head. I bought a one way plane ticket to NYC spent two days with my friend, met Bice and Mauree in a bar, stayed at the bulldog’s house for one night and then picked up a budget rent-a-car at Le Guardia Airport, loaded Bice’s drums from Maria’s car to the rental, and we took off for a 7 hour drive to Olmstead Ohio where we dropped off the car and met the rest of the band. Brad and Lizzie loaded the van and left Chicago at 10am and arrived in Olmstead Ohio 2 minutes before us. That was amazing timing, which we owe none of it to precise planning. Randomness was our saviour. Dan-e’s ride from Detroit to Olmstead Ohio fell through. So he called a taxi service. They quoted him at 300 bucks. Not a good idea. One of the band’s favorite friends, Shannon, received a phone call from the aforementioned Dan-e mere moments before he had to leave. Shannon was up for the adventure and agreed to drive him. We descended on Ohio and won a small battle.
And where was our next show, you ask? Why New York of course.
That’s if for now. Liz has just informed me that my food is getting cold. Which is actually kind of funny since I ordered a salad.
John Jughead
Even In Blackouts
I went to New York to pick up Bice, our drummer, who happens to live in Boston, to start our tour in Cleveland. Pick him up in what? Why New York if he lives in Boston? And why does a Chicago based band start a tour in Cleveland? Where the hell is the rest of the band, Lizzie and the Brother’s Lipman? These are some rather intricate questions, that I am proposing that you may be asking. I really don’t feel like answering them. So let’s see what comes out:
Dan-e is back in school in Detroit, Tuesday thru Thursday. Lizzie lives on the south side of Chicago, another world for north siders like me and Brad (Brad now lives ten steps away from me, right below my living room. Yet, I still talk to him more by cell phone and e-mail than face to face conversation. That’s rather odd.) Bice is in Boston, but he has informed me that he is embarking on a pilgrimage to California, so I’m sure our situation will get even more perplexing. The tour was put together fairly last minute. We didn’t know Dan-e’s school schedule early enough to prepare. But Brad and I fumbled through a self booked tour that was being booked as we spoke on our cell phones feet from each other in the beginning and then one thousand miles apart a few days before the departure date.
I am helping to form a new Neo-Futurist theater company in Brooklyn, so I have been visiting this area periodically and am now planning on spending more time there in upcoming months, to finish my Weasel’s In A Box novel and to help promote the new Ensemble. So since I was looking for excuses to get out of Dodge (Chicago) and back to the OK Corral (NYC), I decided to find a way to pick up Bice for the upcoming tour wether in Boston or somwhere East. He could have flown out to Chicago, like he has done in the past, but we had a horrible episode last time wherein UPS lost his drums for a month and a half. Those drums went from Chicago, to Boston, down the street from his house before the tag fell off and the ups deliverer couldn’t figure out where the package was to go. I don’t know why they didn’t look on the floor of the truck for a lost tag, but they didn’t. So the drums went to a home office in St. Louis. Why St Louis? I have no fucking clue. Bice called a friend, who’s father is “high up” in the UPS corporation. They tracked down his drums after they had been shipped yet again to, get this, the manufacturer of the drum cases somewhere in Montana or Wyoming. They were tucked away on some high shelf just like the holy commandments in Raiders Of The Lost Arc. UPS picked them back up and finally shipped them to Boston. We decided to avoid another UPS fiasco.
Being the bright boy that I am, I told Bice to meet me in New York with his drums. I would drive out with the van, pick him up in NYC (He would get a ride there from his girlfriend Mauree, since they both enjoy visiting NYC anyway. They stay with a pair of friends in Brooklyn, let’s just call them DD and Abagail. there is no reason for secrecy I just can’t remember their names right now. They have an English Bulldog. Strange animal. Its astounding ugliness is sublimely cute.), and then we would drive back to Chicago just in time to load the equipment and the band mates and head out to Ohio. And of course I had my own sub reasons for wanting to go back to NYC, speaking of which I may be looking for a second home in Brooklyn or NYC, so if you know of any place to rent just let me know. My hope is to get a place that can match my already low rent of 500 in Chicago, so that I can manage a thousand a month. Wish me luck.
Bice thought this pick up plan was exciting in conception, yet somehow idiotic in its possible actualization. I agreed, and thought that that was enough justification to put the plan into action. Bice laughed at me, and then I laughed at him laughing at me. He then said, “why don’t we just leave on tour from New York instead of driving 12 hours back to Chicago?” It was a pretty good idea as long as we were both ok with the idea of Brad and Lizzie walking to Ohio from Chicago.
His hesitation was worthy of some more thought. It did seem somewhat stupid to tire ourselves out driving before the tour even started. So I elaborated and adjusted his idea to make it make sense in my head. I bought a one way plane ticket to NYC spent two days with my friend, met Bice and Mauree in a bar, stayed at the bulldog’s house for one night and then picked up a budget rent-a-car at Le Guardia Airport, loaded Bice’s drums from Maria’s car to the rental, and we took off for a 7 hour drive to Olmstead Ohio where we dropped off the car and met the rest of the band. Brad and Lizzie loaded the van and left Chicago at 10am and arrived in Olmstead Ohio 2 minutes before us. That was amazing timing, which we owe none of it to precise planning. Randomness was our saviour. Dan-e’s ride from Detroit to Olmstead Ohio fell through. So he called a taxi service. They quoted him at 300 bucks. Not a good idea. One of the band’s favorite friends, Shannon, received a phone call from the aforementioned Dan-e mere moments before he had to leave. Shannon was up for the adventure and agreed to drive him. We descended on Ohio and won a small battle.
And where was our next show, you ask? Why New York of course.
That’s if for now. Liz has just informed me that my food is getting cold. Which is actually kind of funny since I ordered a salad.
John Jughead
Even In Blackouts
Saturday, February 28, 2004
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Hello, I have risen from inactive life of blogger with nothing on my mind but plenty of time and the late night cafeine high. There must be something to say, we haven't written since our last tour... I think it was the first day of our last tour. My God! Where is my muse? Some one stole our muse and replaced it with blank stares? 5 4 3 2 1
Why in the Hell can't we get our godamn new record out!! What is up with labels these days? You get nothing but good reviews, you come from a prior band that is constanly toted as being "legendary". You are told your new band is unique. You have a beautiful singer with a great voice. You tour ALL the fucking time. Do you have to do everything yourself? I have this pain right here... between my eyes. I am getting tired of hearing myself complain. My brain is on the verge of storming out of my head, slamming my eyelids on the way out and catching a taxi to the nearest train station. Oh sweet oblivion, how you toy with me so.
I think the major labels are too busy creating their own bands, and independents don't really exist anymore. (side note: You are not really independent if your small label is distributed by a company owned by a major corporation) The few that actually are independent can't get distributors to take their records, and on the off chance they do take them, they don't see any money for months if at all. Good people can only pull money out of their own back pockets while they are wearing pants. All my friends are running around pantless. Moving forward as if they have not come to the part of their dream where they realize they are in their underwear, and are ashamed and forced to hide. And all the other labels are either unknown to us, or are on the edge of bankruptcy and can only invest in "sure things". My life is spent avoiding the "sure thing." Some would say I have dug my own grave. So be it! It's a beautiful grave. I shall dance on it every night. I'm dancing now! I dare you to knock me off this grave!
Oh by the way, we leave on tour again soon. And you know what. I love it! I discovered a couple weeks ago when I was in New York that I can enjoy watching others but I can't warm up to performing Karaoke. Why do I need such a thing? Oh it's fun to sit in a small room on a Korean ave penthouse suite, with a tambourine and a large book with pages and pages of "hits" Greenday for fuck sake. How idiotic it would have been for me to sing Billie's songs. But I enjoyed watching my friends getting their moment to sing in a crowd. And yet I felt like I was missing something by having what they could only pretend to have in a small room in front of friends. Singing their hearts out. And no one cared if you were bad, "ya gotta sell it, man." It was fun. It was sad. The stage. When am I ever just going to be an audience? Never. So why not enjoy my stage? No reason. I love it! I want to play forever. So let's add instruments to my grave side, I bend down every once in awhile pausing from my dance to pick up a ukulele or a guitar. That's death for you, my friends. That is how I continuously end throughout infinity.
I'll see you soon.
John Jughead Pierson
Why in the Hell can't we get our godamn new record out!! What is up with labels these days? You get nothing but good reviews, you come from a prior band that is constanly toted as being "legendary". You are told your new band is unique. You have a beautiful singer with a great voice. You tour ALL the fucking time. Do you have to do everything yourself? I have this pain right here... between my eyes. I am getting tired of hearing myself complain. My brain is on the verge of storming out of my head, slamming my eyelids on the way out and catching a taxi to the nearest train station. Oh sweet oblivion, how you toy with me so.
I think the major labels are too busy creating their own bands, and independents don't really exist anymore. (side note: You are not really independent if your small label is distributed by a company owned by a major corporation) The few that actually are independent can't get distributors to take their records, and on the off chance they do take them, they don't see any money for months if at all. Good people can only pull money out of their own back pockets while they are wearing pants. All my friends are running around pantless. Moving forward as if they have not come to the part of their dream where they realize they are in their underwear, and are ashamed and forced to hide. And all the other labels are either unknown to us, or are on the edge of bankruptcy and can only invest in "sure things". My life is spent avoiding the "sure thing." Some would say I have dug my own grave. So be it! It's a beautiful grave. I shall dance on it every night. I'm dancing now! I dare you to knock me off this grave!
Oh by the way, we leave on tour again soon. And you know what. I love it! I discovered a couple weeks ago when I was in New York that I can enjoy watching others but I can't warm up to performing Karaoke. Why do I need such a thing? Oh it's fun to sit in a small room on a Korean ave penthouse suite, with a tambourine and a large book with pages and pages of "hits" Greenday for fuck sake. How idiotic it would have been for me to sing Billie's songs. But I enjoyed watching my friends getting their moment to sing in a crowd. And yet I felt like I was missing something by having what they could only pretend to have in a small room in front of friends. Singing their hearts out. And no one cared if you were bad, "ya gotta sell it, man." It was fun. It was sad. The stage. When am I ever just going to be an audience? Never. So why not enjoy my stage? No reason. I love it! I want to play forever. So let's add instruments to my grave side, I bend down every once in awhile pausing from my dance to pick up a ukulele or a guitar. That's death for you, my friends. That is how I continuously end throughout infinity.
I'll see you soon.
John Jughead Pierson
Sunday, November 16, 2003
Hello folks. Things are well in Blackoutville. Thanks to all the kindered spirits whom have come to witness the destruction of our instruments and have brought gifts of the edible nature.
Fact: We've learned a lot about saliva on this tour.
Fact: Expired plates = $75 ticket
Fact: Speeding = $75 ticket
Fact: $150 combined ticket total after being on tour for 3 hours is not good.
Fact: The Davinci Code is a fantastic book.
Fact: The onion rings at Sams Burger Joint in San Antonio could be worn as necklaces.
Fact: People with air hockey tables also have books about Salvador Dali.
Fact: The Alamo closes at 5:30
Fact: Relatives dying does not justify the throwing of object (liquid or solid)
Fact: A mesa is not a drive, is not a scenic, is not an avenue, is not a heights, is not a carmel country, is not a carmel valley.
Fact: Hollywood is not all it's cracked up to be, and the hollywood sign is hard to see when it is not lit up...take a hint from us, Glow-In-the-Dark is efficient.
Fact: Golf carts are a constant source of entertainment.
Question: Is a golf cart still a golf cart when it's on a ranch?
Enough with the facts. And now on to your lives.
Here's some real brain candy for you...
We will be having a cd release extravaganza at the Bottom Lounge in Chicago on December 6th with Amazing Transparent Man. It will be a good time.
We are also working on a few other scattered shows for late December.
That's it for now,
Your friends in acousticness (Brad, Jonny, and Lizzie)
Fact: We've learned a lot about saliva on this tour.
Fact: Expired plates = $75 ticket
Fact: Speeding = $75 ticket
Fact: $150 combined ticket total after being on tour for 3 hours is not good.
Fact: The Davinci Code is a fantastic book.
Fact: The onion rings at Sams Burger Joint in San Antonio could be worn as necklaces.
Fact: People with air hockey tables also have books about Salvador Dali.
Fact: The Alamo closes at 5:30
Fact: Relatives dying does not justify the throwing of object (liquid or solid)
Fact: A mesa is not a drive, is not a scenic, is not an avenue, is not a heights, is not a carmel country, is not a carmel valley.
Fact: Hollywood is not all it's cracked up to be, and the hollywood sign is hard to see when it is not lit up...take a hint from us, Glow-In-the-Dark is efficient.
Fact: Golf carts are a constant source of entertainment.
Question: Is a golf cart still a golf cart when it's on a ranch?
Enough with the facts. And now on to your lives.
Here's some real brain candy for you...
We will be having a cd release extravaganza at the Bottom Lounge in Chicago on December 6th with Amazing Transparent Man. It will be a good time.
We are also working on a few other scattered shows for late December.
That's it for now,
Your friends in acousticness (Brad, Jonny, and Lizzie)
Saturday, October 11, 2003
Hello gang. It has been a sick year for me, your little Jughead. I have had bronchitis and a horrendous stomach flu. Well, that's enough about me.
Even In Blackouts is less than a month away from embarking on their fourth USA tour. This time they are taking on the Southwestern and the North western territories in a matter of less than three weeks. This I have to see for myself, so... I'm going. All the dates but 2 are now posted on the show page of our site: www.eveninblackouts.com
We have a cdep coming out soon, to accompany our tour. The official release date is November 11th. This may change due to unforeseen circumstances. Circumstances that we can see don't seem to be affecting anything... except for what those circumstances have already affected... of which we are currently aware. Then you may ask, "What about past circumstances affecting the present and the future that we are aware of but can't do anything about?" Well, my answer is, "Yes." And then you say, "Excuse me? That doesn't answer my question at all." And then I punch you in the nose and run away with your wallet.
This cdep is called, Foreshadows On The Wall, and it is being released by Knock Knock Records: www.knockknockrecords.com It has six songs. Three originals and three covers. We had a few friends join in: Dan Vapid (Methadones, Screeching Weasel, Riverdales), Sam Perry (A guy that lives in the Sourthern California Hills), Rachel Claff and Noelle Krimm (of The Neo-Futurists).
The booklet and tray card glow in the dark. And the first fifty people to order it from Interpunk get an autographed magic light bulb. The next fifty people get a limited edition poster of the band with glow in the dark screened autographs. Watch www.interpunk.com for details. I don't know when they are starting presales, but I expect these to go pretty fast. The glow in the dark cdep is limited to 2,000. Further editions will not glow, unless you start them on fire.
That is it for now.
See you in the funny pages.
John Jughead Pierson
Even In Blackouts is less than a month away from embarking on their fourth USA tour. This time they are taking on the Southwestern and the North western territories in a matter of less than three weeks. This I have to see for myself, so... I'm going. All the dates but 2 are now posted on the show page of our site: www.eveninblackouts.com
We have a cdep coming out soon, to accompany our tour. The official release date is November 11th. This may change due to unforeseen circumstances. Circumstances that we can see don't seem to be affecting anything... except for what those circumstances have already affected... of which we are currently aware. Then you may ask, "What about past circumstances affecting the present and the future that we are aware of but can't do anything about?" Well, my answer is, "Yes." And then you say, "Excuse me? That doesn't answer my question at all." And then I punch you in the nose and run away with your wallet.
This cdep is called, Foreshadows On The Wall, and it is being released by Knock Knock Records: www.knockknockrecords.com It has six songs. Three originals and three covers. We had a few friends join in: Dan Vapid (Methadones, Screeching Weasel, Riverdales), Sam Perry (A guy that lives in the Sourthern California Hills), Rachel Claff and Noelle Krimm (of The Neo-Futurists).
The booklet and tray card glow in the dark. And the first fifty people to order it from Interpunk get an autographed magic light bulb. The next fifty people get a limited edition poster of the band with glow in the dark screened autographs. Watch www.interpunk.com for details. I don't know when they are starting presales, but I expect these to go pretty fast. The glow in the dark cdep is limited to 2,000. Further editions will not glow, unless you start them on fire.
That is it for now.
See you in the funny pages.
John Jughead Pierson
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Hey Folks... Dizzy... Headache... Breathing still... I think.
Yes, something is afoot with John. On the last days of the tour I was lucky enough to contract Bronchitis! The nice Asian (Homosexual?) Doctor at the local clinic says I probably got it from a dirty payphone or a passing stranger in mid cough. However transported to my lungs, I wish it would go away. But there is something attractive about sickness, something in us that prides itself on surviving, something that enjoys being helpless, something that enjoys seeing the world through a fish tank taped to the forehead. Personally I enjoy the cold sweat, the sitting up in bed so that I can breathe and the stumbling down to the post office unshaven and half dressed. I enjoy the bumbing of my shoulders on door frames.
I have been given medicine by my kind Asian (Homosexual?) Doctor from the local clinic: BIAXIN XL 500MG TABLETS and PSEUDOVENT PED ERCAPSULES. One of these pills steals all saliva from my mouth and replaces it with what I am beginning to think is some sort of flavorful metalic feces (shit). One of them, I have suspicions, is nurishing a small man that is standing in the corner of my cranium spinning my brain on its spinal axis with its tiny hands. This treatment is suppose to make me better within a six day period. I just hope I'm still me when it's finished, and not only a being who recalls memories coldly, from above, and feels as if he has been separated from their physical reality.
So we are on Hiatus! We are looking for possible release options for our close to finished new album called Zeitgeist's Echo. In the mean time we may be releasing a cdep (we are in negotiations) with about six songs. It will be released sometime in the near future by Knock Knock Records, a record label run by a strange little sardonic man who let's you know when you pronounce his name slightly wrong and whom I have grown to rather like. More on this later.
Also we have written and recorded a theme song for a local Comedy troupe known as Schadenfreude. They have a show on WBEZ. You can find info about downloading the episodes at: www.schadenfreude.net
That is all for now, except that Liz lost her voice for awhile and Dan-e broke his foot.
Thanks for listening to a sick man ramble.
Good night sweet princes and princesses
John Bronchitishead Pierson
Yes, something is afoot with John. On the last days of the tour I was lucky enough to contract Bronchitis! The nice Asian (Homosexual?) Doctor at the local clinic says I probably got it from a dirty payphone or a passing stranger in mid cough. However transported to my lungs, I wish it would go away. But there is something attractive about sickness, something in us that prides itself on surviving, something that enjoys being helpless, something that enjoys seeing the world through a fish tank taped to the forehead. Personally I enjoy the cold sweat, the sitting up in bed so that I can breathe and the stumbling down to the post office unshaven and half dressed. I enjoy the bumbing of my shoulders on door frames.
I have been given medicine by my kind Asian (Homosexual?) Doctor from the local clinic: BIAXIN XL 500MG TABLETS and PSEUDOVENT PED ERCAPSULES. One of these pills steals all saliva from my mouth and replaces it with what I am beginning to think is some sort of flavorful metalic feces (shit). One of them, I have suspicions, is nurishing a small man that is standing in the corner of my cranium spinning my brain on its spinal axis with its tiny hands. This treatment is suppose to make me better within a six day period. I just hope I'm still me when it's finished, and not only a being who recalls memories coldly, from above, and feels as if he has been separated from their physical reality.
So we are on Hiatus! We are looking for possible release options for our close to finished new album called Zeitgeist's Echo. In the mean time we may be releasing a cdep (we are in negotiations) with about six songs. It will be released sometime in the near future by Knock Knock Records, a record label run by a strange little sardonic man who let's you know when you pronounce his name slightly wrong and whom I have grown to rather like. More on this later.
Also we have written and recorded a theme song for a local Comedy troupe known as Schadenfreude. They have a show on WBEZ. You can find info about downloading the episodes at: www.schadenfreude.net
That is all for now, except that Liz lost her voice for awhile and Dan-e broke his foot.
Thanks for listening to a sick man ramble.
Good night sweet princes and princesses
John Bronchitishead Pierson
Saturday, July 26, 2003
So, there is this thing called "rain". And it falls from the sky. If you walk outside during this thing called "rain." You get wet. Sometimes (almost most of the time) people carry around these circular objects that you hold above your head. They're waterproof, and they can fold up into a small clothy thing that you can tuck into a purse, or they can fold down into an object resembling a cane. Any way, these things called "umbrellas" stop the "rain" from soaking your clothes.
We don't have one of these.
It rains all the time on this tour.
We often get soaked.
We live out of a van
I dream of wet rats
Gift Editions:
Strawberry Charleston Chews for Brad
A personalized quilt with our logo on it
We are thinking of registering at Bed Bath & Beyond
John Jughead
We don't have one of these.
It rains all the time on this tour.
We often get soaked.
We live out of a van
I dream of wet rats
Gift Editions:
Strawberry Charleston Chews for Brad
A personalized quilt with our logo on it
We are thinking of registering at Bed Bath & Beyond
John Jughead
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Goodbye Northeast, hello Southeast.
Went swimming in the Ocean and had to perform that night with 2 and a half cups of sand in my underwear. I didn't discover the sand until 3 or 4 in the morning while stopping at a rest area. It may have been the reason for my blue mood at the show that night. We spent a day at Interpunk, and played a few songs (acoustic) They bought us wonderful pastries and let us invade their warehouse. I especially liked playing with the static ball in the main office. They have so many toys. They tell us they got all the toys they wanted but couldn't afford when they were little.
Here is a note to anyone who plans on promoting shows:
You must have control of the situation with confidence, and you must be the conduit to which all complaints and suggestions are sifted. You must make decisions and stick with them. You must not tell one band one thing, change your mind and tell another band another thing, and then send the one band over to the other band to "work it out" That is your responsibility. A bad promoter can cause illogical strife between bands. It amazes me how quickly a badly planned evening can spiral into misguided blame and frustration. I am being purposely vague. I am not writing this to blame any venue or any band, or promoter, it is an unwanted situation that has happened more than once, and I would like it to stop. It has made me question my own motives. I would cut my set if need be, I would play whenever, if the change is justified or if my band arrived much much later than the time we were told, I would listen to the final judgement of a promoter. I may decide it is unfair and leave without pay, but I would not disobey what a confident promoter decides. And sadly some of this rationality disappears and I do not have full access to my patients when face to face with disorganization.
Anyway, we are now in Spartansburg watching Ed, Ed and Eddie, one of the many "strange" cartoons animating the airwaves.
Mass' bass stopped working, Dan-e has countless cuts on his hands from acoustic strings. My fingers throb all night. Brad has knocked a hole in his bass and his sleeping bag jumped from the van when I opened the door this eveing and it plunged itself into a muddy puddle. I think Liz is fine, but she had a bad day awhile ago. I think she wanted all of us to bury ourselves in the ground and eat dirt. I think she likes us again. That is how tours go, one moment you hate that person sitting next to you day after day and the next moment you want to hug them and protect them from any harm.
John Jughead
Went swimming in the Ocean and had to perform that night with 2 and a half cups of sand in my underwear. I didn't discover the sand until 3 or 4 in the morning while stopping at a rest area. It may have been the reason for my blue mood at the show that night. We spent a day at Interpunk, and played a few songs (acoustic) They bought us wonderful pastries and let us invade their warehouse. I especially liked playing with the static ball in the main office. They have so many toys. They tell us they got all the toys they wanted but couldn't afford when they were little.
Here is a note to anyone who plans on promoting shows:
You must have control of the situation with confidence, and you must be the conduit to which all complaints and suggestions are sifted. You must make decisions and stick with them. You must not tell one band one thing, change your mind and tell another band another thing, and then send the one band over to the other band to "work it out" That is your responsibility. A bad promoter can cause illogical strife between bands. It amazes me how quickly a badly planned evening can spiral into misguided blame and frustration. I am being purposely vague. I am not writing this to blame any venue or any band, or promoter, it is an unwanted situation that has happened more than once, and I would like it to stop. It has made me question my own motives. I would cut my set if need be, I would play whenever, if the change is justified or if my band arrived much much later than the time we were told, I would listen to the final judgement of a promoter. I may decide it is unfair and leave without pay, but I would not disobey what a confident promoter decides. And sadly some of this rationality disappears and I do not have full access to my patients when face to face with disorganization.
Anyway, we are now in Spartansburg watching Ed, Ed and Eddie, one of the many "strange" cartoons animating the airwaves.
Mass' bass stopped working, Dan-e has countless cuts on his hands from acoustic strings. My fingers throb all night. Brad has knocked a hole in his bass and his sleeping bag jumped from the van when I opened the door this eveing and it plunged itself into a muddy puddle. I think Liz is fine, but she had a bad day awhile ago. I think she wanted all of us to bury ourselves in the ground and eat dirt. I think she likes us again. That is how tours go, one moment you hate that person sitting next to you day after day and the next moment you want to hug them and protect them from any harm.
John Jughead
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Boston... Boston... Where the witches are burning, the Kerouac's are roaming, The trancendalists are romping, The Tea is spilling.
We had yet another barely attened show in Boston. That is two tours here so far. We are trying to gain audience members one per tour in MA. I think we are near our goal this time around. Very exciting.
My sister has moved to Boston. One day I picked up my phone, and my sister said "Hi, I'm moving to Boston." I said, "Oh, When?" And she responded, "My Bus leaves in a half hour." That is the way she works. It was good to see her amongst the quarter of a handful of people at the show.
We are off to a bakery to get some food that was kindly offered to us by my sister's roommate. Then we will visit the site of the Boston Tea Party to give Brad a brief history lesson. That is what touring is all about, brief history lessons. Well... that and lack of sleep, carrying heavy objects and avoiding drunks.
We were presented with M&Ms both peanut and plain while we were in Pittsburgh. We are all very greatful to this kind fellow. I hear they were good. I was holding out for the fruit so I did not partake in the eating of the candy. I have to watch my girlish figure.
By the way we would like to add Ketchup flavored potato chips to the gift list. Dan-e can't get those in Chicago.
Wow, this glob, or shplog, or whatever this format is called has turned me into a jello-for-brains. I just have nothing meaningful to say. Perhaps this is a sign of my true colors. Maybe I'm just antother pretty face in a crowd of indifference. (sigh) (grin)
Well folks I will just have to leave you in your very own capable hands. Learn something, build something, question all, and only answer slightly.
John Jughead
We had yet another barely attened show in Boston. That is two tours here so far. We are trying to gain audience members one per tour in MA. I think we are near our goal this time around. Very exciting.
My sister has moved to Boston. One day I picked up my phone, and my sister said "Hi, I'm moving to Boston." I said, "Oh, When?" And she responded, "My Bus leaves in a half hour." That is the way she works. It was good to see her amongst the quarter of a handful of people at the show.
We are off to a bakery to get some food that was kindly offered to us by my sister's roommate. Then we will visit the site of the Boston Tea Party to give Brad a brief history lesson. That is what touring is all about, brief history lessons. Well... that and lack of sleep, carrying heavy objects and avoiding drunks.
We were presented with M&Ms both peanut and plain while we were in Pittsburgh. We are all very greatful to this kind fellow. I hear they were good. I was holding out for the fruit so I did not partake in the eating of the candy. I have to watch my girlish figure.
By the way we would like to add Ketchup flavored potato chips to the gift list. Dan-e can't get those in Chicago.
Wow, this glob, or shplog, or whatever this format is called has turned me into a jello-for-brains. I just have nothing meaningful to say. Perhaps this is a sign of my true colors. Maybe I'm just antother pretty face in a crowd of indifference. (sigh) (grin)
Well folks I will just have to leave you in your very own capable hands. Learn something, build something, question all, and only answer slightly.
John Jughead
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Well... We are fighting the good fight. We are looking at our half empty cup and saying, “Hey, I think it’s actually half full.” And then we all chant, “ooooohhh.” The shows so far have had small attendances, but we always look at this as a challenge. And that’s not just a statement from a cheerleader or a corporate executive. It is an important element of our goal as a band. I had said before we left on the first tour that I didn’t care if we only had a hand full of people, I had known from the past that these can turn out to be some of the best shows, so I wasn’t going to let it disturb us. I can honestly say that every show has been treated as challenge to top ourselves and to never cease improving. This may sound slightly boasting, but I am damn proud of this aspect of Even In Blackouts.
We are in Alabany New York taking a day off that we did not want. We are taking a day off that frankly pisses me off. A band should be able to find a show on a Saturday. Dont you think? Well... for reasons I don’t want to go into, because it may cause my head to pop off and roll down my sleave, Squirtgun, Beatnick Termites and Even In Blackouts are not performing ANYWHERE tonight. So... what did Mass and I say to eachother. “Fuck it man, this sucks let’s call it quits and go home and sleep!” No, that is not what we said. We said, “Let’s go Swimming!”
So Mass and I put our personal money into a pot along with two hotel coupons we found at a Denny’s and got ourselves two kind-of-ok rooms at the Quality Inn. We are eating our free breakfasts and are determined to go swimming by noon. As a matter of fact as I type this the rest of the Blackouts are out there now sitting by the water sipping diet cokes and splashing water in each other’s faces. How I envy them. We are talking about going to a movie this evening, probably the Terminator or that Johnny Depp Pirate Movie.
This isn’t really that exciting to be reporting, but it is one of the only times we have had access to the internet, and I WANT TO GO SWIMMING!
Tomorrow we are off to New Jersey where we get to see our friend, Jim Testa.
So that is it for now, except I have been told by the band to ask any of you folks going to our shows to bring gifts. And these gifts more precisely are: M&Ms and Fresh Fruit
That is all
John Jughead
We are in Alabany New York taking a day off that we did not want. We are taking a day off that frankly pisses me off. A band should be able to find a show on a Saturday. Dont you think? Well... for reasons I don’t want to go into, because it may cause my head to pop off and roll down my sleave, Squirtgun, Beatnick Termites and Even In Blackouts are not performing ANYWHERE tonight. So... what did Mass and I say to eachother. “Fuck it man, this sucks let’s call it quits and go home and sleep!” No, that is not what we said. We said, “Let’s go Swimming!”
So Mass and I put our personal money into a pot along with two hotel coupons we found at a Denny’s and got ourselves two kind-of-ok rooms at the Quality Inn. We are eating our free breakfasts and are determined to go swimming by noon. As a matter of fact as I type this the rest of the Blackouts are out there now sitting by the water sipping diet cokes and splashing water in each other’s faces. How I envy them. We are talking about going to a movie this evening, probably the Terminator or that Johnny Depp Pirate Movie.
This isn’t really that exciting to be reporting, but it is one of the only times we have had access to the internet, and I WANT TO GO SWIMMING!
Tomorrow we are off to New Jersey where we get to see our friend, Jim Testa.
So that is it for now, except I have been told by the band to ask any of you folks going to our shows to bring gifts. And these gifts more precisely are: M&Ms and Fresh Fruit
That is all
John Jughead
Saturday, June 28, 2003
Hey! A Blog!
When I hear that word I think of a movie about a Blob lost in a thick Portland Fog. Perhaps something directed by John Carpenter with commy undertones.
I think there may be some scenes where we really get to meet the Blob, and for a moment we understand his plight. We see a small globby thick mucus-like tear form in his eye. And then Kurt Russel dressed like a futuristic Elvis with blue hair and silver binoculors that cuts through fog like a spoon through chemically enhanced cereal, kills the lonely, lost Blob with a wire hanger. And then he eats the Blob, and all of a sudden he becomes the strongest, smartest, most invisible man with a father who turns into a dog, flies around in an old ford and gets shot by a woman who buys a double indemity insurance policy. Then Kurt mutates. He turns from human into a digitally enhanced robotron into a technicolor claymation figurine into a black and white plastic model held up by strings and then he is finally sucked back into his mother's vagina.
The End
ps. We leave on tour Sunday July 6th
When I hear that word I think of a movie about a Blob lost in a thick Portland Fog. Perhaps something directed by John Carpenter with commy undertones.
I think there may be some scenes where we really get to meet the Blob, and for a moment we understand his plight. We see a small globby thick mucus-like tear form in his eye. And then Kurt Russel dressed like a futuristic Elvis with blue hair and silver binoculors that cuts through fog like a spoon through chemically enhanced cereal, kills the lonely, lost Blob with a wire hanger. And then he eats the Blob, and all of a sudden he becomes the strongest, smartest, most invisible man with a father who turns into a dog, flies around in an old ford and gets shot by a woman who buys a double indemity insurance policy. Then Kurt mutates. He turns from human into a digitally enhanced robotron into a technicolor claymation figurine into a black and white plastic model held up by strings and then he is finally sucked back into his mother's vagina.
The End
ps. We leave on tour Sunday July 6th
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