FULL SERVICE UPDATES

TAKEOVER TOUR DIARY June 27 - August 2, 2008Full Service HQ

1800 hours: Arrive. Parking lots owned and operated by venue. No other parking offered anywhere near venue. Limits the possibility of debaucherous tailgating, i.e. the kind of amped atmosphere conducive to a takeover. Also clear that parking will cost us ten (10) U.S. dollars. 10 dollars in the hole before we even start. Outlook is dim but excitement remains high.

1830 hours: Scout out spot to set-up. Notice one other booth set-up on premises, a radio station that is promoting the STP show. Friend or foe? Would they disapprove or approve of our endeavor? See it as competition or partnership? All this remains unclear. Regardless, would be unwise to set up our gear in close proximity to theirs. Competition for sound to be avoided at all costs. Bonesaw notes, however, that an affiliation with a radio station would be a good thing in terms of cross-promotion.

1834 hours: Travel 200 yards across venue, away from radio station booth, and find patch of dirt with power outlets coming out of ground. Can only surmise that these are areas where vendors (albeit vendors with permits) are welcome to set up. (See above, radio station). We flag this area as possible location for takeover.

1835 hours: Documentarian (Morgan) notes that a security guard has been keeping direct line of sight on us at all times. He is roaming area in golf cart. Clearly sniffing us out and has concluded that we are up to something. We change our percentage of success prediction (hereafter referred to as "PSP") to 5 %.

1840 hours. Consider venue parking lots as possible location. Discover very minimal amount of tailgating/partying. Area is policed heavily. Beside, concert-goers appear to be in the 30-40 year-old age range. Glory days are behind them and they seem to desire only to enter the venue and find a comfortable seat as quickly as possible. PSP reduced to 4%.

1842 hours: Representative from the radio station approaches and offers us leftover water bottles and cans of R.C. Cola. Inquires of our activities and responds with a "wow, that's really cool". Says that this venue is notoriously tough with security, but wishes us the best of luck. We take our encounter with radio station representative as evidence that most radio people with booths at future takeover locations will be receptive to our takeovers.

1845-1930 hours: Much loitering, milling about, and indecision.

1935 hours: Photographers from the Austin INsite Magazine and the Austin Chronicle approach Bonesaw and inquire about our intentions. Upon hearing of our takeover plans, they get excited and express desire to take photographs for their publications. Bonesaw informs us of this new development and decides that now is the time to set-up as it may lead to our being featured in aforementioned publications.

1940 hours: Hoag takes bass drum out of band vehicle (The Whale) and is immediately approached by aforementioned golf-cart driving security guard. A transcript of the ensuing conversation is below:

Security Guard: "Whatcha doin?"

Hoag: "Oh we're just gonna set up over there and jam."

SG: "Cool."

H: "Mmhmm."

SG: "I presume you guys have permission from the AT&T Center?"

(Silence)

Bonesaw: "I can't in good conscience tell you that we have 'permission'..."

SG: "(laughs) Well, technically I don't have to tell you to stop until AT&T asks me to

make you stop. So...Good luck! (Drives off)."

1941 hours: Much rejoicing. Many exclamations of incredulity. Resume our set-up at the patch of Dirt.

1950 hours: Complete set-up.

1951 hours: Decide that 9 minutes set-up time is sloppy and unacceptable. Resolve to cut set-up time to 4 minutes next time.

1952 hours: Launch into "Hi-Ho".

1956 hours: Launch into "Ramona"

2000 hours: Launch into "Black is Back"

2004 hours: Decide to flip all gear around and face venue where there are more people hanging out.

2006 hours: Approached by team of 9 representatives from the AT&T Center. 65 year-old male with ear-piece asks if we have permit. We reply in the negative. He tells us we must. We apologize. He says next time maybe we can apply for a permit and do this for real. Introduces us to 45 year-old female from marketing department who raises the possibility of our playing during Spurs games during the basketball season. We express willingness to do such things.

2007 hours: Load up band vehicle and prepare for departure.

2008 hours: Security Guard drives up to band vehicle with compliments on performance and well-wishes in future endeavors. Hands over a bill of ten (10) U.S. dollars and says simply..."Gas Money". Parking has thus been paid for.

2009 hours: As band vehicle turns out of venue, look back and see Security Guard in golf cart raising fist in air.

2010 hours: Regard $10-giving security guard as good omen for future takeovers.

Stats

Emails retrieved for email-list: 5 (4 legible, 1 illegible)

Acceptable?: NO

Songs played: 3

Acceptable?: YES

Time of set-up: 9 MINUTES

Acceptable?: NO

Enforcer of shut-down (Security Guard/Venue/Promoter/Police Officer?): VENUE

AREAS OF SUCCESS: contacts with venue established for future opportunities, photographs taken by major publications

AREAS OF FAILURE: set-up time, email-list signatures

REASONS FOR FAILURES: 1) Stone Temple Pilots fans overage/not target audience, 2) venue spread out/multiple access points/no throng of people, 3) parking monopoly by venue, tailgating and partying policed heavily

PERCENT SUCCESS: 80

May 27, 2008 - You don’t just drive 500 miles to Oklahoma NOT to have a good time. We knew that “having a good time” was a virtual guarantee. We may have had no clue what the first ever “Backwoods Bash” Music Festival would be like, but we knew we were going to spend the night sleeping in a tent on the campgrounds. Sold. Good times.

Until we reached Tulsa. Then our moms and friends began calling us, warning us in anxious voices of the impending tornadoes that could be right around the corner at any moment!

But…I can’t say that we heeded their ill portents. I remember watching Smell listening to his mom on the phone, literally looking out the window and around the corner, not seeing any tornadoes, and saying “Pssh… we’re cool…”

And so The Whale swam on…

We got there just before nightfall and didn’t sense any tornadoes. We were told that if the atmosphere suddenly started to look greener than normal, we could expect a tornado. But we didn’t notice anything, so we tried to set up our tent.

At first we didn’t look at the directions. We just sort of unpacked it and walked around the pieces for ten minutes before we decided to cheat and read the instructions.

After that it was really easy, it took like two minutes.

We decided if we all partied, we’d have a good time regardless of the crowd turnout. And unlike other shows, we didn’t have to drive anywhere afterwards. Our sleeping quarters would be 100 yards behind the stage. So we got our brew on and went on around 10pm.

It was an amazing show. At the beginning of our set the crowd was sparse, in the middle it was pretty packed, and by the end people were doing flips off the stage and actually moshing to “3 Will Ride Forth”. I’m not sure what they did when we got to the reaaaaally chill ending, but whatever. They called for an encore and after Twink chugged a full can of beer, we gave it to 'em.

I’m sad to report that we didn’t get any video of the weekend’s hijinks, and that—ladies and gentlemen--is a shame, because not only was it a great show, but afterwards some of the locals who lived on the ranch took us back to their houses (more like a paintball military base) and showed us their collection of dangerous exotic animals, such as the cutamundi, a tree-dwelling, weasel/raccoon type thing usually found in South America. Some were pleasant, some were very, very mean.

Smell found a pleasant one. Classic Smell, I see him sitting Indian style next to the cage scratching one of their bellies.

Ya know, Smell’s into weird ugly animals like that. Like ferrets, He used to have ferrets in his house. And miniature rat dogs like Dogsaw. And Cutamundi.

And not only that, he can perfectly mimic the irritating, frantic, high-pitched noise it makes. Yes!

But like I said, we didn’t get any video, so you’ll have to use your head to picture that crazy scene. We do, however, have some photos. Not of the Cutamundi though. Sorry.

-hoag

TOURSAW X: EAST COAST DIARY:

April 14, 2008 - The second half of the tour went by too quickly. On Thursday, we swam up to New York City for two shows. The first one was at Billboard Magazine headquarters as part of their music in the café series. It was a cool little space, a little hospital-ish in décor, but full of close listeners who seemed to enjoy our tunes. We played the Pieta, Ramona, Hi-Ho, and Tennessee Traveler. I’ll post the videos as soon as we get home. Many thanks to Donna and Kristi for having us. Some highly talented artists have done the café series (Common, Matisyahu, Jon Butler Trio), so it was an honor to be a part of it all.

The show was bananas. Recently we’ve been selling a LOT of t-shirts, the ones with the White Whale/van on the front, and we feel as though we must publicly thank its designer, Joel Skotak. Without Joel’s brilliant artistry, our merch sales would be stratospherically lower. (that doesn’t make sense, does it? “Stratospherically lower”?)

Before the show we broke up into two groups. Bonesaw and I went to throw the Frisbee in central park with our cousin Matt, while Smell and Twink asked to be dropped off at Times Square. Legend has it that from there they went to the Statue of Liberty, ground zero, and radio city music hall, then they took the subway and got lost for quite a while Smell’s famous river-sense—his inner compass—got all spun around and he couldn’t function properly. After some serious deliberations with the Subway maps, they got on the proper shuttle and were spit out onto a street corner where they saw Russell Simmons. (Twink took a picture at point blank range).

The next day we played a really dirty, hype fraternity party at George Washington University in D.C. An old friend named Munkey put the show together and I gotta say, he really made it happen. We played in a dank little basement with graffiti all over the walls (we properly tagged it up) and beer all over the floor (we properly spilled our beers).

Before the show we did a little sight-seeing. Munkey took us around the White House, which is a very awe-inspiring experience indeed. Smell and I wondered how long it would take for security to jump us (shoot us? taser us? somehow incapacitate us) if we climbed over the surprisingly unimposing iron gate that surrounds the property. We decided we’d probably trip an invisible alarm running along the top of the gate, and we’d be shot at with rubber bullets after the passing of a mere second.

We also saw a tent sent up outside the White House where a man (or a group of men in shifts) have been living for more than 30 years protesting the various atrocities this great country has committed against it’s own citizens and those of other countries. 30 years.

When we got back to MomSaw’s house in Philly, we rested up for the show at World Café that night. A lot of our old cronies from back home came out and rocked with us.

The vibe at this show could not have been more different from the vibe at the party in D.C. In D.C., strangers were ripping our clothes off and screaming and dancing. In Philly, our friends and family were sitting at nice wooden tables two feet from the stage, sipping cocktails and applauding politely. Nonetheless, a shirtless Bonesaw managed to climb up on one of those tables and shred a solo.

On our way back home now…Two days of mind-numbing driving. Actually we keep our minds pretty active with discussions about Physics and Space and Politics, it’s really our bodies that get numb.

Stayed at one of the best hotels we’ve ever been to last night in Cookeville, TN. It was a Best Western and it was only $45 or something ridiculous like that. Fridge, two sinks, continental breakfast in the morning. Fantastic. The concierge asked us if we were part of the railroad crew. We said yes…we were aboard the Rock Train, next stop, Platinumville, USA.

After waffles and cereal (and a strange encounter with a sign on the microwave that said “do not microwave eggs, they will EXPLODE”, more of a temptation then a warning, we all agreed) we continued on our journey back to Texas. Austin Reggae Festival, here we come…

April 7, 2008 - Just got through playing two straight nights in Panama City Beach. This is the same place we’ve played before, where we can celebrate the end of our set with a sip or two of rum and a bee-line into the roaring ocean. No joke.

And as always, we were co-billed with our dear friends from The Ugli Stick. If you’ve never seen an Ugli Stick show, I feel bad for you, son. I got 99 problems but the Stick ain’t one.

Let me try to paint a picture.

On the far left you have Dale. He’s a big fella who prefers to stay in the shadows (wears a hoodie and a Yankees cap pulled low over his eyes) but who can’t help but be forced into an “aw shucks, thanks” speech by fans who approach him after a show to tell him how awesome he is and how his solo took you 16 different places and, woah, what’s with his crazy picking techniques? And he can sing too. Hell of a singer.

But the main singer is in the middle. His name’s Birdman. Skills: mathematics, freestyle rapping (maybe the best I’ve ever heard), card tricks (off-stage), ability to use iPhone to it’s full potential (off-stage), innovative acoustic guitar soloist, songwriter, main singer. Competing with Dale for “Top 10 smartest people I’ve ever met”. Birdman’s brilliance is more scattered and in-the-moment—as he says “I have an 8 gig processor but like, no RAM”. Dale, on the other hand, is more contemplative and hungry to straight up dig, which must be why he reads all the time.

Far to the right of the stage is Quentin. He’s a big black dude with a mo-hawk. Add 60 pounds to the word “boogie” and that’s what Quentin is. Does that make sense? He’s like if “boogie” slowed down a little bit because it stepped in too much funk. Hands down the most amazing, virtuosic bass player I’ve ever seen or heard. He literally invented a new way to play the bass. He puts his right arm under the body and his hand plucks the strings upside down. It’s hard to explain. Search “ugli stick’ on youtube and you’ll find it.

Behind the kit is my buddy Tim, who always let’s me use his equipment, which is amazing. He’s got a custom deal with Trick drums, so his set is pretty smooth. Tim is a rock-solid drummer who can play more styles than your starbuck’s has lattes. He’s a self-deprecating, tattooed teddy bear with a heart of gold. Or metal. He loves metal.

Anyway, that’s the Ugli Stick, and they’re wonderful dudes.

The shows were great. Crowds came out despite the somewhat gnarly weather. I’ll post a video soon. Gibler and Addrienne, you guys were so unexpectedly good at nukem. After that, I knew it’d be a good weekend.

Off to Cumberland Maryland to play in the Newlyweds home-town. The Newlyweds saw us on their honeymoon two years ago on Toursaw I, and they’ve hosted us in their town every year. They both have Full Service tattoos and they’re newborn baby was featured on last month’s Wordsaw, wearing a Full Service shirt. It doesn’t get much better than that. See you soon guys.

Toursaw X Band-Member Survey: (Bone…send to everyone or pass this around if you’re reading it in the whale with us)

1. When we get to the Kepner house, I’m really looking forward to ________________.

2. I’m most upset about the unavailability/short supply of _______________ in the cooler:

3. I am currently reading _____________.

4. _____________ takes the most time at rest-stops.

5. Speaking of rest-stops, when we go to them, Bonesaw is most likely to buy ___________, Hoag is most likely to buy _________________, Smell is most likely to steal ____________, and Twink is most likely to buy ________________.

6. Bonesaw never knows where his _____________ is. (only choose one thing, the point here is to find out if it’s his wallet or his cell phone more).

7. The best on-stage moment so-far has been ___________________ (be specific. Don’t just say “when we played freezing dub with Ugli stick, say something in particular about that experience).

8. _______________ wears the same clothes for the longest amount of time.

9. The most structurally compromised piece of music equipment we bring on stage is _________.

10. When the band gets a free tab at bars, I usually order a _____________.

11. I can always sort of predict when Bonesaw will decide to play ____________during a set, but 12. I can never see it coming when he decides to play _____________.

________ owes me __________ (an amount of money).

13. ____________ spends the least money on tour.

14. Hoag is a bad driver because he _____________

15. The worst thing about cooking eggs on the skillet is _____________.

16. I feel the most safe when _____________ is driving, because _____________.

17. On tour, the first of us to show signs of insanity is _____________.

18. My favorite whale signing is ___________.

19. In the whale, the ratio of non-trash to trash is ____________.

20. Most of what we say to each other on tour has to do with _____________.

MY ANSWERS:

1. Playing Scrabble with the folks. They are chumps and I always win.

2. Balance Bars

3. “A History of the World” by J.M. Roberts

4. Bonesaw, unless he really wants to keep going, then he’ll make us all spend no more than 45 seconds.

5. Gum, temporary tattoo, dr. pepper, water (most likely at a very exciting value!)

6. Cell phone

7. Bonesaw’s second solo on the blues jam he did with the Ugli Stick.

8. It’s close, but I think it’s me.

9. My ride cymbal stand

10. shot of rum

11. Battleship/Legs

12. Smell/$10

13. Bonesaw

14. Is always thinking about something other than driving.

15. It always ends up tasting a little bit like card-board and I have no idea why. Also, the yolks look like plastic.

16. Smell because he’s a professional, followed closely by Bonesaw because he’s careful.

17. Smell. He starts twitching at random times.

18. Par: “Meh”

19. 1-1

20. The location of the whale keys.

TWINK

1. Playing basketball at Wentz Run Park

2. No peanuts

3. “Smuggler’s Blues: The Saga of a Marijuana Importer”

4. Bonesaw

5. Bonesaw. Hoag will buy coffee, and waters all around.

6. To me, they are equal, but on this tour I’ve only heard him ask for his wallet once and his cell phone multiple times, but I still think they are equal.

7. I like the part where Birdman freestyled and both Bonesaw and I were able to compensate for (drummer of US) when Tim flipped the beat around.

8. Me

9. Hoag’s cymbal stands

10. Guinness

11. Tasteless Gravy/Have You Been Listening

12. Smell/$665 (not a typo)

13. Smell

14. He spaces out sometimes. But he can park extremely well.

15. I hate the leftover egg residue. The crispy stuff.

16. Smell, because he’s good with traffic and is quick with the wheel.

17. Me. I crave personal space.

18. “Solomon wuz here AKA “C2””

19. 1-1, possibly 1-1.5

20. Women

SMELL

1. free food

2. Almonds (ed. There have never been almonds in the cooler)

3. “Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel”

4. Hoag

5. Twink buys water, Hoag buys temporary tattoos, I steal M&M’s or Beef Jerkey, and Bonesaw buys gas.

6. Wallet

7. Watching Quentin play bongos

8. Hoag

9. Cowbell stand

10. Red stripe

11. Hi-Ho/Water

12. Twink/$4

13. Twinky-P

14. Because he’s late in making crucial decisions.

15. There is nothing bad about the skillet.

16. Me.

17. Twink. Because he starts to hate us.

18. “Good luck—Jamie B. AKA granddaddy”

19. 6-1

20. Women

BONESAW

1. sports. Sports. Sports.

2. gluten free cookies

3. “The Pillars of the Earth” by Ken Follett (almost done)

4. Hoag (though on previous tours, definitely Smell)

5. Hoag WISHES he could buy magazines and sunglasses, but settles for postcards and tattoos. I buy gum. Smell steals plastic cutlery and a soda, and Twink buys water.

6. Wallet, despite its higher value

7. Waging a shredder battle on-stage with Dale, Birdman, and Quintin of the Ugli Stick (as 50 Cent says: “If David could go against Goliath with a stone I could go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne!”)

8. Twink

9. Cowbell stand

10. I don’t usually take advantage of a free drink, but when I do it’s usually a shot of vodka.

11. n/a

12. Smell/$6

13. Me

14. Never knows how he got to where we are, or where we’re trying to go.

15. The fact that is has 3 legs

16. Smell, because he has an innate sense of the rhythms of traffic flow.

17. Twinky-P. Withrdaws into a state of “Must get home and have alone time” 2-3 days before end of tour.

18. Birdman: “To the best bunch of hornswagglers and scallywags I’ve had the pleasure of plundering with”

19. 8-1

20. Location of items (phones, food, books, etc.)

TOURSAW IX DIARY

FEBRUARY 26th, 2008 (videos added soon as we can get a fast internet connection)

THURS, 2/21 (cont.): Just after sundown we headed out to Auburn for our radio performance on 91.1 FM WEGL. Many thanks to Chris and Andrew for setting this up, I couldn’t imagine a more hospitable and adventurous student radio station, willing to open it’s doors to a strange group of sailors from Austin, TX. We have video documentation of the whole evening, including a saxophone solo by yours truly. Check out the video:

FRI: Left early in the morning to go to our show in Guntersville, but first we stopped in Birmingham to pick up my old college roommate, “Fort”. Fort snuck us into his local YMCA and we rocked a game of pretty intense roundball. Smell and Me versus Fort and Bonesaw (the evening before, Twinky-P had developed some cold/flu symptoms, so the poor guy opted out of competitive contest and slept in the Whale). Anyway, Bonesaw and Fort took the first half 15-11 thanks mostly to the unexpectedly hot hand of Ole’ Fort. Said Smellman at the half, “I can’t BLEEPing stop his stupid BLEEPing mid-range bank shot!!” That, and Smellman’s shooting hand was about as cold as a frozen codish. Nevertheless, we came back fighting in the second half. I attempted to set the tone early with a violent hip-check to Bonesaw in the low post, but Bonesaw answered with one of his own at the other end. Smell and I continued to put the pressure on throughout the second half, but we came up short in the end, losing 30-28. Which means we won the second half, 17-15. So really we split one game a piece, right? Right. (Bonesaw says: “that’s completely bogus. They never had the lead the ENTIRE game. This is just another Hoagman ploy to somehow try to convince people that no matter when he wins or loses, he still wins. –BS).

After the game we showered in the YMCA locker rooms which was a terrifying experience thanks to the number of fat, naked, old dudes who insist on roaming around completely naked.

When we got into Guntersville, we dropped off Bonesaw at the motel where he set about making his microwave dinner. The plan was for the rest of us to head over to this pizza restaurant, pick up a couple of ‘zzas, and scoop Bone on our way back to the bar we’d be playing at that night. So we placed out order with the hostess and she said “it’ll be ready in about 30 minutes.” After 40 minutes she said it wasn’t even in the oven yet and that they were really backed up. Smell suggested that he and I—with our combined pizza-making expertise, honed from years of quality training at various parlors around Austin—offer to help the kitchen staff catch up and get back on track. I thought that was an excellent idea, but on our way over to the hostess we caught a glimpse of ourselves in the mirror and remembered that we have incredibly long, dready, unruly hair, and that nobody in their right cabesa would consent to our presence in a food-prep work-station. So we instead told the waitress to please do the best she could because we were in danger of being late to our gig. She told us she would, and we waited for another ten minutes before she gave us the unsettling news that our pizza was still not in the oven. We told her we were sorry but we had to cancel the order and take off, at which point she admonished us for “not getting here earlier.” We left with our tails between our legs.

It was 8:30pm and we were panicking because Bonesaw told us we wouldn’t have time to eat until after the show. As we all know, a hungry dog is an angry dog, so things got tense amongst the group.

We jammed to a packed house of somewhat bewildered 30-45 year-old country folk at “Boondock’s”, and afterwards ate some KILLER cheeseburgers. Those nitwits over at the pizza place told us that Boondock’s had terrible food, but screw them, they’re obviously liars as well as slow pizza-makers, because these cheeseburgers were magnifico y delicioso. After eating, we partied with the locals. Here's the video:

SAT: Split town pretty early so we could get to Auburn for our show at “Ale House” with time for dinner, but certain misfortunes befell us on the road that delayed our arrival. It went like this:

Hoag (halfway to Auburn): Man, we’re getting pretty low on gas.

Bone: What’s “pretty low”?

Hoag: We’re at Empty.

Bone: We’re at Empty??

Hoag: Actually we’re a little bit below empty.

Bone: Can we make it to Alex City in 12 miles?

Smell: Yeah for sure…

And right at that moment, the Whale sputtered its last gurgling breath, and the verbal assaults on Hoag began. From Bonesaw “You are HELPLESS!” From Smell “(laughter) ohhH! Aaaaahaahahaha! OHhhhh, you dumbass….a-hahaha!” From Twink “Dude I told you before we left to keep an eye on the gas.”

I argued that I was doing the band a favor by giving us a “running-out-of-gas-in-the-middle-of-nowhere” story. What’s a touring band without an experience like this? I asked them. They were not buying it, and told me to go with Fort (who, thank heavens, was following us in his own car instead of traveling with us) to pick up a gallon of gas. (Bonesaw adds: “In all our time out on the road, we’ve NEVER had anybody follow us in another car. This is the only time. Further proof that Hoagman, no matter what mess he gets himself into, always finds a miraculous escape route. Gotta love him.”). Video here:

So Fort and I drove fifteen minutes up the highway and bought an emergency gallon. We brought it back, shoved it into the tank, and lo and behold….the Whale still wouldn’t start. So again Fort and I drove the fifteen minutes up the highway and bought an emergency gallon. We brought it back, shoved in into the tank, and lo and behold…the Whale still wouldn’t start.

But then Smell came to the rescue with a wonderful ignition/gas-pedal pumping display that got the engine revving correctly. He popped it in drive and we were on our way. Total time wasted: 1 hour and five minutes. Big freakin’ deal. (Bonesaw adds: “Hoag forgets to mention that now the Whale has trouble starting”).

Auburn was a fun show. Everybody who came out it did so because of our promotional efforts from earlier in the week, so it was nice to see that some of that paid off. Aside from the show itself, there were two main highlights. One was watching Smell take a flaming shot, and the other was this balloon-sculptor virtuoso make us a balloon-sculpture of Bonesaw and the White Whale. Video here:

SUN: Fort headed back to Birmingham in the morning, and FS continued on to Atlanta. It was Bonesaw’s birthday, the big THREE-OH! Too bad we spent most of the day driving and then playing a very poorly-attended show late on a Sunday night. But such is life I suppose. We did manage to fit in a game of soccer at Piedmont Park, however. And we all know that if Boneman gets to play a competitive sport, his day is complete and he is content. So we were glad that he at least got that.

MON: Since Sunday was kind of crappy, Bone wanted to head to the beach on our way to Tallahassee and spend some time amongst the sand, sun, and water. So we went to Panama City and hung there for a while. He and I battled Smell and Twink in 3 games of Nukem (volleyball kind of, but where you catch it and throw it instead of bump it and hit it). Smell and Twink took the first game (I don’t know how), and Bone and I took the next two to take the best-of-3 tournament. After the game Bonesaw took a run and swam in the ocean, even though it was not hot or even warm outside. I think he had made up his mind the day before that temperature would not be a factor in his decision to get into some salt water. I guess once you turn 30 you develop that sort of “i-don’t-have-much-time-left”, “devil-may-care” attitude. (First 30 joke of the year!)

Later that night we got a room at Econo-Lodge, watched Lost on abc.com (mind-blowing), and grabbed some dinner. Bone went to the grocery store, Twink had some soup, and Smell and I went to a local pizza parlor and ordered the biggest pie I’ve ever seen. We couldn’t even finish it. It totally owned us.

TUES: Right now we are driving to Tallahassee to promote at FSU for our show at Beta Bar tomorrow night…

FEBRUARY 21, 2008

WED. (FIRST DAY): This day can be characterized by driving, coughing, hocking loogies, nose-blowing, and Rambo. We traveled all day, stopped at a movie theater and snuck in to see Rambo (blood, blood, explosions, blood, explosions, blood, credits), then plopped ourselves into some hotel beds and hoped for a better tomorrow.

THURS: We still felt crappy due to our coughs and congestion, so we again snuck into a movie theater in Pascagoula, MS and saw Jumper, starring Hayden Christensen, Rachel Bilson (Smell’s future wife), and a silver-haired Samuel L. Jackson. It was bad, and we knew that going in. Did it matter? Not even a little bit. Totally entertained. Later that night there was more coughing, and a show at The Celtic. Our voices were broken from our sickness, and it didn’t help that every patron in the bar was smoking AND there was a guy with a hooka set up next to the stage supplying us with a steady stream of throat-irritant. But who cares, it’s a bar, and it’s all good. We rocked it and made some friends (finally got to meet and hang out with one of our most dedicated street-teamers, “Pascagoula Jeff”). You know, the Celtic is a great place. The owner’s name is Ryan and he’s one of the cooler dudes that lives in the Gulf Coast. He’s so punk rock (though he doesn’t look like it) that he puts out a hand-made rock magazine around town, and he interviewed us for it after the show. We did it in the bar kitchen and he asked some excellent questions. (“What’s your favorite Beatles song?” “Bonesaw, what’s your deal with all the exercising?” “Hoag, what did you do for your girlfriend on Valentine’s Day?”). Speaking of Valentine’s Day, Smell was determined not to let the day go by without bringing some warmth to a lady’s heart. So he asked Laurel, the bartender we met on Toursaw VIII, to be his valentine and presented her with a tiny bouquet of “flowers” (they were mostly weeds he picked from the concrete out in the parking lot…It’s the THOUGHT, people!). Laurel was very appreciative and stuck the bouquet in a vase that was already home to a dozen roses given by a bar patron with perhaps a little more cash-flow than our hero Smellman.

FRI: To Uncle Tim’s and Aunt Lori’s in Mobile. Our third stay here. We checked in then went to a park and watched a random soccer game. Smell rooted for the black team, Bone and I for the orange team until we realized they were a bunch of underachieving cry-babies. So we went over to join Smell’s black team and lo and behold, he had become their hero-mascot. They were cheering his name in the huddle and everything. Apparently this team was the laughing stock of the league, and the orange team was ranked 8th in the state, so they were having a blast and got quite a kick out of this random dreadlocked dude cheering them on. They came to love Bonesaw and I as well and it was all very heartwarming. They lost on double overtime penalty kicks, but to them it was a victory. Afterwards, we ate some pasta and headed over to Grand Central for the first of two nights. This is the place where we play for the whole night, one of those behemoth 3 hour deals. Bonesaw and I were a little intimidated because we knew our voices were weak like Screech Powers thanks to the cough, but upon entering the club we were immediately lifted by the discovery of our old FS banner that we had left behind on toursaw VIII. The show proved to be…fair. I’m not sure we “sang” so much as we had “intense fits of cough”, but overall it was a good show. Perhaps the highlight was not having to unload, because we’d be playing there the next night too so we could leave all our stuff on stage.

SAT: We went back to the park to root for the black team but they weren’t there, so Smell and Bonesaw played Frisbee golf in the woods, I went for a run and did pushups and coughed stuff up, and Twink read his Van Halen biography and slept in the van. The show that night was way better. Huge crowd, lots of love, and my voice was back in business. Our last set was actually the best, which is a testament to the partying stamina of mobilians. At freakin’ 2:45 in the morning and there was no sign of the audience quitting anytime soon. Twink and Bonesaw seemed to get a second wind from a beautiful girl in a gold dress dancing in the front, Smell stayed in the game thanks to a beautiful girl with dreadlocks dancing in the front, and I—as ever—needed only the love from the rock to keep me on task.

SUN: We went to bed at 5am on Saturday, so we slept well into the day on Sunday, which means Bonesaw slept until 9am, and Twink and I slept until 2:30pm. I don’t know what time Smell slept until because he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Sunday was pretty slow. Aunt Lori made us some lasagna and Reagan (the 5 year old daughter) made us pretend ice-cream, chicken, fruit salad, turkey, French fries, and boiled carrots. Fisher Price style.

MON: When Smell got back to the house we said our goodbyes to the Taylor family and headed out to Alex City, AL to spend the night at the Royal Inn. We had nothing to do until Wednesday when we’d go promote in Auburn, so we grubbed on some Subway and rented Miami Vice with Collin Farrell and Jamie Foxx. (Does his last name have two “x”s or am I making that up?). Anyway, this movie was pure garbage and though only Twink stayed awake until the end, we loved every filthy minute of it.

TUES: After Bonesaw and I drank our morning motel-coffee (coffee tastes different and weird out of a small Styrofoam cup), we hit the road for Mama Anne’s (Smell’s Grandma’s) house. We had a mountain to climb, so we dropped off Twink at Mama Anne’s (on the disabled list thanks to a sprained ankle), and headed to Cheaha National Park for 4 solid hours of trail-hiking, off-trail hiking (i.e. getting lost), creek jumping, eating lunch in the bamboo forest, getting our shins torn to shreds by thorned creepers reminiscent of barbed freakin’ WIRE, and finally, in the end, fort-building. The fort turned out to be a legitimate structure that could provide cover and shelter from the elements. I know what you’re thinking. “Show me some proof”. But it just so happens that the video camera battery died right before we finished, and my camera phone memory card was full, so unfortunately there is no proof of the integrity of our “fort”. I guess now it’s just a question of how much faith you have in our survival skills. But I’m telling you, this thing would stay standing in a (very mild) rain sprinkle.

Anyway, Smell and I made a documentary about the whole experience and I’ll edit it and post it online as soon as we get back to Austin (maybe sooner if I can find the right type of cord at a radio-shack while on the road).

WED: We drove the whale over to Auburn for the day to promote for our show on Saturday, and ended up scoring a live on-air performance on the college radio station, 91.1 WEGL-FM. We then set up shop with an acoustic takeover and handed out a ton of demos to an extremely receptive and welcoming student body. Two Sociology students even interviewed us for their class. I think it was because we looked weirder than everyone else on campus. But I can tell you this, those two students were way weirder than Full Service. Sample question: “When was the last time you went to the grocery store, and did you buy condoms?” I’m not complaining, the stranger the questions the better. You know how sick we are of hearing “How did you become a band?” and “Who are some of your influences?”

Stay tuned for more. It’s dinner time at Mama Anne’s…

November 30th, 2007 -

You may be asking “why have there been no funny updates recently? Why isn’t there lots of new stuff up on the website?” well, the answer is that we’ve been totally obsessed with rehearsing and writing for our new album due out January 19th and it has taken over our lives. Particularly Hoagman’s life as he has the most complex parts (drums and vocals) and also practices about 100X more than the rest of us in the band. But even I, Bonesaw, have been practicing hours a day in my seat by the window in my blue bedroom, working and reworking all my solos and riffs. Hoag and I, after an hour or two (or three or four in his case) of solo jamming will then get together in the jam room and drill over the parts. So like a swimmer getting ready for a huge meet, we’re now peaking and ready to hit the studio, which we will do at 9AM on Monday morning. Here’s a little video clip from a jam between Hoag and I on the new song “Egwene” (though it will probably be named something else on the album). And no, that's not a yawn from me, i'm just singing along!

So hang tight and get ready for “The Dig” – 15 tracks that will soon be legend. and now, back to the jamming. . .

Love, BONESAW

TOURSAW VIII UPDATES:

October 21, 2007 -

Toursaw VIII has hereby come to a close. We played the last show of the trip last night in Hattiesburg, MS, and now we’re inside the belly of the Whale headed back to Tejas. But before I offer you a wrap-up of the 4 remaining cities in these Toursaw VIII diaries (Atlanta, Gainesville, Tallahassee, and Hattiesburg), allow me this brief foray into the art of equipment loading.

It’s the end of the night, usually between 1am and 3am. With so many thoughts of cereal and sleep fluttering through your head, it’s almost impossible to keep your eye on the prize of packing the Whale. But it’s a challenge, and we in Full Service love a good challenge. The question is, can we turn our brains off (to keep from feeling the pain/fatigue/frustration that accompanies such an arduous task) without also turning our bodies off (so that the physical exertion required by this task remains possible)? Athletes must do this all the time. They get tired, but they refuse to listen to their tiredness. And the great thing is, we are all there for each other when we see somebody’s body turn off. Smell fell asleep while standing upright next to the Whale last night, and I reminded him that he must only let his brain go dead, not his eyes, legs, arms and back. (Although, since my brain was appropriately turned off, what I actually said to him was something like “grunt grunt, ooga booga, naaa!”) Not surprisingly, our smelly hero snapped to, and resumed the hustle.

Anyway, we left off with Atlanta. A beautiful town, truly. We managed to find a huge park in the center of town to hang out at before the show (Piedmont Park). Twink practiced balancing the soccer ball on his head while Bonesaw—the greatest hucker this side of Neptune—threw 300 yard Frisbee bombs to me and Smell. On the walk back to the club we found a sidewalk of wet-cement and wrote “Full Service rules!” in it. Hopefully it becomes a landmark some day, huh? When we actually got to the Whale we realized that the back door was wide open. WIDE open. We all hung our heads in shame.

We played with some great bands that night, including a band we played with way back on Toursaw I: The Original Tour, at a really crappy place in D.C. called “The Grog and Tankard” (admittedly, a very cool name). I forget the band’s name right now, but we both remember each other, and it was utterly bonkers to be meeting up again 2 years later in Atlanta of all places.

Anyway, our set was properly righteous, as the sound guy was awesome and got us all in the mood by playing Mastodon on the P.A. before we took the stage. Mastodon hails from Atlanta, and we were all hoping they’d come to the show. I have no idea why they would, but…they didn’t. Bonesaw wore his Mastodon T-shirt his friend Dallas (from Lonestar Pornstar) got him for his birthday, just in case.

Many thanks to Fabulous Abby, our Atlanta myspace commander for coming out to the show with a bunch of people. I’m gonna keep sending you demos and stickers so you can further spread “da word”). Also, Shake, it was great meeting you man. This guy Shake was so on point with the Service, he just GOT it. He told us that while we were soundchecking and playing all these metal riffs, he knew we would eventually play one-drop reggae during our set. He said it wasn’t the dreadlocks that tipped him off, it was the way Bonesaw dipped and dodged to the music.

And to that other dude, the one who said he really dug us and works for BMI…well, first of all I don’t believe that you work for BMI. You bragged about it too much. But you were a nice guy and we really appreciate your generosity with the vibes.

One more noteworthy note about the Atlanta experience (“noteworthy note”…such poor form): we’ve all heard horror stories about touring, but this one might take the cake. One of the bands that night, Endway, asked to borrow our flashlight because they had locked the keys in their van. When I went down to the parking lot at the end of the night to get it back from them, they were still working on it. Two dudes were on the roof, one prying open the door with a much-too-small screwdriver, and one jabbing a much-too-thin clothes hanger inside the window to pull up the lock. The third member of the band was on the other side of the van shining our flashlight on the lock opposite him. It was 2am, and as I spoke to him about their bad-luck, he began to explain that this was only one in a series of misfortunes. First, their van broke down completely, so they had to rent this one. Then, they crashed this one into a deer and busted up the front grill. (I walked to the front of their vehicle at this point, and indeed, the deer had done considerable damage). They play in Austin at Momo’s on November 16. We’re supposed to meet up with them to get our flashlight back.

Next up for us was Gainesville, Florida. Ever heard that song about the “Suwanee River”? Waaaay down yonder on the suwa-NEEE rivERRR!” Well we stopped at Suwanna River Park to play some soccer. Smell and I rolled and evened the Toursaw VIII series to 3 games apiece.

Gainesville’s always a good time. The day of the show we always head over to campus to do an acoustic takeover and hand out demos and flyers for the show. It’s usually pretty safe on campus, but this time Smell got attacked by a zombie. Instead of helping him, I decided to bust out the video camera and document the terror. I’ll post it soon.

Anyway, our musical home in Gainesville is a small reggae-flavored bar called “The Sidebar”. The guy who runs the place, Anthony, pulled a fast-one on us and advertised us on their myspace page as being an “Emo band”. When I got to the club I accosted him for this gross misleading of the public, and he just started laughing his ass off. I gotta admit, that’s pretty good. Anthony’s a good dude. He had Austin heroes Grimy Stiles at the Sidebar a couple weeks ago, and as we were loading in, the bar was actually jamming their CD on the P.A. We all kinda teared up with Austin Pride. Their CD is really sick, by the way. If you don’t have it, I recommend getting it somehow. It’s pure dub and it’s delicious.

To our good friend Laney, thank you for wandering the parking lot looking for a different club and taking Smell’s suggestion that you instead hit up the Side Bar for our show. We’re so glad you dug it, and we’re eternally grateful for you help in carrying the equipment out to the Whale. Good luck becoming a tiger-trainer and realizing whatever other zoological dreams you may be nurturing.

From Gainesville to Tallahassee it’s about 7.5 hours, and along the way you can feel a distinct change taking place. Gator license plates give way to Seminole ones. Blue and Orange paint jobs yield to Red and Gold paint jobs. The FU-FSU rivalry is not a joke. It’s a real hatred. It’s worse than Jerry/Newman; it’s worse than coyote/roadrunner, it’s even worse than Hoag/Smell.

Our good buddy Pontsaw got us a show playing at a small $5-all-you-can-drink bar on campus called “The Tribal”. Best show of the tour, easily. We used our own P.A., our own small string of Christmas lights, and had no monitors, but it was by far the most hype show we played this past two weeks. Thank you Pont, and thank you for letting us stay at your pad. Pont lives with 3 of the most Joe-College dudes I’ve ever met. When we woke up the morning after the how at 9am, they were already drinking bloody mary’s, filling flasks for the tailgate later that day. I also overheard them talking about Halloween costumes. They planned on being tampons. That’s just gross. (Bonesaw note: it was actually these guys MOM who was making the bloody mary’s, much to the horror of Smell, who had been sleeping on the couch until the whole fam busted in at 8am with drinks and breakfast. He wasn’t happy).

Before we left FSU, we played the final game of the Toursaw VIII soccer Tournament in Pont’s perfectly manicured, on-all-sides-gated backyard. It was wet, which neutralized our speed advantage, so it was a very close game. Overtime in fact. But in the end, as is most often the case, Smell and I prevailed, keeping the crown of “best two-man soccer team in the world”. Basking in this glory, we headed off to Hattiesburg for one last show before our return to Austin.

Shows in Hattiesburg are always hit or miss. Our first show there, during Toursaw IV, was jam-packed. Our second show, during Toursaw VI, was empty, because everybody was out of town for Easter. Our third show, during Toursaw VII, was packed, and last night there were probably 50 people in the club. It probably would have been 200 had most students not been out of town for fall break. But Superfansaw Lori Long, from the show in Auburn was there, and she brought a crowd of about ten. She’s such a sweet girl and so supportive of our efforts and the efforts of other independent bands, she’s really an example of the reason we do this stuff. She spreads the word, listens closely to the subtleties, brings crowds, and best of all, dances her heart out. We love you Lori, and we’ll definitely be in touch. Come visit Austin, you’d love it here.

I leave you with this list of ways in which Toursaw VIII changed the Full Service set:

--Our new song “The Tea Has Bubbles” has become a band favorite and will be played with increasing frequency at Austin-area shows. Same goes for “Blue Glass Lake”, “Hotter in The House”, and “Blueberry Farm.” (Bonesaw adds: “Blasted Lands is clearly the best FS tune in the new set, it’s just that only the most heavy crowds, such as Houston, can handle the rocking.”)

--The “get down reaaaal low” part of Stand by Me has reached a new level. Last night Hoag was on his knees, and Smell was actually splayed out on his back. So next time you see us play this, which for all you austinites will be at the Flamingo Cantina show on November 3rd, make sure you get as low as you can possibly get. We all need to be on the same level, people. And getting high is too easy. It’s time to go subterranean.

--Bonesaw has developed a mental block which for some reason disables him from remembering to play the last four bars of the first verse of Ramona. This mistake has serious consequences resulting most often in extreme dissonance between my vocals and the chord he plays on guitar. Last night he did it correctly, but it remains a concern.

--Smell has a cowbell solo during which he sometimes solicits assistance from the audience. Plan accordingly.

--I have recently decided to give myself the freedom to not play drums when I only feel like singing. Of late I have taken to singing sans drumming at the beginning of “Legs” and “Never be Saved” and “Broken Women”.

See you soon everybody,

Hoag

October 15, 2007 -

Smell won the 2nd Car Bingo list. We were stopped at a red light in Goodwater, Alabama (home of Smell’s Grandma “Mama Ann”), and he said to us very calmly, “Ohmygod…calvin…pissing….” And sure enough, barely visibly, in the middle of a much bigger chevrolet sticker, we all sadly, hesitatingly, acknowledged it’s presence. It was all sort of anti-climactic actually. I don’t mean to diminish Smell’s victory in any way, I’m just saying...I don’t think any of us wanted to accept that the greatest, most competitive game of car bingo ever played…was over.

Anyway, we started a new list, hoping to repeat the magic. It’s been a good game so far. Smell and I both only have 2 left. Smell has “Person on bicycle” and “honor roll student sticker on back of car”, and I have “double wide mobile home being carried by 18-wheeler” and “honor roll sticker”. It should be an interesting finish because, as smell noted, there’s probably not a lot of honor roll stickers floating around small-town Alabama.

Speaking of Alabama, we knew we were in Guntersville when the bar owner apologized for the low turnout (even though it was fine) by explaining, “This is the first day of huntin’ season and everybody’s out shootin’ this whole weekend”.

But no disrespect to ‘Bama. It’s a beautiful place, full of beautiful people. The most beautiful of whom, is Smell’s Grandma, “Mama Ann” (which is really pronounced “Ma’man”). Ma’man has been so nice to us, cooking us hearty home-cooked dinners like chicken with broccoli and spaghetti with meat sauce. She’s done our laundry, made us eggs in the morning, put out cookies for us, watched football with us, laid out bath towels for us, gotten directions to Atlanta for us…and all we’ve done is change a light-bulb in her garage. We love you Ma’man. Can we come for Christmas?

As I said, ‘bama is a beautiful place. Today we hiked the Cheaha Wilderness in the Talladega National Forest. It was brutal. It was awesome. Legs hurt. Mostly around the hip joints.

Total walking time: 4 hours, 35 minutes.
Total amount of water consumed (as individuals): ½ Liter (that’s not very much)
Total number of peanut butter and honey sandwiches consumed: 4 (that’s also not very much)
Total number of totally awesome walking sticks found: 2
Total number of totally awesome walking sticks put in the whale and kept for posterity: 2
List of animals seen fighting:

1) Wasp v. Wasp

2) Hawk v. Hawk

3) Dog v. Deer

4) Twinky-P v. Fly-In-His-Face

Tomorrow we head to Atlanta as the shows continue after these last two days off, which were joyously spent watching football and playoff-baseball and Dante’s Peak, starring Pierce Brosnan.

Until next time, ye dogs!

Hoag

October 13, 2007 -

Two bad things about these travel bingo games.

1) the driver keep his eyes on the road for a far lower amount of time than he should.
2) You can’t sleep in the van for fear of missing out on any items.

Twink and Smell and I have only one more item to cross off: a sticker of Calvin taking a pee. The atmosphere in the van right now is extremely tense. We are all on edge. I can only imagine the celebration that will ensue whenever one of us chances upon this holy grail. You’ll probably be able to hear it from where you’re reading this right now. Especially if it’s Twink who wins. He is by far the most vocally enthusiastic participant in this game. Tranquilizers have crossed our minds.

Last night we were in Auburn for a show at Rooster’s. Auburn is a beautiful campus, by the way. Maybe it was the time of year, but it just felt good being in this town. About 6 degrees to chilly (Bonesaw and Smell and I had to pick up some $7 fleece jackets at K-mart), but otherwise perfect.

Tonight we play Mugshot’s Bar in Jackson, MS. Our old friend “Mississippi Erin” is putting us up, so she gets today’s MVP award. Apparently this place gets packed on weekends, so let’s hope for a bumpin show tonight.

October 11, 2007 -
Well you salty dogs, I was hoping to hit you with a hilarious video-diary, but I am unable to transfer video to this laptop. Apparently they don’t make a 4 pin DV to USB firewire cable for these things, so I’ll have to wait until I get hope to edit all of this tasty road footage. We shot a killer Cribs episode of Twinky P’s childhood home in Kingwood, TX, and we chronicled our desperate search for a Golden Corral in Slidell, LA.

We’ve had three shows so far. In Houston we opened up for Lonestar Pornstar, Faceplant, and the Dirty Wormz. We all knew that LSPS and Faceplant could throw down, but we’d never seen Dirty Wormz. Those dudes are pretty sick. DJ Crash and Smack (the MC) are an unstoppable duo. We talked to Crash afterwards and we’re gonna hook up some shows together in Austin.

After Houston we headed to Mobile, AL, where we again descended upon the Taylor household (Smell’s relatives) for 4 days and 4 nights. Twinky-P went out with Uncle Tim to his office poker-night, thinking he’d win some big money, but it wasn’t his night. He lost $20. I can only imagine what Tim’s co-workers thought when he introduced them to his friend “Twinky-P”.

We did a takeover at the University of Southern Alabama student cafeteria to promote the show at Fabacher’s on Monday, but after 2 songs a big scary woman named Ursula came up to us and asked us if we had permission to be here, even though she obviously already knew the answer. I’m kidding, I don’t know if her name was Ursula, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. There’s nothing nice about that name, and there was nothing nice about her. screw it, the damage had already been done by the time she kicked us out. Smell had gotten rid of all the demos and stickers and got some chatter going about the show.

After that we went to the local high school to find a pick-up game of soccer. We ended up playing against 6 other High School studs who had way superior foot skills. But as we suspected, we were able to beat them with mind games, trash talk, brute force, and unrelenting hustle. “I didn’t think you guys were gonna be so intense, you look so chill” one kid said, to which Smell replied, “not on the pitch, buddy!“

Anyway, after the game we made peace, and they all signed to Whale and left with Full Service demos.

Yesterday we headed out to Pascagoula for a show at a small-town bar called The Celtic, where I immediately won over the crowd by saying “Thank you Pensacola!”. A few notable things happened at this show. 1) we met a dude with the coolest nickname on the planet: “Apple Sauce”. 2) some drunk butthead threw a chair at somebody, and the bartender, Laurel, came over and strangled him and told him to leave.

But the big story of the tour so far has been the new game we’re playing in the Whale during our drives. We make lists of things we must find, and the first one to spot all the items on the list wins an as-yet-undeclared prize. But rest assured, it will be very small and relatively worthless.

We’ve done two lists so far. Bonesaw won the first, and I’m going to win the second.

road kill
fireworks stand
can or bottle of beer on the side of the road
a non-texas of US flag
yellow school bus
orange car
motorcycle
dog
tractor
2 boats
a sign with the word "cajun" on it
car with a broken window
a band sticker
license plate of a northern state

and then here's the new list we're working on now:

one of those stickers of calvin (from calvin and hobbes) pissing
a chinese buffet
a car bra (one of those leather things that fits over car headlights)
propane/septic tank
brown highway park/historical/scene overlook sign
jet ski
car with two window flags
car with one headlight (something we call a "padiddle")
dollar store
3 different farm animals
car with hazzard lights on
fraternity/sorority sticker
a car with audible sub-woofer noise coming from it
a billboard with a photo of an insurance/real-estate agent
two yellow cars

and the rules are, if you make two mis-calls (like if i say "padiddle" and it turns out to have two headlights), you get one thing taken from your list that you've already gotten. also, you can play "defense" by calling out something you already have, thereby preventing somebody else from getting it.

Gotta head to the gig. Talk to ya’ll later.

-hoag

TOURSAW VI UPDATES!
JULY 4, 2007 - So yes, we went to Shipwreck Island! And it was great. How to relay the magical experience? How to adequately convey the speed of the slides? the perilousness of the heights? the sharpness of the curves?

It's impossible. Suffice it to say, we had a rip-roaring time, and rest assured we broke every rule in the waterpark book about hands-and-feet-inside-the-tube-at-all-times, don't-go-down-head-first, no-running, etc. . The only thing bad about it all were the life-guards, or as we like to call them, "Fun-Preventers". They are constantly trying to keep the awesome-level at the lowest possible setting. And why did they look so freaking miserable? You're on Shipwreck Island!, people! Put on a happy face for the people!

Now for a quick numbers game about Toursaw VII:

Number of times we were asked if we were twins (when in pairs), triplets (when a trifecta--as at Shipwreck Island, from which Twink stayed home for reasons unknown). or--I swear--Quadruplets (when rolling all together): 4

Number of times a manager at Golden Corral asked Hoag if he could "please pull up his britches": 1

Number of times the existence of God was reaffirmed: 2. The first time, a chilly beach breeze was making bonesaw uncomfortable in the whale late at night, and he exclaimed, "God! Please close the window". He was talking to Smell and I, seated amidships, but before we had a chance to react, the window blew itself shut. The second time, we were lost in Pacagoula, Mississippi, and we were trying to decide if we should turn back around. At that moment, we passed a sign that said, Church of God: A Good Place to Turn it Around". We obeyed and found the club.

Number of "Live Bait Shops" we saw on the side of the road: 34

Number of Live Bait Shops that had signs up saying "Now Serving Pizza": 1

Number of shows that had incredible sound-systems: 3. The Peachtree in Atlanta, Grand Central in Mobile (thank you Bobby, yours was the best), and Mugshots in Hattiesburg, Mississippi (what the hell is the abbreviation for Mississippi, anyway?)

Number of times Hoag did an interpretive, poetic reading of 50 Cent's "In Da Club": 2

Number of times people responded favorably: 1

Number of times we played a show where a Sega and a TV were set up within 10 feet of the stage: 1

Number of times the plastic knife broke off in the peanut butter jar: 6

Number of times Hoag and Bonesaw beat Twink and Smell in Nucem: 7

Number of times we played Nucem: 7

JULY 2, 2007 -
The last you heard from us, we were at the mini-golf course trying to decide--via ruthless competition--who would do the dishes at the beach house that night. Have I even told you about the beach house? It's quite something. Whenever we play in Panama City Beach, Club Spinnaker let's us stay in a house they have near the beach for bands from out of town. Our show was on Sunday, but since we didn't have a show anywhere on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, they told us we could stay there that whole time.

Pretty sweet deal. The only thing is (and it's a minor thing), we tend to have nightmares while staying there. Mild nightmares. Nothing terrifying. Under normal circumstances, we probably wouldn't have even noticed, or attributed it to being in that house. But when we left town on wednesday morning, we noticed the name of the street we were staying on; I swear to god it was Elm St. That's not funny, it's weird.

But this is not the end of the Panama City Beach Narrative. There is still one thing left to discuss. Something so grand, so fantastic, so full of adventure, you might want to sit down before you start reading about it. (Then again, who really uses a computer standing up? Besides Bonesaw. Did you guys know that Bonesaw is on the computer for at least 3 hours a day and he does it all standing up? I think he does it for the challange. Amazing.)

Back to the big thing I was going to tell you about. The thing so grand, so fantastic, so full of adventure....Shipwreck Island! It's a waterpark, and it's awesome. We passed by it on the way to and from the mini golf excursion, but it was closed. And expensive. And it looked like we'd never be able to go. Ever in our lives.

Then, on Tuesday, Smell and I went out to a used book store. He got a Sci-Fi book called "Time Storm", I got "The Princess Bride" which is easily the funniest book I've ever read. But that's not important right now. What's is important is Shipwreck Island! On the way home from the book store, Smell and I started talking about how cool it would be to go to Shipwreck Island! Too bad none of us could afford it, we kept saying. It sure would be awesome to spend an afternoon on Shipwreck Island! But it wasn't gonna happen. We've all been spending too much money as it is, we kept saying. It was a lost cause, we kept saying.

Then, we stopped "saying" and thought of something. Was there anyway Bonesaw would dip into the band account to fund a field trip? No, we both decided. Then "No" changed to "Well, maybe". Then it changed back to "No.". Then a "Definitely not". There was simply no way we could convince The Saw that this was a wise use of band money. I mean, the best thing we could come up with was, "Hey listen Bonesaw, I think morale is a little low, I think the guys need a little pick-me-up." But that was no good. We'd been lounging on the beach, playing Nucem, sneaking into movies for the past two days. Morale had, in fact, never been higher.

(As an aside, we've become really adept at sneaking into movies. We did it five times this tour. Here's how it works. Smell just walks in the theater and owns it. Walks right past ticket-takers, managers, janitors, etc. He acts like he's talking on his cellphone, trying to find somebody in the theater (who, presumably has bought him a ticket). Then, he goes to the back of the building, opens the door, and just lets us in. It's almost impossible to get caught sneaking into a movie theather when you have Smell running point. One time an employee walked out of a back office at the very moment Smell was ushering us through the back exit. The guy looked us straight in the eyes and just ignored us completely. I don't know why, but we just never get caught.

Not that it doesn't weigh on our collective conscience. Actually it doesn't really. But one time while we were at the back of a theater waiting for Smell's head to pop out the back door, we daydreamed about arriving at the gates of heaven, and St. Peter scrolling down his little profiles on us and saying "Well, you guys were--for the most part--good people. But this movie theater thing is just too much". Then he'd say, "But it's not enough to send you to Hell per se. I'll send you to like a Junior Varsity hell. Some place that's perpetually 99 degrees, not 4,000 degrees. Someplace miserable, but tolerable." "Oh sweet jesus..." we'd reply, "you're sending us back to Houston!")

But back to what's really important. What's really fantastic and full of adventure and grand. The story about Shipwreck Island! As I said earlier, there was no way we could convince The Saw that this was a wise use of band money.

Then we thought of something. By allowing us to stay in their beach house for three nights, Spinnaker saved us a bunch of money on hotel rooms. About $100. Why not blow it all on Shipwreck Island!? We'd use differently language of course. Instead of "blow it all on", we'd say "treat ourselves to". It's all about how we approach him, we decided. We couldn't act too excited or gung ho (which would be hard. Smell and I were pretty well amped at the mere possibility of it all). We'd have to mention it as a kind of passing fancy. A "hey, what do you think man?"

He shut us down. Firmly. Then a strange thing happened. He came out of the bathroom 10 minutes later and said softly, "I could be convinced". He then made us explain to him again why we thought he should permit this seemingly heinous misuse of funds. All we could come up with was a kind of pathetic "'cause it'd be fun." Unbelievably--and I do mean unbelievably--it did the trick. What a coup! Smell and I could not believe it. We were going to Shipwreck Island! And we were going in five minutes...

(To be Continued...)

Unrelated news flash: We are back in Austin and have a show this Friday @ Rockin' Tomato. Our friends from NYC "Fortress of Attitude" play at 9:30, and we play at 11pm. ALL AGES. Fortress of Attitude is a hilarious, brilliant, and absurd band possessed of a high level of musicianship and a goal worthy or your appreciation and support. Here is their bio:

Fortress of Attitude is a ragtag band of rock extremists, willing to spread rock and roll through ANY MEANS NECESSARY.

When the four founding members of Fortress of Attitude (Bomb Threat, Sniper Kitty, Butch Deadlift and Dr. Genius) were thrust together in the infamous rock work camps of Country Radio City, they vowed if they ever found a way out, they would dedicate their lives to absolute rock liberation. It wasnt long before Dr. Genius assembled a master escape plan, and the quartet fled to safety in the sewers beneath Rocktropolis, the last free city in the Union. There, they erected their mighty Fortress of Attitude, welcoming all those who still believe in the freedom of rock.

From the Fortress, this group of radical insurgents coordinates tactical strikes wherever rock is oppressed in an effort to spread their doctrine of a free rock society.

Thank you for joining the fight. You are a dutiful soldier and will be rewarded handsomely upon the liberation of rock and roll. To find out how you can further help the resistance, please visit www.foamissioncontrol.com. See you on the march!

JUNE 28, 2007 -

Dear Jack,

So before I hit you with the recap of the mini-golf game in Panama City Beach, let me first brief you on our crappy time in Atlanta, or as I hate to call it, “The A-T-L”. (I don’t know when this trend started—referring to cities by spelling out their airport abbreviations—but I’m not down with it for some reason. People do it with Austin, too. “The A-T-X”? Austin is such a beautiful name, why must we corrupt it so?)

Anyway, we got to the club in ATLANTA, moseyed into the door (past a sign telling patrons that sleeveless shirts and backwards hats were not allowed—??), found the booker and asked about set-times and load-in:

Bonesaw: “Hey man, I’m Bonesaw from Full Service”

Booker: “Awwww…..awww dude……shit…..I totally forgot you guys were coming”

Awesome! So Beavis decided the best he could do was give us a 9:30-10:15 slot, since he’d promised the headliner the 10:30pm-2am slot. (That’s a 4 and a half hour slot for anyone who’s counting).

It’s all good though, shit happens like this sometimes. At least the sound-guy did a killer job, and though I thanked him twice from the stage, I’d like to again extend my gratitude for scrubbing the microphones with a toothbrush covered in Listerine. I’ve never seen anyone do that before, but it makes total sense. Those things get nasty.

Despite the