• Denton

    I’m in Denton. I ate a breakfast taco this morning and it was good. We left from Nashville yesterday. A butterfly flew in the van from the highway and hit Luke in the chest. I was playing Playstation and stopped playing to get that shit on video. It lived to the gas station and he set it in some weeds. I don’t know if insects regenerate fluid. I saw a rooster at the gas station walking around.

    We pulled into Denton about 1:30 last night and went to the bar and got a tall one and caught up with folks. Me and Chris Flemmons hung out late at his house and then he went to Whataburger and I fell asleep.

    There’s pretty girls on campus.

  • Starting Tour

    I’m in Nashville getting ready to leave for tour. Luke and Kathy just pulled up in their van and have started napping. They just bought this van that has a tv/vcr/playstation 2 and a bed. Janet’s getting her shit together right now. I’m excited about van party. This is going to be a fucking cool adventure.

    Speaking of cool, I visited my brother on his birthday yesterday and went to the mall with my family for lunch. I rode the carousel with my niece, Maddie, who is 3. She cried earlier because I wasn’t watching the Tigger Movie with her even though I was in the room checking email. She rode my shoulders in the mall and my neck felt wet and played hide and seek in the Electronic Boutique where I was looking for a playstation present for Luke.

    Now I’m ready to rock the stage and make history for myself.

  • Glastonbury Truck Break

    We’re getting towed.

    The clutch went out . Nina’s cafe phone won’t allow the incoming calls we need to keep in touch with AA (the European AAA). We hung out in Nina’s, drinking coffee and then buying some breakfast.

    Nina: “This is the hottest it’s been since ’81. We’re definitely having a heat wave.”

    Clarke: “Yeah, a heat wave where you have to wear a sweater at night.”

    Good show, old chap.

    I hung out with some kids on the lot yesterday. Real sweet kids: Caylin, 7 and Amber, 4, I think. Very smart and very nice kids.

    Amber to me: “You’re very, very, very, very cheeky.”

    Caylin to me: “You don’t know English very well, do you?”

    “Amber, do you want this peach or not?”

    “I don’t want it.”

    “Shall I eat it?”


    Just like those over-polite chipmunks.

    Caylin ran off and came back with a fake cigarette that he got at the “Joke Shop”.

    I met Churchill’s granddaughter yesterday, also. I shit you not.

  • Glastonbury Campfire Talk

    I haven’t seen a good campfire in a while. It’s nice to look at.

    Yesterday, I did a good show and Toby and Andrew came running back stage to hug me and then I played for them. Sylvia and Clarke came, too.

    After, I saw the coolest dance I’d ever seen. It was a Russian Group called “Black Sky White”. Fuckin’ amazing. It was like Brothers Quay, stop-motion animation (like the Tool video), except live.

    Around the campfire, someone came by to tell us they had just seen The Madagascar Institute (some friends of mine from Brooklyn) who had a fort made from metal scraps with fire cannons mounted at the top. When he mentioned they had a game of tug-of-war

    a lady who had fallen asleep by the fire suddenly awoke and said in my direction, “Winning wars is like winning an earthquake.”

    What did I do? Where’s my beer? I’ve got some new guilt to wash down.

  • Glastonbury, Thursday 12:20

    We’re rearranging the truck. Actually, I’m reading. Someone is playing shit on the PA that’s worse than magician music-a cross between the Ferris Bueller “Oh Yeah”, Spyrogyra, and Jan Hammer on one shitty loop.

    We parked on the road last night because they weren’t letting even performers in to set up camp. I woke to engines starting so I woke the others and we drove through at least 2-3 more checkpoints (we’d already been through 3-4 the night before).

    We drove through the festival to the performers’ camp:

    -outdoor shower,

    like in M*A*S*H, almost

    -outdoor shitters

    -not a PortaJohn, with a shit pitfall of 10 feet from the toilet seat.

    -each stall has a poster titled: “SHIT” with a plea to wash your hands to prevent disease and not throw rubbish in.

    We got a decent spot and then decided to chance losing it to haul our props to the circus tent. Hopefully, they’ll let us stay here in the circus lot – the PortaJohn is high-end and the shower is top notch.

  • Corn Mo’s Beer Shower

    Me and Clarke and Sylvia got into Waltrop about 6. Nobody that worked at the hotel spoke English but it’s our fault for not knowing German. It was a family run business and the Dad was a good ol’ jolly German but the Mom looked at us with some sort of judgement.

    We took our stuff to the room and came back down to the hotel’s restaurant because we were too tired to fuckaround with looking for some other place.

    I can’t read German good so I got the special hoping it would be so.

    It was excellent. Always get the special. It was some sort of pork with potatoes and kraut salad. I don’t mean to toot my horn or jinx myself but sometimes I can pick the right thing off a menu.

    Clark and Sylvia didn’t have the foresight I did although Clark is one of the best cooks I’ve ever met. He cooked out of his truck one night and made curried rice and salad and had made his own dressing.

    We got beer because we were in Germany and because. The Daughter brought us some tall-glass beers and spilled one of them on me. She backed up in horror like she had really done it this time and said nothing.

    I wringed my shirt out into my glass to make her feel better.

    “It’s ok. It’s ok. See? I still have some.”

    The Dad laughed because my jonny-quick humor transcends language.

    The Mom kept looking at us like I did wrong.

    The Daughter brought me another beer and I drank it both ways- through my mouth and through my skin. I got no towel. Nothing. Just my extra beer and a look of horror and a couple of laughs. Surely when the laughter goes down someone would say, “Haben eine towel fur yer bier, Herr Mo.”

    The end of our stay at this hotel brought a large argument. The festival was supposed to pay for 3 but the hotel said it was for 2. This explains the angry looks from Mom all weekend. They charged us for an extra person’s breakfast and shower for the weekend. Forty Euros for a shower!

    They call a shower a douche and Clark argued with them saying, “What about Corn Mo’s Beer Douche?”

    They went down on their price but he still got the festival to pay for it.

    German food is awesome but a mute girl’s charm goes only so far.

  • A Plate of Bark

    Canker Jo-Jo Elf was sittin’ pretty in Kansas City when
    Delicious Sword-Sword Cleric swathered up and said,
    “Tuesday’s the day, Jo-Jo.”
    “For what?”
    “For letting down my guard and allowing myself to sit and try
    pork bbq for the first time. Then, I’m gonna pour a glass of
    celebration and tilt my head back to good times.”
    “Do I know you?”
    “You will Tuesday,” he chuckled. “And how.”
    Jo-Jo’s pretty sittin’ wasn’t settin’ well.

    Tuesday came and went and he never saw Sword-Sword.
    Wednesday morning came and a note made of dove wings hovered above
    like a message from a dragonfly:
    “Dear Jo-Jo,
    I was afraid and didn’t celebrate myself. I feel awful
    about not knowing you and not eating bbq. I looked at a
    wolf’s eye through the window and it instilled new fear about
    trying new things. I will sit in the dark today and play PS2.
    Best Wishes,
    Jo-Jo took the note and made it into an airplane. The airplane flew over
    the Atlantic and landed in a cabbage patch where a rabbit nibbled the
    edges and made it look like a pig.
    Another Tuesday came and Jo-Jo saw Sword-Sword.
    “I want to thank you, Jo-Jo. For everything.”
    “I made you this plate of bark.”

    c. 2003

  • Greenville, NC: no score

    On our way to Winston-Salem. We had fixed our trailer-a ball bearing was burning a groove in the axle. Last night, we played at Peasant’s Cafe in Greenville, NC. I was a little tired. this wa the town Magic Brian almost went home with the hot lady, Laura, back in April. She came to this show. She was the volunteer for a Magic Brian card trick and Brian kissed her hand as she left the stage.

    The kids screamed for me again-it ALWAYS feels good.

    During the straightjacket routine, one smart ass volunteer, who kept looking behind the back curtain, was trying to be clever on his hometown. The other guy was drunk and chained up Magic Brian’s and Keith’s necks.

    Afterwards, I signed a few autographs, including one to a girl who wanted me to take a picture of her with the circus. Without me in it. I don’t know.

    I wanted to go sleep at the hotel. Brian was going to hook up wand people bought beer for a party at the “hook up” lady’s house. I decided to go and Una went with me to check it out. I stayed after hearing Ween’s “White Pepper” album and they bought New Castle. Una left. I also stayed in case Brian had to leave.

    I enjoyed these folks. They were very nice. Brian asked Laura to dance and they swing danced while I drank and talked. Andrea tried to “sign language” that she couldn’t stay for the slumber party because Brian would be sleeping over. i told her to stay on the couch. The other roommate shared string cheese with me.

    As Magic Brian went behind the closed door to perform magic, I borrowed a book from the roommate because I wake up early and didn’t want to experience boredom in someone’s house. She loaned me David Sedaris’ “Holiday on Ice”. I read a few short stories the following morning. They were good. His sister is Amy Sedaris from “Strangers With Candy”. She’s really hot.

    Brian got no action save for second base and I got to read David Sedaris and drink Ssips Berry Tea and had more string cheese. Poor Brian.

  • Raleigh

    Last night we played in Raleigh and met up with Gary and Ian who are doing the article for Nerve Magazine. We played at a club called Kings. Everyone was real nice. Chris, the sound guy, was real good. They had a good jukebox- Bowie, Deep Purple, Prince, Brian Eno, Van Halen’s Fair Warning album . . . and cool video games though the Tempest machine was broken and so was the sit-down Star Wars game (the vectrix version).

    I got a good response in lieu of an atmosphere of dead spirits. It was hard to get the audience excited. I don’t know if they were uptight or tired or hot.

    Right now I want to jump out of the van and run through this traffic just up the dotted line on I-40 W. I don’t think I’m exciting enough for Gary, the writer for Nerve. Or hang out the door. He taped us at the mall today while we waited for Stephanie. Keith and Brian spinned rope.

    Lots of things were not so good last night. The glowing diablo was dropped for the first time and I was having a hard time with my accordion. The keys got stuck and my cord fell out of it during the plates act. Folks liked it though. We got a six-pack of Shiner and Rolling Rock for the hotel from the door guy who looked like a small Gene Simmons. We drank and watched Conan O’Brien.

    Today, Ian took pictures of us outside the Red Roof Inn. I did my stupid rocknroll poses. He did some of just Keith and Stephanie.

    We ate at IHOP and I’ve been uncomfortable since.

    Una bought two Springsteen tapes for her trip today because she rides by herself. Gary and Ian are riding with us right now. Shashana got laid off today. She likes it.

  • Winston-Salem, NC

    Last night, we played in Winston-Salem at the warehouse-The Wherehouse. I think it’s some kind of collective. I played real good. I felt on and played off the other performers well.

    We pied Brian cause it was his birthday. I messed up during Una’s second act because I was trying to tell Keith about a videographer.

    There is a building in Winston-Salem that was designed by the man who designed the Empire State Building. It’s a mini version of it.

    Today, I ate at Snook’s BBQ near Keith’s parents’ house.

    I had:

    Pork bbq

    3 deviled eggs

    Turnip greens (with pepper-vinegar sauce)

    Cabbage (with cornbread)

    Sweet tea

    and 2 yam sticks with cinnamon.

  • Burlington, VT

    Vermont is real pretty. We took the scenic route and went through a bunch of beautiful New England towns. In Bennington, I had lunch and ate “our favorite” which was apple bread with cream chees and then melon balls and other fruit and topped with Vermont cheddar. It was good.

    I’ve never played in Vermont and people screamed for me during “Busey Boy”. Even before I started playing. After a while it was a little embarrassing. I sold 13 cds and signed a bunch of autographs. It felt good. Real good. The “bearded lady” told me he heard good things from when he was in Austin.

    I love when shows go good. It’s the best feeling in the world.

  • New London, CT

    We’re on our way to pick up Magic Brian. I’m recovering from a bad fish lunch. I burped up lunch twice. Una got lucky with Sean who likes my name cause it relates to his tattoo of an Indian lady with corn and his daughter, Daisy Maize.

    Last night, I struggled and I wasn’t right on. I kept knocking off my noise makers and cd player off the table because of my cymbal crashes. I stood on a mall elevated stage. I didn’t fall off though. We did a good show and the folks liked it. The writer form Nerve magazine came. I signed a few autographs.

    I was afraid of the audience at first when Una declared that she had 1$ programs. Total silence. They warmed up though.

    We drank with the locals after the show backstage. We went to someone’s apartment and drank and played Scrabble. I was told that I said, “I think I’m gonna pass out,” and went to sleep in a chair and Una sang seven Corn Mo songs while I slumbered. She’s real good.

    I had a room to myself at the hotel and watched Big Daddy and Short Circuit II.

  • Cleveland and the Blair Witch

    We’re in Cleveland now. I”m seeing road signs for places I sent bags to for my old job. That bank, Charter One, was at the time their biggest client. I feel resolution meeting these towns with no attachment to my old job.

    We saw Blair Witch II in Cleveland. it was like a WB movie. Naked ladies dancing. We laughed a bit. It was what I expected it to be. I have terrible gas. maybe it was the Mexican food from lunch. I’m a terrible eater. I need to slow down. I weigh 180. I’m a fat ass. My ulcer is acting up.

    JOKE I made up:

    2 breakfast cereals walk into a bar and order beer. The bar keep says, “That’s awful.”

    The cereal says, “I’m sad.”

    The other cereal says, “Me, too.”

  • Tv Buddy List

    People I want to watch tv with:

    1. Corbett Sparks

    2. Ben Stiller

    3. Kevin Cronin

    4. Jeff Speedealer

    5. Not Kevin Cronin

    6. Not Vincent Gallo

    7. President Clinton

    8. My Dad

    9. One of my late dogs

    10. Maybe George Clooney

    11. Kevin Spacey

    12. My brother

    13. I feel bad for making my girlfriend watch tv all day unless she says she enjoys it.

    14. Nikki Sixx

    15. Maybe Mick Mars

    16. Chris Flemmons

    17. Matthew McConaughy

    18. Richard Kmietzch

    19. I want to go get pizza with Nikki Sixx.

    20. Huey Lewis maybe

    21. Test out James Belushi. I don’t know.

    22. Christopher Guest

    23. Martin Short

    24. Kid Rock

    25. Not ZZ Top

    26. Marilyn Manson

    27. Tv buddies don’t judge you for watching tv, but you can both feel bad for watching too much. Plus, no sports. That’s different than watching tv. Just shows. Good shows, bad shows. At least one family show like Family Ties.

    *Someday, if you win a lot of money, go to someone’s house and decorate the walls with beanie babies. Lots of beanie babies. With lots of hanging beanie baby holders-like shoe holders you hang on doors.

    Then, when your friend comes home say,

    “I won money!”

    28. The Bindlestiffs-but not all together. I feel like there may be on who doesn’t want to watch. Keith and Stephanie or Una and Magic Brian or Keith and Magic Brian or Una and Stephanie. One at a time would be good, too. The idea would be to watch VH-1 all day in the hotel room: “Behind the Music” marathon.


    Sunday-Brantford, Ontario

    I’ve got a sore throat. I felt like a cold yesterday, but now it’s sore throat. Last night, I drank with more Canadians, “Hey, guy!” Canadians. They were fun.

    I just kept drinking and eating cheese.

    Tanya, Rocket Johnny’s sister, gave her dog some cheese. It was a lot of cheese. He couldn’t take it all in one easy swallow.

    Earlier in the day we went to Rocket Johnny’s parents’ cottage. It’s all wood walls-like wood paneling but real wood. It had two small bedrooms, one bath, a sunroom, and a kitchen connected to the living room. Una, Magic Brian, Stephanie and I walked down the the beach on Lake Erie while Keith practiced throwing knives and tomahawks.

    I planted a branch in the sand and claimed Canada cause of the maple leaves on it. We found a dead bird and Magic Brian needed a wing for his act so Una ripped it off with her feet. Magic Brian later threw it away cause of the many maggots and the whole process of the ripping disconcerted him a bit.

    We met up with Rocket Johnny, John (his buddy), and the Wau Wau sisters up the beach. We watched the sun set quietly.

    Back at the cottage we had very large steaks, a good salad, and beer. Rocket Johnny’s mom made a cranberry relish for the steaks. Crazy Canadians always coming up with good things!



    I had a falafel pita and a coke for dinner. The theater was large and the seating was terraced with tables and chairs. The staff was real nice and served us really good beer. Kids were yelling “Corn Mo”, making up for the lack of patrons. I gave out my e-mail address to do phone shows.

    This was my first show with Una, the aerialist. I played an Evan Lurie song with the trapeze swing, called a “lira”, and a variation on a Cirque du Soleil song for the rope act which is called the “Cordalise”. She falls down the rope and catches herself before hitting the ground and I was totally on with the cymbal crashing at the end of her fall.

    I had poutine for the first time. It’s fries with brown gravy and cheese curds. Being in Canada is like a great “what if” or parallel universe. It’s just like the USA with subtle differences. The candy bars say Nestle or Cadbury but they also say things like Viking and hell I don’t know I should have written them down. And the speed limits are in kilometers. There was a guy at the show who looked and dressed like Geddy Lee-same hair with a blazer and a t-shirt. And I heard “Swangin'” on the radio. I haven’t heard that song in ten years. Hell, I’m an idiot and can’t write.

    At the end of the show, instead of blowing kisses I threw my fist in the air. I gave away a cd to the first person who talked to me and gave away two shirts to the staff.

    I woke up the next morning and everyone was working out in the hotel room. Magic Brian was doing push-ups against the wall. Una was doing sit-ups sideways. Keith and Stephanie were doing sit-ups. I went and made coffee and watched an episode of “Alf” without commercials.

    We left for rantford, Ontario, located between Toronto and Detroit. It’s the hometown of Wayne Gretzky and the late Phil Hartman, and Rocket Johnny.

  • YALE CABARET-New Haven, CT

    The last show was the best cause the drama students came back and wanted to see me and yelled. It was the best response and everybody or almost everybody sang along on “My Epilady”.

    Saturday morning I walked to the rotating drawbridge from our hotel. the houses were real old. It was nice that there was a sidewalk the whole way there. I smelled dead fish water and it was good. There waas a yard sale at the old folks home with a shopping basket full of clowns. I wanted to get Keith the “Emmet Kelly” ventriloquist doll but I figured he’s prbably sick of clown gifts and I was worried about money.

    We ate Mexican food for dinner during Yale’s 300th anniversary. I got a bbq chicken burrito and a coke. Keith didn’t eat because he needed to allow four hours before he swallows his swords. He used to swallow skewers and bring of pieces of apple.

    At 5:00 pm we saw the Gog/Magog Project, a play by a Yale student. It starred the son of the guy with the mustache from “Benson”. He was real good. His character had locked himself in a cage and performed shows at 8:00 every night for a year as an experiment on theater. He ends up staying fifteen years.

  • Omid Djalili- Iran’s comedian

    The most anticipated show was Omid Djalili, an Iranian comedian. Me and Nick got tickets three days ahead because they were selling out.

    I felt he was going to be the Middle Eastern version of Yakov “What a country!” Smirnov. I was gladly wrong.


    He started his show by playing the soundtrack to Mary Poppins. That was a good mood setter for the ambivalent.

    I laughed alot. Alot.

    He’s a big guy who does a good, unintentional Kathy Najimy. He started out, “I’ve been tired with my flight lessons and all.” Oh boy, here comes Yakov. But he was truly funny. He belly-danced and it was funny. I kept laughing. I don’t get many British references and there were many but I got some. I know Michael Fish does the weather on BBC. Now.

    “My wife is British and we have to compromise to make it work. She has come tonight with her sister-in-law. They are sitting in the back with veils.”

    I can’t remember everything but he ended his show with a nice message about Sept 11. And danced again.

  • The Dungeons of Edinburgh

    I went to the Edinburgh Dungeon today. I enjoy the tourist-trap, horror theme attractions but this sucked ass. I love going to Ripley’s and reading all the stuff about wooden penis sheathes, shrunken heads, and shipwreck stories. This place had those things but about torture devices. As I was reading them I was pushed along by the cloaked tour guides to be guided along to the next horror show.

    I wish it were worth it to move along but it wasn’t. It was like a show at a renaissance fair. Scary mixed with not funny. I just wanted to look at torture devices.

    Then came the new boat ride called “WitchFynder”. I got a little excited with all the what you can’t do hullaballo (don’t put your arms outside the boat shit). It felt a bit like the Willi Wonka boat ride and the anticipation of going into the next room on the boat was awesome. It was dark and the wind blew and storms were coming and there was lightning.

    I’m supposed to beware of cannibal witches in this place but there are three scenes to look at in this immobile boat: above, the three hooded figures who were talking because the light blinked to each word; port, something in a cage, I think people eating people; starboard, I’m not sure because the lights were so dim. And then, it was over.

    I liked the mannequin who sneezed on me with Black Plague.

    Then, there was a cannibal boy. He talked about eating people with his family and said he wanted to suck my eyes out. He was pretty entertaining. And there was a good multimedia of shadows behind him killing people as he told the story of his historical people eating family. What delight!

    It ended with mannequins talking (lights blinked on them with their words)at a guillotine show. Sucky shit suckkkkkkk.

    Oh, there was the hooded guide who made fun of the kid who had a sweatshirt that said, “Protected by Witchcraft”. Good show.

    I bought a ceramic skull for Harry.

  • I’m stupider

    I ate a nice sit down dinner of fried haddock, peas, mash potatoes, a bit of haggis, tatties, and beer. Good.

    I saw a sketch comedy team that was a bit too much on the college humor. They did a Meatloaf parody but it wasn’t funny and pretty much just made fun of his Lose Weight Exercise. Fuckin stupid. Meatloaf is greatness and you better know how to make fun of him. Shit, I don’t know.

    Also, if you are going to make political humor, fucking know what you’re talking about and don’t make self-aware sound bites.

    I’m no funny guy but I watch enough funny to know funny.

    And if you’re gonna make fun of Dawson’s Creek, well, you can fuck that up if you wish but don’t.

    I can’t think very good. You’ve made me stupider.