Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Firstly - this might end the election contest right here.

This is historically bad. I never thought it possible, but Sarah Palin is even worse than advertised - she knows literally nothing about anything. Within thirty seconds, Katie Couric is so pissed off at being asked to treat this complete dumbass as though she might possibly be fit for the office of Vice President that she let's the claws come out a little bit ("I'm just gonna ask you one more time..." with a dirty, dirty stare). Poor Palin can't even muster competent-sounding smooth-talk; instead, she just repeats badly rehearsed versions of whatever her handlers told her to say 30 minutes prior, with all the prepositions removed. If you listen really close during her pauses, you can hear the gears turning: "Think Sarah - think! What were you told to say?" The Biden-Palin debate is going to be the last three minutes of Commando brutal.

With that said, this might actually be my favorite news story, and certainly my favorite picture, of the year. I love it - McCain's people are setting up all these photo-ops to make people believe Palin could actually carry on a conversation with a world leader, and all the Pakistanis can do is stare at her tits. Maybe they're not seeing something we don't...not see? The shit-eating grin on Zardari's face is priceless - if he gets any happier, there's gonna be a stain on the rug.

Anyway, I think the world has spoken - Sarah Palin is a joke.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Tour Notes #3

We're waking up in my new favorite city on Earth - Chicago. I'd never been here before our first tour last summer but now - on our fourth time through - I'm completely, totally enamored. We stayed with our manager yesterday and got the full treatment - we went swimming in Lake Michigan (unbelievably clear and warm, yet kind of unsettling for it's total lack of salinity - coming from the Coast, that shit seems weird); got high and rode longboards around the neighborhood at 11 at night; darted across town to catch the encore of Delta Spirit's show at Schuba's (spectacular...maybe the best band in America at this point); ducked into an authentic late-night jazz club where a blind organ player was absolutely destroying it (we were told at the door to keep it down while the band played); and then got maybe the best enchiladas I've had in my life at 2am. All we needed was to eat deep-dish until we shit ourselves at a Cub's game and the quest would have been complete. As much as I hate winter, I would buy a big-ass coat and move here in a heartbeat.

Just heard Billy cut himself on some glass on the beach and might need stitches...and we have to be in Rock Island, IL - 3 hours west of here - by 4pm. This comes after him breaking a rib on The Hurler at King's Dominion the day before we left for tour. He is a walking disaster.