GARB is a Pillow-Head.

Josh drove something like 13 hours this weekend. London > Manchester > Dorking > London. At least half of that driving was hungover and off the back of about 3 hours of disturbed sleep. Hero. Thanks Josh, I'll get a driving license before this band is done, I swear.

I have this friend at work, I don't think he really gets our band, he talks about getting "backstage" and "getting tickets in advance" and "groupies". I wish he could have seen us when we were driving to Dorking after the Madchester show and the subsequent afterparty at Kierans house. Josh has his head slumped on one shoulder, eyes fixed hard on the bit of the road that seems to be in focus, fighting off the inevitable. Joe is well-gone in the back of the van after sleeping on a cushion-less sofa, hood up, eyes sinking. I'm drinking as much water as I can so I might have a hope of singing that night between dozing off and rubbing my face back to life. Bidder is in the back with a sleeping bag around his face, pen all over his face, puke on his breath. PJ is napping and generally feeling close to ok because he actually managed to sleep. We all have dumb shit written across our knuckes and acid building in our stomaches. I wish my work friend could have seen us then. Any ideas he had of us being rock-stars would have vanished quickly, we clearly are not cut out for this shit.

Maybe it's best he never finds out.

Anyway, Dear Landlord are awesome and Kieran and his flatmates are also awesome for letting us all come over and party to classic punk rock anthems until every beer was drunk, 50% of all showers had sick in them and 2 people had been wrestled into tapping out. Good times. Good times. We're done till K Fest this weekend, where we will be fresh and ready. If you see my work friend, tell him I'll meet him backstage and I'll leave his tickets at the box office.

Laters.

Dan

Apologies, i have none