All Good Indians are Tame

Joe's still bugging me to go to Puerto Rico. Umm, no. Can't pay me enough. There are a few people it's just not worth the cost of working for.

I have to go home on Sunday. :(

Anyone else run into a guy by the name of Necrobutcher? I think he's from Sweden or someplace. What a freak. Rather large chip on his shoulder, would probably be interesting to find out his story. In a land of drunk, angry freaks he is certainly angry.

A bit of weirdness: So was chatting a bit to TS and we got talking about shows we've been too and I mentioned Kevin had seen him and JB a few years back. Big deal. I go off on a run and what's on the radio when I first turn it on? Damn Yankees. I think God, or whoever's up there, is playing a giant joke on me.

But sometimes it's not a joke. Admittedly, it's a fucked up business and I've hung up on a few people who've called simply because I've not believed it was actually them on the other end, thinking it was a prank. FH actually called today, so I know yesterday wasn't a joke. Still high as a kite over landing that gig. Been loving that band since forever and I'm still amazed I'm going to work for them. I'm not *that* good, last year on the road proved that. In the studio, sure, maybe, but live is a completely different trip. I was trained for studio work, not sure how I really fell into all this live stuff. I have been using the "Jeff" icon quite a bit, haven't I? Wonder if Dave and his woman got tickets, last time I saw her she was in a Reel to Reel shirt.

Back to work.

Exploding Livers

Well, it's Rob again, at least for the Sweden Rock Fest. Pete, get well soon!

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Had an email from the lovely Batttttty and thought I'd share it with you...

A scientific expedition disembarks from its plane at the final outpost of civilization in the deepest Amazon rain forest. They immediately notice the ceaseless thrumming of native drums. As they venture further into the bush, the drums never stop, day or night, for weeks.
The lead scientist asks one of the natives about this, and the native's only reply is
"Drums good. Drums never stop. Very bad if drums stop."

The drumming continues, night and day, until one night, six weeks into the trip, when the jungle is suddenly silent. Immediately the natives run screaming from their huts, covering their ears.

The scientists grab one boy and demand "What is it? The drums have stopped!"

The terror-stricken youth replies "Yes! Drums stop! Very bad!"

The scientists ask "Why? Why? What will happen?"
Wide-eyed, the boy responds, " . . . BASS SOLO!!!"

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Curly Spice has a benefit show coming up, so if you're in the Cockermouth (that's not a joke) region stop out for a good cause.



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Larry Berringer died a week or so ago from a heart attack.

He used to be a truck driver (back in the day) but most people probably knew him as a fork op at venues such as the Rogers Center (Sky Dome) or the Molson Amphitheatre.

Memorial services will be held at:

Giffen-Mack Funeral Home Cremation Centre
2570 Danforth Avenue Toronto
on Sunday, March 22nd from 1pm-4pm.