2002-05-07 - 7:42 a.m.
Ok ok, I haven't updated in a while. I've been getting emails from folks telling me that if I don't update, they can't live vicariously through me. Or they just wanna know what's happening. Here's a quick update. I'm in Holland, I was sick, another chest infection. I didn't feel like writing about being sick on the road again. There is nothing worse than not being able to smoke in the land of hashish. I haven't had a cig in a week. Quitting has been a nagging little yapdog in the back of my mind. Other than that, I've been travelling, playing and jerking off alot.
For those of you who have given me shit about not updating, I appreciate your concern. But I gotta tell you, at the risk of pissing you off, if I don't feel like writing - I'm just not gonna do it. If I start trying to force it, whether it's song, poetry, diary, whatever, I'll kill it. Once you turn it into work, it's over. Finito. All of those writers whose work is work, suck. It's the ones who play with the words, who paint the sky. I've been doing this diary for a while now, if it ever becomes work or I feel like I HAVE to update, I might as well shove a timecard up my ass.
Ok, enough. Now some random images from this tour. Lots of boats. Ferries from Germany to Denmark. Long ass cruise ship type ferries from Denmark to Norway and back. Norway, the land of tens. Good God, the women there... Lord have mercy. You just wouldn't believe it. It's as if all of the models have been going to Norway to secretly breed. Everyone there is so beautiful it makes your heads spin. Matt and I started singing to the tune of California Dreaming - All the chicks are tens/And the guys are gay/When the fuck is sound check?/Jorgen didn't say/There's porno at the hotel/But I'm too cheap to pay... This stupidity was brought on by the fact that we had no tunes in the car on some seriously long drives, 10 - 12 hours. On the way and back from Norway, (each a two day trip, drive all day, boat all night, drive all day again) Christina, Matt and I kept our sanity by singing every fucking song we knew and working the theme "Brent is gay" into it. Now we're not dissing homosexuals or even Brent but it just turned into a stupid game where we would end up laughing our asses off for hours at a time. Poor Brent, riding in the other van, had no idea that he was the target of our silliness. It got to the point where we could set each other up for punchlines, especially during Black Sabbath's "War Pigs". You could sing "Man, this lemon is so bitter..." and the next guy would sing "Brent will stuff it up your shitter." Ok you had to be there but rhyming "misting" with "fisting" at 160 kilometers an hour, is quite a hoot. Ok, I feel better today and I'm going to Amsterdam.
