Day 1: Austin to Roswell – July 14, 2010
We finally got the hell out of Dodge. Austin, that is. And only three hours and fifteen minutes late. Not bad. We’re headed toward Albuquerque with an overnight stay in Roswell. Fucking aliens, TBD. Tomorrow we push on to Albuquerque. I don’t really know much about Albuquerque aside from they shorten it to ABQ, it’s filled with New Mexicans and is known as Duke City. Not sure if that has anything to do with John Wayne. Oh yeah, and Albuquerque is where Bugs shoulda taken that left turn.
I left Suckerfish, my only surviving guinea pig, in charge of selling weed for me while I’m out of town. They are social animals, these pigs, so it always saddens me to see one alone in a cage because I know that it would rather be with a partner… even an abusive one. Unfortunately, Suckerfish was left in this very position when Scaredy Cat died a couple of days ago. It was last Friday, in fact… same day as the launch party for our tour. So, even though I may have been hobnobbing with the big wigs and laughing all loud and haughty with y’all up on the roof of Mia Cevallos’ apartment complex, deep in side I was suffering from the loss of my all time favorite. She has now joined Snickers in guinea pig heaven and I can only assume they’ve fucked about a hundred and fifty times already. Anyway, I hate to make light of this because Scaredy was not only my favorite pet, but she was also the living symbol of a time in my life where I was very happy with a woman. Several women, actually. Despite all of this, I fear that Suckerfish is suffering even more than I am from the tragedy, so I’m hoping that her new career as a drug dealer will at least take her mind off of things. We’ve set up an intricate system of communications, established a brutal hierarchy within our organization, and I’m now running things from inside the prison of Bob’s Toyota Prius, just like The Aryan Nation or MS-13.
So, as The Age of the Guinea Pig draws to a close, I’ve forsaken my family and run off with Bob on this film tour in a desperate attempt to bring some sense of accomplishment back into my life. Before my departure, I made sure to leave all of my personal relationships in shambles… I wouldn’t have it any other way. You see, I emit a type of radiation. You can’t see it, but its effects are obvious over time. I can just sit in a room with shit… equipment, furniture, you name it… and it will all just start to break down around me. I have an especially powerful influence on automobiles in this respect. Unfortunately, this particular grade of emission is also harmful to humans, and probably even the very fabric that holds our society together.
I’m interested to see what strangers think about the movie, Total Badass. I’ll be quite upfront with you and admit that I’ll be measuring the film’s success on whether or not I get laid at these screenings. Even though I think Bob did a great job putting the movie together, and it might be up to muster from an artsy fartsy standpoint, I wonder what people will think of me in particular when it is all said and done. On one hand, I have these visions of massive roller orgies, but then on the other I wouldn’t be surprised if we have trouble finding a place to stay after the screenings. I’m in the market for women who like a big dicked, foul mouthed felon and can only hope that the rest of the country is just like Austin, Texas.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the people whom I begged for money before leaving town. These include John from Elysium/Valhalla, Jason from Jackalope/Chupacabra, Nordstrom from Club Deville, Steve From Headhunters and Dave from Trophy’s. I didn’t actually get any ad money from Dave, I just sort of took 50 bucks off of the 250 that I owe him. That’s right, I took money from a dying man. Also, I got some help from my friends at Affordable Sound and my sister gave me a hundred bucks, re-establishing the inter-family pecking order more to her liking. Talk to y’all soon. CHAD
1:58 AM (technically, Day 2)
We drove 500+ miles and made it to Roswell. Filmed some clips along the way. There was a badass electrical storm all around Roswell. We’ll see how we do with editing or at least, uploading any of the stuff we shot. So far, Roswell seems to be a one trick pony: bareback riding that alien into the ground. Granted, we rolled in around midnight and most the town was tumbleweeds. We’ll see what the morn reveals. Also of note: there doesn’t seem to be a bar in Roswell. I’m betting there is, but we ain’t seen it.
We landed at the luxurious Frontier Motel on Main Street. The neon is missing an O and T, so I guess it’s the Frontier MEL. It’s lacking an Alien theme, but makes up for it by looking and smelling like a filthy shithole that’s been anally probed many a time in the past. The very recent past, judging by the circumstantial evidence. However, there is an alien figure made out of junk in the lobby. And no, that’s not a shitty comment on the foreigner manning the front desk, you xenophobe bastard, you. There is an actual statue of an alien made of trash. It is dolled up in a nice pro-America red-white-and-blue motif. The message might be a bit mixed. Either that or I’m dense. Maybe both.
So, oh yeah, here’s the tour journal. Both Chad and I will be contributing to it. He’ll chime in later, I suppose. Right now he’s crashed the fuck out, exhausted from riding shotgun on a nine and a half hour road trip. UPDATE: we stuck Chad’s entry in Day 1’s blog. Insert insertion-pun here.