27 June 2010
14 June 2010
Stayed 2 nights at our new friend Dean's honest-to-Jehu farm in semirural Leighton Buzzard (which is a town, and somehow not the name of a forgotten 70's British metal band). Made peace with cows, played sherpa with sheep, grilled mackerel and pork shoulder and adopted croquet, or our own version of it, until long after dark, and again at the crack of dawn. Didn't watch any World Cup. It made us feel good.
Now we're in Wolverhampton, scene of our last show with Band of Horses. They're dudes of the best variety - genuine, beer-battered country-fried ones - and we wish them the best of luck on their journey.
10 June 2010
09 June 2010
07 June 2010
We have to cryogenically freeze Jared before every show to prevent chop deterioration. It's on our rider.
Irish Sea. Leprechauns, Lucky Charms, etc., etc.
John, our moral support agent and driver, view'd through Malahide Castle. While built in the 12th century and occupied by the same family for 800 years, it's frozen in 1975, when the old lady that lived there alone retired to Tasmania. Plush carpeting, wallpaper, the musty smell of isolation in the 1970's. We played American football on the front lawn. Tim/Jared 28, Rob/Will 21.
04 June 2010
Otherwise, while we did get to taste the National Canned Beverage of Scotland - Irn Bru (pictured below) - which tastes exactly like bubble gum from a pack of last year's Topps baseball cards, we didn't manage to get thee to a chippie for another Glasgow classic, the deep fried Mars Bar. Because what donuts are to Chinese restaurants in LA, deep fried Mars Bars are to fish-n-chippies in Glasgow. As in hey, we got this deep fryer, might as well use it.