People,

What a frigging weekend!

Friday we loaded up the band van and made a mad rain-soaked dash for New York City. We got to the club just on time and pounded our way through a blistering set of what many critics have referred to as "post hardcore non-screamo eroto-rock." We had a great turnout as well, so thanks to everyone who made the trip.

Saturday we beat our way downtown for a rare afternoon all-ages rock fest. Jordan and I were both very hungover, so we each drank three liters of water in an hour. Now, I don't know if you've ever done that yourself, but three liters of water in an hour water equals a lot of peeing. Luckily the club hadn't cleaned the urinals since approximately 1497, so I wasn't exposed to an eye-peeling throat searing pee stink everytime I made the trip. Oh wait....

Saturday night I was lucky enough to be put up by engineer extraordinaire Timmy B. at his swank Brooklyn pad. I took a little Tylenol PM for the head, watched The Quiet American and hit the air mattress hard. It ruled.

And yesterday....we finally finished this god damn record and, folks, it's really good. It was a lot of work but I'm very proud of it. When we finished up we were all so giddy that we had a couple beers and watched super producer Mike show us what he's learned in belly-dancing class before we hit the road.

On the way home we all bonded over a good old fashioned sex talk. Gordon's number one lady Karen was with us and she got a maybe too close look into the minds of men. But, as Tommy Lee might say, it was all good. It was especially all good when Karen and I became "beer brothers" by splitting one on Interstate 84. And people, that's a bond for life.