Throwing up all over Smiths Olde Bar

We played Smiths Olde Bar in Atlanta, Georgia last night with Calhoun and an Appalachian music band from Athens called Sweet-Tooth Simpleton. It was an exceptional show all around, with both Calhoun and Sweet-tooth playing the best shows I have ever seen from either band. Of course, that was the only time I have ever seen Sweet-tooth, but still, great show.

Some notable moments from the night:

1. Noticing the extreme dedication and hard work that someone had put into writing different band names with a reference to poop in the title ALL OVER the green room backstage.
Examples:

Frank Crappa
Rage Against the Poop
Kenny LOGgins
Sgt Peppers Lonely Poop Club Band

These are merely 4 of the literally HUNDREDS of references to poop backstage. We salute your dedication to your craft, whoever you are, strange poop obsessed weirdo.

2. Brett accidentally poisoning himself with gas station amphetamines.

Due to the extremely long hours we have been driving, Marshall picked up something called "80 Hour Energy" from a gas station. It is a spray container that you spray under your tongue, that claims to give you limitless energy with no twitching or crash.

I would dispute those claims, as just prior to the show, I found Brett sleeping in his keyboard case backstage, both twitching AND crashing from taking some 80 hour energy just prior to arriving at the venue. It looked like the show might be doomed, but Brett pulled it together big time, and put on an awesome show - dancing and jamming through the sickness.

Only after the show, did I find him on the back staircase of the venue puking his brains out. He claimed he threw up 6 times, but personally it looked more 16 or 17 times to me. He got a good nights rest last night though, and hopefully will recover for the rest of the tour. Way to be a badass Brett!

3. Me decorating my drumkit in my own blood.

At some point during the early part of the show last night I must have hit my hand with a drumstick, because I looked down at the end of Everyone's A Neutron Bomb, wondering why my hands felt really slick on the drumsticks, and noticed that they were literally covered in my own blood. It's strange, because it appears now to be a minor wound, but it would NOT STOP bleeding. I had to run offstage after the next song to get some towels from the bathroom, so I could wipe myself off between songs. Marshall then told the crowd that I have aids (I don't have aids, ladies), which I am not sure was the best way to make them stick around. It all worked out though, because we played a great show, and now my drumkit looks like some sort of modern art masterpiece.




When the other guys get up, we will head out to South Carolina, to see what tonight has in store for us. We will try to keep you updated, thanks for following us on our adventures!

-Travis