Jan 30, 2006

MPLS, Chi-town and Philly (From the TPC tour Jan/Feb 06')

Wow, where to start on our release parties? One of the most intense, crazy, exciting, and fun nights of our entire lives. To hear that the ID show sold out in 45 minutes is completely mind-blowing and awesome. A huge thank you to everyone and anyone that came out and partied with us Our love for the Twin Cities is usually pretty strong, but we fell in love all over again on Friday -- thanks dudes.

Thanks to Adam from the STNNNG and P.O.S. for guest-appearing with us on a few tracks, thanks to Doomtree for helping with the encore at the ID show, thanks to Syd and Steve from Frenchkiss for flying out be a part of the night, thanks to Andy the soundguy and the world's surliest asshole you'll ever fall in love with, thanks to Alison, Brittany, Erin, Todd, Dave, and Danielle for helping make the confetti cannons and night-ending balloon drop possible.

A truly epic night capped by an after-party of shotgunned beers and passionate drunk talk till 6 in the morning.

The next day we managed to scrape ourselves off the floor and all piled into Big Red. We headed through some blustery-ass rain to Chicago for the first show of the tour.

The show was with our Kansas City and Chicago homies, The Life and Times and Narrator, who both rule hard. Check them out. All the bands played awesome, the place was packed, many beers were had, we kicked it with our old friends, and much awesomeness ensued.

It's hard for us at this point to remember much about the Chicago show. Not cause we were crazy drunk or something, but cause we got to the show at 9:00, the bands played, and then we all piled back into the van to drive 14 hours through the night to make it to Philadelphia for our show the next night. Stupid, we know, but it had to be done.

We got to Philly in the afternoon on Sunday and proceeded to head to Geno's for world-famous Philly cheesesteaks. For the second straight trip, TPC was exposed to the seedy underbelly of right-wing Philly politics. Huge posters up all over the restaurant proclaiming that they did not sell "Frenchfries," but did indeed sell "Freedom Fries" and that if you wanted to order food there you had to speak English, "America's language."

Either way, we all put hot sauce on our sandwiches that proceeded to seriously shred the interiors of our mouth into acid dust. Not cool, dudes.

The show was at the Khyber, an awesome little venue just outside downtown with a kickass bartender named Paul. We got our drink on, and our smoke on, and played a set to a small but mighty crowd. Thanks to the Failed Alliance for letting us borrow an amp and for ruling.

We decided after the show that it would be a great idea to drive to a cheap motel and drink beers and jump around on beds, so we did that. However, the motel actually turned out to be a small portal into hell.

There were stains under the bed and on the wall that defied description and gravity. The air-conditioner almost fell off the wall like a hundered times. Shadow figures lurked in all corners of the parking lot. Strange noises. Later in the night, some area stray cats banded together to seriously try and push open the door to our hotel room by banging on it with their heads and meowing. Matt at several points turned into a demon, a dark apparition, a taloned shape-shifter. We lost our faith in the world, humanity, and each other.

We have never been more scared on tour in our entire lives, and it was decided that this night was officially fucked up.

We woke up the next morning glad to be alive and to retreat from the grips of death's dark talons.

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