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Vancouver was fucking amazing

It’s 11:30am and I’m 30,000 feet above the earth flying my favorite way; all hopped up on Starbucks and the devil’s cabbage with my ipod engaged and my laptop on.
I’m listening to this Puerto Rican singer named Don Omar that I found out about on the internet. I like listening to foreign language music sometimes when I write.
Most of the time I listen to 60’s and 70’s rock, but sometimes I like to have some shit playing that’s in a language that I don’t understand at all so it’s all just cool sounds. I have no idea what their message is.
He might be saying a bunch of stupid shit that I would find annoying if I understood it, but since I can’t it’s just good music and indecipherable mouth noises adding the extra flavor to this THC/caffeine creative speedball I’ve got going on.

The airplane is one of my favorite places to write, and the only time I ever write when I’m not alone. When I’m writing at home it’s usually late at night when I’m by myself and everyone is asleep, but there’s something to be said for the type of inspiration you can get when you’re flying through the clouds, shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of strangers. You can get some extra sparks from their weird energy, and you never know what you’re going to find in the seats around you. Like for instance, there are two teenage Middle Eastern kids in front of me, and they’re watching a video on their laptop of one of those shitty 1980s break dancing movies, and in their native tongue they’re dissecting each move like they’re watching the fucking Zapruder film.

I’m completely distracted by them, because I can’t figure out if I should find this funny or horrifying. I’m wondering if whatever country they’re from didn’t allow dancing until recently, and now maybe all the cool kids in Pakistan are just learning the robot.
That would be kind of funny, but the other possibility is the scary one; that somehow breakin’ and poppin’ has had a resurgence in popularity with the youth of today. That could easily have happened. I’m old and completely out of the loop. There are gigantic bands that have sold out arenas all over the country and I’ve never even heard of them or heard a single one of their songs. I never listen to the radio, and I had never heard of either Chris Brown or Rihanna before he allegedly smacked her around. It’s entirely possible that I missed this too.

Either possibility could be correct, but if the kids of today are looking to repeat the horrible mistakes of 20 years ago I think we’re in real trouble.
That longing to return to the retarded past can only be born of some collective, subconscious, internal desire to try to turn back the clock on humanity and halt our obvious progression towards the inevitable zombie apocalypse of 2012.
The New Kids on the Block are touring again, and according to US weekly they’re doing quite well. I certainly don’t want to start a panic, but it might be a good time to stock up on water and bullets.

I had two amazing gigs this past weekend in Canada. Friday night was at a place called The Element nightclub in Victoria, and Saturday was at the River Rock Casino in Richmond. We had two options to get to Victoria, which is on Vancouver Island; either we could take one of those scary fucking propeller planes that feel like you’re riding inside the bowels of a metal dragonfly, or we could ride the ferry.
I chose the ferry, and it was an excellent call.
It took a little longer to get there, but the scenery was awesome.
I had no idea how big and beautiful Vancouver Island was. According to the guy who drove us to the hotel it’s bigger than England, and is the second largest inhabited island in the world. Now, since I’m on a plane and I have no way of looking that shit up, I have no idea if any of it is true, but I’m just gonna take his word for it and spread the information here like an old school rumor.
Do you remember what it was like back before the internet and google? Back then you would hear something, have no idea whether it was true or not, and you would just repeat this dubious information to your friends, usually all fucked up and poorly recalled.
Ah, the good old days. It was so easy to be full of shit back then.

If I had googled Vancouver Island before my trip I’m sure its magnificent beauty wouldn’t have so pleasantly surprised me. I had no idea what to expect, and I was thinking it was just gonna be some island that we would land on, and on it there would be some town there where we would be performing at. Instead it was this incredibly gorgeous, huge island with these amazing, wooded mountains with snow-covered peaks off in the distance. It was fucking fantastic.
I was glad we took the ferry just so we could enjoy the scenery.
We had a seat by the windows, and right when we approached the island the clouds parted in the sky and bathed the whole scene in majestic light. It was like nature was showing off. Like she was a really sexy bitch in a tight dress, but she couldn’t wait to take off her jacket so you could get a better look and really see what’s up.
The sun illuminated the blue water and made the green forest burst with color and life.

vancouver

It was pretty fucking dope.
We also met some cool guys on the boat that were headed there to see our show. It was great to see how excited they were about the show, and how much they were looking forward to seeing me.
It was really inspirational, and I told them that I was honored that they were so into it.

The show was at a local nightclub called “The Element,” and the people that came to the show were cool as fuck. If you ever want to see a direct, tangible affect of the grass culture on the behavior of an area’s population, you don’t need to look any further than Vancouver. It’s direct, it’s obvious and it’s discussed there often. Weed is EVERYWHERE in Vancouver, and the people are some of the nicest folks you’ll ever come across. These were some of the friendliest crowds that I’ve ever performed for, and I’ve never had more people handing me joints after the show. It was ridiculous – to the point where I had to refuse most of it since I can’t fly with it, and there was no way I could smoke it all in 2 days without violating the laws of space time. Taking pictures with folks was hilarious; one guy shakes my hand and palms a joint into it, the next guy stuffs a bag full into my jacket pocket, then the next guy drops another joint in there, one after another – to the point where it felt like a gag in a movie.
I didn’t want to waste all of these precious plants, so I talked to one of the local law enforcement officers and he said I could give it to him and he would donate it to a local charity that provides weed to young people that can’t afford it.

True story.

The next night we were at the River Rock Casino in Richmond, and another awesome, sold out show. After the show I hung around to meet folks and take pictures, and was met with the same charitable spirit that I encountered in Victoria. Red-eyed friendly strangers came up to me one after another handing off joints and bags of weed. It was fucking hilarious. I guess that’s just how they roll up there.
A group of guys showed up with Alex Jones t shirts on that they made based on my impression of Alex, where I say something crazy, and then say, “I have the documents!”
I took some pictures because I knew Alex would get a kick out of it.

alex_jones_shirt

In closing I would just like to thank everyone that came out to the shows. The response was overwhelming and I really had an amazing time up there. I can’t wait to go back.