KELLER CLUB

SO I FUCKED UP MY KNEE FROM A PREVIOUS SHOW. AND NOW THIS GIRL FROM WHITE MILES, MEDINA (THOUGH I CALL HER DAMIEN BECAUSE SHE'S FUCKING EVIL) ASKS ME FOR A WITCHHUNT FOR WEED THROUGH RAINY STUTTGART. I RECALL HAVING CONTACTS AT THIRD RAIL GRAFFITISTORE, I GET THERE AND OFFER THEM GUESTLIST IN EXCHANGE, THEY'RE LIKE NO DUDE WE'RE INTO HIPHOP. I GET BACK ON THE TRAIN, IN THE WRONG DIRECTION OF COURSE, END UP GOD KNOWS WHERE AND BY NOW THERE IS FULL HURRICANE AND THE RAIN GOES LIKE THIS <--------- BICYCLES ARE BLOWING DOWN ON TRACKS, PEOPLE ARE SCREAMING AND WHATNOT. AFTER RUNNING TO THE RIGHT PLATFORM I MANAGE TO TAKE THE RIGHT TRAIN BACK TO VENUE, JUST TO FIND THAT DANGO MOTHERFUCKER HAS EATEN ALL MY FOOD, WHILE LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY ALLEDGEDLY. WHEN THE SHOW STARTS I FIND THAT I NEED TO ACT VIOLENT SECURITY ON STAGE INBETWEEN SUPPORTING ACTS BECAUSE THE CROWD IS FUCKING MENTAL. WHEN OUR GIGS ARE DONE AND IT IS TIME TO LOAD OUR GEAR WE FIND THAT THERE SIMPLY IS NO ELEVATOR, JUST A LONG, NARROW WINDING STAIRCASE FILLED WITH INSANE PEOPLE, UP TO THE STREET WHERE OUR BUS IS NOT WAITING FOR US SINCE SOMEBODY FORGOT THE KEYS TO THE GARAGE. I'M EXHAUSTED, BRUISED, HUNGRY, WET, TIRED, DRUNK, ANGRY, I'M WRITING THIS ON A BROKEN IPHONE WITH SHITTY WIFI, AND I HAVE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER.