In order to make you feel better about your last week, let’s go over mine:

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Saturday: The Witches Ball was an embarrassing mess. We were obviously added to late the bill to late to make it on any posters or marketing - not even their website mentioned us by the day of the show. The only poster we were on was the one I posted on my LJ, and so consequently the only people who came to see us were a couple dozen LJ friends. (thanks! sorry!) That should have been fine, since the venue claimed it’d have about 700 people coming from their "organization". Ooops!  Try, like 150. This constitues are smallest show in 2 years.

To polish off this fine day, our guitar player got so drunk he couldn’t play for the first three songs. *growel* He's done that before, and I have to say I'm not happy about it.

hey, at least we got shot at by shriners!

Sunday: I spent Sunday recovering from Saturday – but I will never fully heal.

Monday: Halloween brought a typhoon, the like of which is seldom seen in Gig Fucking Harbor. Rain makes traffic, and the combo kept away both party goers and trick-or-treaters. Also, I had to return the rental PA this day, AND decorate for halloween - by the time guests started showing up, I was too tired to put on a costume, and was the only person at MY HALLOWEEN party without a costume!!! Keristina spend the hole party holding Cholic-inflicted Isabella in our bedroom.

It was cool hanging out with new and seldom seen friends – and we did scare a few kids away. It was fun chatting and drinking and stuff, so this day wasn't a total loss - and the food rocked.

Tuesday: Suburban decides to make an accordion of me, Isabella, and my new Mercedes. The 90 billion ton SUV mashed me into a pickup truck in front of us. Day finishes out with trips to the hospital for all, and lots of insurance and police paperwork.

Wednesday: My day of bed rest turns out to be a stressful wreck, as we are forced to acknowledge Isabella has colic every bit as bad as Chloe had.

Thursday: Auto shop reports the repairs will cost at least $10grand, and take AT LEAST 3 weeks.

Due to excesive pants tightness, I begin a no-fun diet. The house is still filled with yummy Halloween Candy. I am snacky.

Receive a fan mail saying (summarised) "your music rocks, but you sing about death too often! Its depressing. Please write music about happy things, so happy people can listen". I reaspond with:
A: We don't sing about death at all - the album title is a Niezche reference, and there aren't ANY songs about death!
B: We are a GOTH BAND
C: Bite me

Friday: It is readily acknowledged that the steering wheel mark in my forehead is probably linking me to the now dead Gorbachov. If he was still alive, we could send secret messages to each other via our matching blotches, but alas, he is dead, so I keep getting a busy signal.

With any luck , I COULD have come out looking like Harry Potter. Obviously, no luck this week!

The Future: What excitement does the my future hold?  A weekend of birthday parties with Kristina's inlaws!  Waahoo!

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