I woke up in the van in Haarlem and we had some time to kill. We decided to take in some of the town so we walked around and looked in all the American mall shops that laced the narrow cobble stone paths. Brando and Richmond wanted to take in some picture opportunities so Rob, Greg, Fisher and I hit a mundo taco and got out of the rain . After my delicious chicken soft shells we wanted to kill some time with coffee. I’d been searching around for a hash bar and well we found the perfect place called Empire Coffee. It had a statue of a little 3 foot Trojan soldier out front that was smoking a huka. We went in and they had all the kinds of weed and hash they sold in a display case at the front counter. Rob doesnt normally partake but when in the Netherlands… We made a few salads and got ripped. I drank a coffee loved life for a bit. We went to the venue, loaded in did our check then we ate some incredible dishes. We played it went well and it was an older crowd. The DJ after the show was a school teacher who played the most amazing shit from Wreckless Eric to the Clinics. He told me he would be my new teacher to 60s punk. I learned so much from this dude. Were gonna be pen pals.

We drove into the gorgeous city of Wurzburg and admired the old European architecture. The statues and castles sparked everyones imaginations as to what must have taken place in this city hundreds of years ago. We found the venue and it was an old gothic building that had been turned into a youth center. We settled in our back stage room and we had our own private Kicker table. So cool. For the time being we were sharing our room with a few children who were putting on a play in a couple hours that they wrote themselves. I asked their teacher if we could watch and she said “of course”. I have to say this is definitley the first time I had ever watched a children’s play performed in german while pounding beers. It was well performed and Brando and I got the kids autographs. Then the Fuck Yeahs swept the Kicker tourney. Fuck Heads. The show began and we played with an amazing band called One Eyed Cats. Please google them. Simply incredible. I’m not sure where the energy came from but this was for sure one of my most energetic shows of the tour. There wasn’t many people but sometimes it’s just there and nothing else matters. We played and the small crowd seemed blown away. I must be such a narcicist but nothing compares to the kick I get out of playing a great show. Satisfied I sat back and enjoyed a glass of local Franco wine. I knew after the first glass it wasn’t the last. Hit the wine hard and we went back to Andy & Andi’s (the promoters) place. We drank and some girl grilled me on my life style and said I was brave for being so independant. If she only knew I live in fear of commitment she’d probably feel different but I took the compliment graciously. They don’t come my way often. I fell asleep next to Richmond and could taste the wine in my mouth as I dosed off. Radtacular.

We made way back to Germany and on the way got stopped by the cops again. These guys were way more serious then the dudes we had with the rubber gloves a couple weeks before. The one dude looked like his favourite movie was Tango and Cash and the other reminded me sort of Jay Mohr. These guys acted tough but it was hard to take these cops seriously. “Hello we are ze police, we are looking for drugs weapons or such forbidden zings” Jay Mohr said in a high pitched German accent. They took our passports and Tango headed back to their station wagon. ” Right now you have ze opportunity to give us such forbidden zings, If you say now you have, zis is fine, if you say you don’t have and we find, zis will be not so good for you.” he continued “Do you have anyzing like kilograms of drugs or somezing like zis?” he asked. ” Confused I replied ” I don’t think so”. To be honest I thought everything was gone but who knows?  They searched Rob and Fisher and Tango returned bummed out that they had nothing on us. They let us go and Rob did the best impression of a German cop Ive ever heard. I’m laughing right now thinking of it. We got to the venue and Gunnar was there with his lady and was all smiles. We got caught up and filled him in our adventures over the past couple weeks. We then got back to business. Kicker Business. It was a close tournament but the High Five Rattle Snakes finally took a title. Kind of fitting as all the kicker players on our side had St. Paulies jerseys on. I had low expectations for this show as it was in the basement of an old cinema and we didn’t really sound check but I was pleasently surprised. We played, it ripped (as salad would say). The promoter Christian then showed us a trick where he kicked the cap off a beer bottle with his foot but useing another beer bottle. Jesus. We hit Christian’s and crashed. I can’t believe this tour is almost over. Playing with Fucked Up and seeing Hot Water Music is getting me excited though.

After Basque we stayed in a hotel in France. We slept and recovered from the night before. We tried our best to get going early but we were still about 2 hours late for load in. We were playing support for The Living End from Australia and I was looking forward to it. We checked and hit our band room. Had a little small talk with the aussies then ate dinner. We took the stage and the crowd was very receptive. I felt by then end I could have given more. Maybe it was the long drive from france or maybe still feeling a little hung from Basque but I couldn’t get to the level of satisfaction that I’ve been reaching the past few tours with my live show. I guess like a golfer who is always going for his personal best. The Living End fucking ruled and are incredibly tight. What a great show. A nice surprise after we played was Hasu of the Peacocks showed up and was ready to party. Also our friends from the Tiki Pub showed and we had us a party crew. I started drinking whiskey and felt my night getting radical. Hasu was on the market for some party favours and who was I to argue? We met a few girls that wanted to go to Zurich’s red light district and this was starting to get interesting. Hasu, Brando, the girls, myself and a few others all hopped in Fab from Tikis van and hit the town. Hasu and I found a shady dude and he ripped us off. Fucker. We then walked past a biker club house and there was this metal looking chick out front. She said she knew where to get what the crew was looking for so Hasu and I hopped in a cab with her and we ended up at a Swiss whorehouse. “Shady” I thought to myself. Dudes were staring me down as I studied the pictures of naked girls on the wall. God, what I wouldn’t give to see just one boob right now. So we then found out that the metal girl was in fact a hooker herself. “shadier” I thought. But if there is one thing I could count on was the honesty of said lady of the night. We grabbed, then hit the nearest pub we could find. We drank pints and this Swiss girl kept asking if I’d be her Clyde. I told her I was eyeing a Bonnie back home so she started on Hasu.  We hit the hotel and kept going for awhile. Swiss bonnie crashed in our room but in the morning, she was gone but half of her clothes were still there. Weird. What a fucking party. Hasu rules, again check out The Peacocks. Also Fab has a label called Bad Mood Records check that shit out.

“At least we’ll get laid” I joked as I put out my cigarette passing a sheep farm through the mountains in northern Spain. Brando was driving and I think we were both expecting to play a small village, maybe a town hall or something like that. We arrived at the venue and were greeted with open arms by the promoter Sala. He was wearing a cowboy cut Clash button up and sort of reminded me of Manu Chow but Im not sure why. The venue was great, just an open room with a great stage and sound system. I unloaded my bag in the back stage area which was upstairs and Sala was rehearsing ” no woman no cry” with a couple of friends. One of which was a beautiful girl who’s name escapes me at the moment. She sang and Rob and I listened. Both our hearts melted as her accent rolled over every word and she hit every note with ease. I went to watch their sound check and wondered why all the floors were covered in saw dust. Kind of like they used to do to dry up childrens vomit when I was in grade school. I asked the sound man why and he told me it was so people didn’t slip when the floor got wet. He then told me to put out my hand and put about 2 grams of weed on it. He then said “free”.You know normally I wouldn’t partake in such events so I put it in my bag to dispose of it later. But boy it was the best smelling weed I have ever smelled. Not that I’d know. We then went out to dinner and Sala explained to me that one of the older men we were having dinner with was an old Spanish punker named Juel. He played in a huge band in the 80s called RIP. They used to sell out stadiums. He barely plays anymore but he had told Sala that he liked our band and would play along with Sala’s band “The dirty boys”for the evening.  Sala was honoured and so were we. We ate a delicious meal and drank wine on a makeshift patio outside a restaurant in a courtyard while children played soccer and families laughed together. While we waited for our after dinner coffee Sala put a small amount of tobacco in his hand them seemed to crumble hash into it? I asked if such things were legal and he said “of course.” He then gave me about a gram and of course I didn’t want to offend so I put it in my smoke pack and intended on disposing it safely later. Sala then explained to me that the area around Arasate was actually called Basque Country and they wanted to separate from Spain because the Spanish government doesn’t acknowledge their cultural heritage. I found this very interesting and made a note to learn more. We finished dinner and went back to the club. When we got back the rest of the dirty boys were there along with some friends. I went up to our band room and drank a beer and had a smoke. The dirty boys took the stage and played a great set. I realized how many clash shirts were in the room. Kids and adults of all ages were singing along to the words as Sala’s band covered “Police on my back” We took the stage and had a great time from the first song to the last chord. We did an encore of “I fought the law” and the Dirty Boys sang it with us and it was all hugs and high fives. We went up stairs relaxed then got ready to see what this town had to offer. The first pub we walked into had Rancid cranked, it reeked of hash and you could barely move. Oh yeah, you can basically smoke anywhere which is rad for us except Im burning through lucky strikes like crazy. Anyway, we went outside to get some air and were surprised to learn that we could just take our pints to the next pub. We Hit the next bar and The Clash was blaring. It also reeked of hash and it dawned on me that this place basically reveres Joe Strummer as a saint , maybe even a religious figure of some sort. “do you hear what he’s saying?” “I hear what he’s saying”. We then went on to another pub but not before meeting a dude that spoke to us in Basque about drumming I think, “Love, peace and Metallica” were his parting words. Fuckin right.It was too crowded at this pub so we headed back to the venue. On the way I heard a man yell “Canada” then ran up to me and handed me some magic mushrooms. I didn’t want to offend their culture so I put them in my pocket and decided to dispose of them later. Safely and responsibly. We drank and drank and had a great time. Sala told us he had reservations for us in the nicest hotel in Basque. We decided that we should head over as it was 4 am. I got a ride with a guy named “Magoo”. He explained to me as we drank that the police in Basque were private and didn’t answer to the spanish government. They supplied the town with hard drugs to control the violence and spread of disease . Where there was almost none. Not even vandalism which is very common in Europe. I guess if there is no oppression what is there to revolt against. I remembered earlier in the night Brando had a tear running down his face and he said “I’m not sure if it’s the smoke or how amazing this place is but Im crying”. I instantly felt the same. We loaded into our amazing hotel and Fisher, Richmond, Brando and I stayed up until sunrise disposing of all the cultural gifts we recieved. Safely and Responsibly.I woke up feeling surprisingly good. We were supposed to meet Sala in the lobby at noon to get a bite. He never showed so the hotel called one of the names on their contact list. It was a nearby bar owner and he came and got us. We walked to his bar and he said no one knew where Sala was. The bar was already full of weed and hash smoke and he gave us coffee and laid out some smoke for us. I puffed and chatted with a dude named Igor who explained more about Basque Country to me. He told me that Basque was the oldest euro language, even older than Latin and that it was one of the pure bloodlines still documented for thousands of years. He explained that people called Basque racist but they love everyone. They simply try to marry within their culture to preserve it. Other than the 24 or25000 people who lived there, Basque was a dead language. Because of this the Spanish government wants to get rid of Basque and ignores the requests of Basque Country. He told me that some of the oldest fossils known to mankind were found in a nearby cave and that many archaeologists believe that Basque Country is one of the original modern civilizations and Igor couldn’t understand why this wasn’t important to preserve. I’m inclined to agree. We got word from Sala and he said he’d be by in 20minutes. We ate lunch and I reflected on this nearly anarchist state. I left my heart there as I feel a place where drugs are legal, everyone respects and is polite to one another, kids and adults play together well into the night, Joe Strummer is basically Jesus, bars stay open all night and play real punk rock, all this while surrounded by a mountainesque back drop with warm weather and clean water? I have to say it is truly a hidden paradise deep in the mountains of Spain. I’ll never forget a quote Sala said to us the night before at dinner while refering to the Spanish government. “We have to fight for our right to relax.”

It was a long drive to Barcelona and a lot of it through France. We got to the border and the border guard was a treat. She checked our passports and sent us on our way. The mountains were beautiful and the bases were painted with picturesque villages covered in graffiti. We got to Barcelona and the Clash’s “combat rock” provided the perfect sound track to the drive into the city center. Motorcycles weaved through the crowded traffic and Brando got us to “Rock Sound” safely. Somehow. We ate some food and I tried a shot of Canabis Absinthe. It was quite a start to my birthday celebration. The bar filled with spanish skin heads decked head to toe in fred perry. Well dressed bunch. All clean shaven and nothing out of place.  Not exactly meeting us half way anywhere as I’ve worn the same pair of jeans since November 2nd and have a beard that rivals Yukon Cornelius from the Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer Christmas special. Anyway we followed a band called Bulldozer that is banned everywhere for fighting. Apparently they fight with neo-Nazi skins all the time but the Nazis only show at Bulldozer events to brawl with them.  Kind of made me wonder what we were in for. We played and won over a bunch of the crowd and I feel we played one of our better sets of the tour. It’s hard winning anyone over so chalk it up to another win.  After us an Oi band called The Cliches took the stage and killed it. The show ended and a dj started rocking roots reggae like nobodys business. We hit the dance floor hard and skanked as best we could.  Fisher was awesome out there. The rest of the night got pretty sloppy and foggy. All in all, played a show in Barcelona, danced all night, got completely shittered. Happy Birthday to me.

We woke up in Bern and had breakfast with Heidi our new friend and promoter of the night before. We had a short drive to Geneve so we took our time and she shared some classic swiss tale about a young girl named Heidi who moved from the mountains to the city. She was very sweet and hospitable. We headed towards Geneve and before we knew it Jessica told us we had arrived out our destination. We had some time to kill so we wandered around the city a bit before load in. The Tiki Pub was amazing and paid homage to classic American culture very tastefully. They fed us burgers that came in cardboard pink cadillacs and it was actually a little taste of home. Greg’s voice was completely gone so we were scrambling to figure out who would do what vocally. We got organized and we gave our all. The sound system was awful but somehow we fought through it and to our surprise we sold a bunch of merch. Sometimes heart can over come performance and I think this was one of those cases. It passed midnight so we celebrated my birthday a little early. The dudes at Tiki took us over to a private band hostel/flat that was above a nearby bar and we drank and talked music for hours. We learned that back in the day Kurt Cobain along with Nirvana had stayed here. Kind of neat in a nostalgic for 1992 kind of way.

Jessica our GPS told us in her sexy British voice that ” we had reached our destination” in front of a ghetto looking carnival. Thankfully our venue was actually a place called Reitschule behind the carnival. Reitschule was a massive venue that at one point was a horse riding school. It, like many venues we’ve played here was split into many various rooms and smaller venues for various differnt music and parties. While looking for our spot to load in we saw a tour bus on the compounds premise and wondered who the fuck it was. Turns out it was the 90s rock band “Living Colour”. For those not familiar this was a band full of black dudes with dreads who played bullshit I would compare to “infectious Grooves” (Suicidal Tendencies/Janes Addiction side project where the concept was they were lizards from outer space trying to spread their universal funk……..for real though).We then learned we were actually playing their after party. Weeeird we thunked to ourselves. So we had dinner then did a bit of a sound check.Then like every night found the kicker table and got down to business. If I haven’t filled you in, or even if I have I’ll refresh you. We have been having 2 on 2 Kicker tournaments everywhere that has a table. The teams are Rob & Fisher “The Smoking Popes”, Taylor & Richmond “The Carnals (Fuck Yeah)” and me & Brando “High Five Rattle Snakes”. It is also noteworthy that we hands down have the coolest name and secret handshake. Although we have yet to win a series, everyone in Europe here shower us with love because we are the underdogs. Bern was refreshing for it hath been a dark time for kicker due to the carnals evil rule over every tournament. But this day they came last and it was the snakes and the popes in the final. Popes came out victorious and everyone in Europe was heart broken. Heh, if those guys disagree they can get their own fucking blog. Anyway, Taylor has blown out his voice and could only sing a partial set so I fumbled my way through covering for him. It was a tough go as obviously Greg is a huge part of this band. We wrapped up and went to bed in a flat they had on the top floor of the venue. I chatted online with my friend Andrea who gave me a little pep talk as to why I shouldn’t be home sick. Smart girl. I should also mention for those that have been following that those black elk dudes delivered Donny his message in a bottle. That’s rad.

Gaswerk We were excited to get to the venue today after a short drive because we were heading to the home town of label mates and old friends The Peacocks. We toured with these guys on our first ever national Canadian tour with the Flatliners and The Toasters. Hasu, the front man of the Peacocks was also promoting the show so we knew we were in for a good time. We met the openers and one of the bands turned out to be Jonnie 3 from Ohio. The 3 piece was crammed into a van with the band they were on tour with called The Hitchcocks. I got to talking with them and it turned out that Jonnie 3 toured with The Vapids. If you are unfamiliar with the Vapids pull your head out of your ass and learn a thing or two about a thing or two. They are and will always be one of the best and coolest bands out of the Burlington/Hamilton area. With accolades coming from members of the Ramones and teenage head you can’t beat that with anything.Anyway, putting my 3chord fan boy ranting aside the bands were great. The sound was amazing and the venue itself was incredible. It was an old building given to a committee for the sake of throwing concerts, discos, shows etc. Everyone who works at the venue is a volunteer and no one gets paid. They all just do it to make the place work. Even the chefs who made us an amazing dinner work totally for free. I think we’d all be pretty hard pressed to find something like that back home.We were set up to play the smaller of the two rooms in the basement of the venue and that was cool with us. We took the stage and I don’t mind saying we fucking killed it. We think encores are lame but we did a double encore. I guess like the saying goes “when in Rome,do roman drugs”. Or something like that. We got shit faced afterwords and we all partied back stage until the wee hours.Huge shout outs to Jurg and Hasu of the Peacocks. Fucking Rad.P.S. Go buy the Peacocks record at www.unionlabelgroup.com or search them on Itunes. You won’t be disapponted!