890. Running on Empty
What the hell are emotions, anyway?
Author Archives: daron
889. House of Pain
(Happy New Year, everyone! Here’s to a better 2018, eh? -ctan) — Room service brought us food. Since we were in a fancy suite we had an actual dining table made of some fancy wood. I don’t remember what I ate, but it was very grounding. The headache in my ears intensified, though–I could feel […]
888. Here Comes the Rain Again
That afternoon we had the worst sex ever. Okay, no, that’s an exaggeration. The worst sex is the sex that damages your relationship. This wasn’t that bad, but it was physically stressful, which made it emotionally stressful in a way I didn’t expect. I can’t even tell you whose idea it was. I think we […]
887. Do You Hear What I Hear?
(Merry Christmas, DGC fans! I figured what the hey, for the holiday, let’s post a day early. -ctan) I want you to picture a hotel suite overlooking a crowded city, large panes of glass filled with vistas of buildings everywhere. The “prez” suite took up two corners of the hotel so we could see in […]
886. You’re My Best Friend
The landing in Sao Paulo was rough. The grab-your-armrests-and-grit-your-teeth kind of rough. But we and the plane survived. “No plane crash metaphors in your next song,” Bart muttered as we taxied.
885. Superman’s Song
I don’t actually remember anything he said. Bart ushered me into the window seat in the very last row of the plane, buckled himself into the seat next to me. Chris was sitting two rows away. Everyone else was at least ten or fifteen rows in front of us, almost all roadies.
884. Material Issue
Flight time from Buenos Aires to Sao Paulo was about three hours. Before we were allowed to board our plane, though, we were held in a closed off lounge in the airport. I didn’t think anything of it until three men in uniform–police inspectors of some kind–came in with a dog. A drug-sniffing dog, of […]
883. The Waterboys
Colin came back from his workout a little while after that. I’d gotten as far as half-filling the tub with hot water and getting in it. He, naturally, came to check on me. “You look like you gave a chimney sweep a blow job,” he said.
882. Pop Goes the Weasel
The next morning at eleven Colin went with Flip to the gym. I stayed in bed and told them not to worry because it wasn’t like I could get myself into any trouble while I was asleep. I didn’t fall back to sleep, but I did lie there with my eyes shut, feeling like if […]
881. Nasty Habits
For the record, I did not pass out on the bathroom floor and make an embarrassing or tabloid-worthy scene a la Lacey Montaigne. Colin and Flip were watching me too carefully for that. One of them had seen me duck into the bathroom and when I hadn’t come out after forty-five minutes they (apparently) debated […]