This one’s been sitting in my back pocket for a while:
It’s on the pull-out drawer in the back lounge of our bus, where we keep ice and cold beverages (we like cold beverages). Someone at the bus company went to the trouble of printing out a label and sticking it on there, presumably after a musician hurt themselves while grabbing a beer and misjudging the weight of the drawer.
Given how sensitive I am about keeping my fingers bizarro-injury-free, I should be more sensitive than this. Given that there’s a chance that Gerald, our wonderful gentle bus driver, might have been the one who created this label, I should be more sensitive than this.
I guess I’d been hoping to find the perfect opportunity to tie-in the pure-gold “heavey cooler watch fingre” label with a journal entry, and granted, on this tour we’ve encountered a few menus with egregious quotation mark abuse and a couple of college newspaper articles written about our band that make this cooler look like it deserves a Pulitzer, but I never had my camera on me. And so it must stand alone. Rathre than make fun of this label any furthre, I’m readey to move on to the scene in the front lounge of the bus:
Scooter’s mother brought puppies on the bus today. How perfect is that? She wouldn’t let us keep one. Not even the albino one with the evil red laser beam eye with which it stuns its prey. And its dog food. And Scooter’s parents.
One final pathetic bit of puppy pandering and the road journal officially jumps the shark! Miller and his dog Jerry: