we have a date with the underground, chapter 12
by Turtle Jones

This is the 12th in a series. Tales of an anonymous punk rocker. This whole series came out when bird met turtle and some words were exchanged. This is the product of both their travels. Enjoy it.

Ok......what's going on.....wait......

Waking up with a hangover. Sleeping on a floor. Covered in beer. Wait, more beer? Wait. Is someone pissing on me? What the fuck? Open your eyes, god dammit. The night is over. Do it now. Fuck. What's going on? Fuck. Where am I? Stop that. Who's doing that? Move. Now. Wake up. Open my eyes. Someone pouring a fucking beer on my chest at six in the morning?

I moved fast and just stared in my usual confused morning look.

"You fucking dick. What the fuck? Why did you do that? Where the fuck are we at........"

"We are near an ocean. Get it? Coors Lite? Like water? I thought it was funny. Well, it's kinda funny if you think about it. But near some ocean. Fuck if I know. One of the two big ones."

Well thanks Dan Rather for that clear concise infomation. That helps a hell of alot. Why don't you tell me why you are dumping a Coors Light on me before I give you a report why I'm kicking your ass. Fuck dude. Just shake me, god dammit. I have never really slept that hard. Or did I? You didn't need to dump a beer on me, asshole.

I had no idea where we were. I knew I smelled the ocean. I knew we had to play at some fucking college. I knew something....fuck...i needed a beer. Well, that's not what I knew but I knew something was happening. I couldn't see straight the night before. I remember just slamming back warm beer after a show. Passing out at this house, I think. Maybe it was somewhere else. I needed water. Drinking so much beer the night before. Losing any kind of mosture in my body and barely able to drive. I could barely fuction. No bueno.

Oh yeah. I drove the van sometimes.

I remember driving around with someone pointing and someone yelling and all of us drinking. That's all. Serious guys. Back then I didn't fuck around. We broke some laws. But you could prolly figure that out by now.

So what the hell happened last night?

I sat on the sofa and thought. What had happened? We played a show. I know that for sure. But after that....

I was lost and trying to find someones home by some beach by the ocean that had a roof and food and something about a TV with some kinda cable thing and the floor had carpet and if I was lucky it had a pillow but if not I had my arm that could hold my keys and those keys went in the van and that van moving and moving ruled, dude. You get a free pizza if you help someone move.

So you can see, I wasn't pushing all the gears here, guys. In fact, if I was a car, I'd be running in first. Or was I an automatic? Or maybe it was a big phoenix that rose out of the ashes. Guys, I was shot. When all your friends start to look like Alex Trebec and you start answering things in the form of a question, maybe it's time to slow down on the drugs there a little.

So imagine waking up to a water fall of beer on your chest the next morning. Wondering. Confused. What the fuck are we doing today? Why am I on the floor? What day is this? Where are my clothes? Why am I naked? Where is everyone? Why is shitty beer being poured on me?

Walking outside while someone is yelling at you that we have a day show in San Francisco. At the college.

What? What college? Where? What? When? Now? Are you serious? Ok. You got it. Lemmie just wash my face.

Hearing in the back as I walked in the house. Throwing a shirt on.

"We need to leave now!"

oko. Let me get my pants. Somehow I ended up naked last night. Don't know how that happened. Wait, I always sleep naked at home. This wasn't home. I don't know anything but to wash this shit off my face and chest. "We need to leave like fucking now! It's at noon today! On the campus! Pull your fucking clothes on and lets go!"

oko...gimmie a sec...I tied one on hard last night...gimmie a sec...hold on....cigarette...hold on....

*disclaimer...I never played the groupie thing...I just sleep naked...hey...it's what I do...gimmie a break*

Dragged outside by my arm, trying to light a cigarette while seeing the ocean. Wondering where in the fuck in San Francisco we were. I've lived in Chinatown before and none of this looked familiar. Gotta get my bearings. Gotta figure this out. Where am I at. Where am I at....

"Hey guys, where are we at?"

"Santa Cruz."

"And we have to go to fucking San Francisco? Who's bright fucking plan was this?"

"Yours. You said they had a keg at that house last night. That's why we went."

"I did? Really? Really? That doesn't sound like me......Well, did they have one?"

"I can't remember."

Well I'm gonna have to guess they did cause everyone in the van looked like shit. Really bad. Just lying around feeling bad. You could feel it, smell it, hear it, and fuck man, know it. This was a beat down crew. We went too fast last night. Hey dude. It happens. Like the last cigarette in pack, when you are running low you need to suck the last bit out until you drop and throw the pack away, we had sucked out our strength. We needed a break. It showed. We usually would have to go about 15 hours to stand or fall for the next show, but this one was like four hours till we had to go? And we are two hours away? And set up time plus required getting fucked up time?

Oh yeah.

We might have made a mistake on this one.

Rolling into the campus shot as hell. Not thinking about anything except moving the gear in. Sweating beer, drugs and Taco Bell. Busting our ass to get to the show. Making sure all the strings were tight. Pulling every trick we had to get the last life out of the strings. Tightening up and setting up. Medical tape and beer ready. Pulling off the shirt and waiting to go, wondering where everyone is at. No time for a check. Put the set list up. We know what we need to do. Stand or fall. Let's get this fucking thing going.

Who the fuck is this guy running up?

"Hey guys...we only have time for you to play one song before the next class starts."





"Could you guys just make it a short one? Just have fun and play one? We have Cokes in the back! Just play a short fast one. We need to get this going, guys. Just play."

Oh yeah. We will play. We are gonna motherfucking play till you shut the god damn power off. You woke our ass up and got us here for one song? One god damn song?? Jesus fucking christ. Usually someone buys me a Coke before I get fucked, but one song? Jesus fucking christ!

Ok. We will play you your one song. It's a new one. You might not have heard of it. It's called "Everything We Have With No Breaks Just Cause You Pissed Us Off."

So we went. We just kept going. Who were we gonna piss off? I could give a fuck less about whomever they decided to call sound this week. Fuck man, they looked as wasted as us. The kids didn't care. They looked as wasted as us. So we didn't stop. We keep going. Playing until our set list was done. It was just one of those things. You asked us to come. Wake us up. Didn't feed us. Didn't pay us. And then ask us to play just one song? Are you fucking kidding? What opium den did you just come from? Cause I need to find it. My "No Care" level needs to be up to where yours is.

So they shut the power off. Meh. It was gonna happen. I knew to just keep playing till the speakers said "no bueno." Pissed off basically about the situation and about everyone laughing at me. Waking up too early. Playing when the sun was up. Being hungry. Being tired. Being hungover. Being sick. I could get why everyone was so go giggly. That happens with lack of sleep. It happens. You get used to people not making sense after awhile. When you sweat blood, you will laugh at a thumbtack if the sun hit it right. But what the fuck was so funny this morning? And this afternoon? Why was everyone laughing? What the hell was going on?

I walked into the bathroom. Pretending I got the joke. Whatever the joke was. Looking in the mirror.


Someone had wrote "Insert penis here" on my face from the night before. A drawing of a penis on my cheek pointing at my mouth. An arrow pointed at where it should go on my lips.


That's why they pulled me away from the mirror this morning


And I just thought that all day, the guys in the band were just laughing at my jokes.


I knew my jokes weren't that funny.


FEAR Free Beer


hahahahah. dork. i mean that in the nicest way. heh.


That's fucked up.



it happens

you get revenge later, but they got you now


well. at least you never got your asscrack slathered in peanut butter and then decorated with feathers.

Not that *I* ever did that to anyone.


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