We had a ridiculously early van call the next morning because we had a "Chunnel" reservation for 8am. The Chunnel is Train that runs in the Channel Tunnel and brings you and your vehicle into France. After a much needed bathroom break (NORMAL URINALS! I hate the UK for the piss trenches.) we drove onto the train. I decided it was time I catch a little sleep so I pulled my lawn chair out of the van and set it up in the train. I must have looked homeless and/or retarded but I didn't care, it was comfortable. There was a family of popped collars behind us in an Audi, the father had a pink long sleeve on. Check FB, I took a picture. I am sure I was White Trash to them. I was woken up after what seemed like 2 minutes and we were in France. The French countryside sells like cow shit, everywhere you go until you get into Paris. I saw their Nuclear power plant, horrible graffiti skills and had my first legit French Baguette. I am sure i would have insulted them when I slathered it with Peanut Butter but man was it delicious. After 6 hours of driving and smelling feces, we made it into Paris. The club that night was awesome. It was called Batofar. It was a boat docked in the channel and you play under the deck. Technically you are playing in the water. At one point, I knew the dudes were talking smack about us because they kept staring at us, laughing and talking in French. We stuck it to them when we packed the boat and killed it. The kids went off and ended up hanging out after the show outside the boat. But I just got ahead of myself…After we loaded in, Chris asked me if I wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. I was pumped so PC and Ryan decided to come so the 4 of us hopped the train and went to the tower. The train has no compassion for anything in their doors. They slam closed and amputate anything in their path. I know because I almost became Lt. Dan and lost half my leg in it. We managed to piss off some french lady with the door debacle but if I was french, I would be pissed to. After a very hot, stank ass train ride (apparently they like to smell their own stench) we made it to the tower. That thing is huge. It seemed so surreal to be standing in front of this thing that you always see in movies and pictures. On our way to it, we stopped to watch this really homo erotic break dancing that included dressing like women, nipple rubbing and hair humping that a few hundred people were watching. Meanwhile, legit hip/hop break dancing was taking place 30 yards away and no one seemed to care… We decided we had enough and wanted to walk underneath the tower. There was a massive queue for the trip to the top that we decided to skip it and head back to the train for the show. Standing underneath it, you get a real sense of the massive size this thing is. Its unreal and a true marvel. PC decided to get his son Jack one of these mechanical dogs he saw these dudes selling. As he got closer, he saw that the dogs were filthy and one didn't even have an eye. He turned and walked away and then this crazy Indian dude kept trying to sell it to him. After telling him to, well you know, he finally left us alone. We made it back to the club for a great show. We had a reservation at an F1. An F1 is a mix between a Hostel and a motel. Its a room with a bunk bed but no bathroom, only a sink. It is pretty ghetto but interesting to see. This is the same chain of hotels an unnamed person "Waffle Stomped". I cannot tell you what that means but it consists of a shower drain, poop and a flip flop on a foot. Most amazing story I have ever heard. Puts all of mine in check and not sure they can beat it to be honest…
Apparently in my sleep, I punch my brother in the face. I was broken this info when i woke up the next morning. I don't remember any of this happening, so I have to take his word on this. After being punch back for my earlier actions, we headed outside to wait for the rest of the band. We are then approached by some hooker who was leaving the "motel" asking us for a cigarette. She was kinda pretty but she had all these sores on her face. Pretty rank and I felt kinda bad for her, and in normal Catch 22 fashion, we proceeded to knock at her when we drove past her while she waited for the bus. We are dicks and grown-up children. We headed out on the highway for the worst ride ever. 16 hours…in a lawn chair on our way to Spain. We ended up making a "short" stop a few hundred KM from the Espana border. The 1 hour stop turned into 3 so I pulled my SWEET chair out and setup camp on the sidewalk in France. The looks I got were priceless, but for those of you that are keeping tabs, it has now become a 19 hour drive. My home away from home no longer had a back or a stable foundation! At the 2nd rest stop in Spain, the chair is launched out of the van and now I need to find a new place to sit..BUT what is this I see? A huge building, no windows and a florescent sign blinking "Club Millennium". What would you say that is, yes me too, a strip club, open in Spain at 2am (20 hours into the drive). Everyone tells me to go "check it out", so i "unwillingly" oblige. So here I am, a gringo, covered in tattoos walking into a strange club at 2am. There are the tell tale heavy curtains in front of the entry way, the smell of bleach, perfume and broken dreams and BOOM…Its a M-F-ing whore house…i have never in my life, ran out of a place faster. As i get back to the van, the NJ in me kicks back in…I am asked, "so was it a strip club" and my response was…"Nope, it was a fucking whore house and had a bunch of sketchy Mexicans outside"….The look on everyone face was priceless and I was berated for 10 mins on how they are Spanish, not Mexican and how I am racist…Dicks…We end up leaving this god awful rest stop and head towards Viverio, Spain. I am now sitting next to KG who sits like he is is stirrups for a gynecological exam and quickly started to miss the lawn chair I have so recently loathed. At 6am, we arrived at the hotel to find out it is sold out and no rooms are available. Rooster pleaded with them and they agreed to give us 2 rooms that haven't been cleaned yet so we could get a few hours of sleep. The rooms were sleazy but the beds were already broken in and there was a Beday! I could get fresh and clean, the French way! After a much needed 2 hours of sleep, We head over to the Futbol field where the festival is being held, I drop off the merch and head back to the hotel. I get out of the van to check the front desk if they have clean rooms available yet and to pick up the keys. As I walk out to the van, rooster decided to get revenge on me for, i am guessing, making fun of his use of the letter "hetch" or H to all of you NON queens English speakers. As I am getting into the van he speeds away and I am now chasing the van around the hotel grounds. I am being laughed at by the band, people at the pool and now members of No Use For a Name and Lagwagon and I pass their room. I jump in the van and tell him to go fuck himself but it was funny. We shower, get the band together and head back to the pitch. Long story short, 8-10 thousand people were at the show and the 22 killed it and then the drinking began. Chris and PC found the Jager, they got drunk but Ian got trashed. Chris from Lagwagon comes over to me after Ian creeped out who I think was Joey Cape's GF or wife, not sure and asks if Ian would like a shot of some insane vodka that looks like Jager and tastes like "Satan's Semen". Seeing that Ian is swaying like a flag in the wind, I tell him no he is OK. I run to the gnarliest bathroom ever and when I come back, I see LW Chris with a bottle and they are clapping and laughing. He comes up to me and tells me to "check out my boy!" Ian is now standing by himself, doing double windmills slowly over and over again. Needless to say, we have to carry Ian out of there while both Lagwagon and NUFAN clap and laugh. Mission Accomplished on their end but the joy of taming a beast has just started. We have to continually throw Ian in the van over and over. He wasn't ready to stop Raging apparently. After much "convincing", he agrees to stay in the van and rooster can put him to bed. As we are leaving Chris and I decided to steal not 1 for 2 new "thrones" for me to sit on in the van. One is this massive white plastic chair (stolen by Chris) and I went with the classier wooden folding chair. Thank god for chris because the wooden one was a POS. Find out what happens to both chairs later on, it keeps getting better and better!
We stop by Ian's room in the morning and there it is. A mysterious gash on his head and a black eye. We are all unsure of how it happened and he has no clue. After some investigation, we decided that we make shit detectives and give up on the case and proceed to make fun of him. We are a family and that is what families do! We load into the van and head towards some city I cannot remember to fly to Barcelona and then fly to Russia.
Part 3 SOON! Flights to Russia and the Manchurian Candidate! Its now turning longer and longer because things are getting better and better. Also, sorry this thing is so choppy, so many things went on, its impossible to make them flow into each other!
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