We’re still in Nashville. It’s 9:15 in the AM. A very hungover HARLOW is now arising. They seem none too pleased.
FLICKERSTICK is also just getting up, and Brandin jokes that “SOULCRACKER’s already played a show today.” Heh. Yeah, they stink. Like poop.
Beastie “couldn’t sleep last night due to my regular mental problem. Rebecca.” Thanks for spelling it out, there, Fangy McHairgrease. Apparently, he’s been considering getting back together with this girl (whom we’ve never heard of before now), and he’s wondering how his being on a TV show is going to affect things. Not. It’s so obvious he just wants some more airtime. Camera hog. Nice name, Beastie. “Pardon me for being a little egotistical here, but I think I’m quite a catch.” And by “catch” he means “spastic colon.” He just pronounces it differently.
Anyway, time to hear some totals from Brendon and Katina.
Total tour earnings:
FLICK -- $4886
SCARLET O’HARLOW -- $5509
SMELLSLIKEPOO -- $5738
Why are they still winning? Not!
Memphis is the town. Brendon tells everyone to check under their visors to see what the bonus opportunity is going to be. They all do so, and a bunch of casino chips fall out. Basically, they have to play a gig at a casino in Memphis, and they get two hundred bucks, which they can gamble. If they win money, they can put up to a thousand into their tour earnings. If they lose it all, they lose it all.
HARLOW’s like, “Fuhg dat!” SOULCRACKER’s like, “Dude, we are totally gonna kick ass!” Like you always do. Dominic: “Dude, we are gonna gamble that money away so fast.” Everyone giggles. They’re awesome, man. Cory thinks he has a “foolproof gambling system.” Okay, whatever. Dom: “Why aren’t you rich?” True.
SOULCRACKER just found out that they’re playing at the Young Avenue Deli on Tuesday. Bob: “Oh, great. A deli.” Bob, you should not talk, ever. You should just sit there and shut up and not talk and not make me want to throw things at my television. You are made out of poo. That’s right, I said it. Your bones? Poo. Brain? Also poo. Your poo itself is made of even more rancid poo. Sorry, but Bob stinks.
Chimene doesn’t want to get drunk tonight because she knows she’ll want to gamble if she does. Amanda: “That’s a great idea, Chimene. I couldn’t have thought of a better idea myself.” “I’m not getting drunk tonight.” “That’s nice.” Heh. Sure you won’t. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge.
Sutton’s teaching the boys to play poker. Aw. No campfire? Oh, yeah, they’re in a van.
Oh, great. Of course, they start playing “Walking in Memphis” on the soundtrack. Whatever.
Cory accidentally left his undies in Nashville. Dominic and Brandin are tickled pink by this, as am I. Tee hee!
SOULCRACKER has to cross the border to Mississippi to play their show at Bally’s. I don’t care much.
Rex wants to know what Cory’s system for gambling is. “I’m just gonna play the dollar blackjack table and get liquor.” Rex: “That don’t sound like much of a system.” El Dangeroso speaks the truth. He is a wise one. And he rocks.
Rayshele is not happy about the casino and starts to bitch and moan immediately. She says something about how this is a “sabotage of wasted time.” What the hell does that mean? It seems to me that if you sabotage wasted time, you’re actually being pretty efficient, right? Whatever, I guess I know what she means. Kind of. Well, no, not really, but whatever. Rebecca likes the “sickness factor of playing to the newlyweds and nearly-deads.” That’s nice.
All the bands are showing up at the casino now, getting drinks and preparing to play. It doesn’t seem like the greatest venue. FLICK goes on first, and they rock, as usual. Rex: “Nobody was into us there. That ‘bling-bling-bling, bling-bling-bling,' that hypnotic thing that just doesn’t stop, you know? God!” Yeah, dude. That’s gotta suck.
All of the HARLOW girls agree that they don’t want to gamble their money. Smart move, I say. Rebecca: “Okay, so it’s anonymous.” Waps. I think she means "unanimous." “Yeah, anonymous, no one will know who decided.” Good save, Beck.
Beastie: “The crowd at the casino was comprised mostly of HARLOW and FLICKERSTICK. It was a pretty good crowd.” Aw, Beastie. Don’t give me a soft spot for you there, guy. You’re the guy I like to hate; don’t screw it up for me.
FLICKERSTICK has already started to gamble. Brandin mentions that he thinks everyone in the band is getting along better than ever. Regardless, everyone stinks at the blackjack table. So much for the “foolproof plan,” Cory. Ah, whatever. Free drinks, right? Right on.
Beastie thinks that “now that it’s down to just the three bands, people are willing to start talking to one another.” I don’t think it’s that, dude. I think it’s just that the other bands drink a lot, and they seem to be pretty jolly drunks. I think that alcohol makes them less prone to cringing when they see you and your band. That’s all it is. Just because they stand there and watch you play blackjack does not mean they’re your BFFs.
HARLOW goes on, and they’re starting to really tighten up. Afterwards, everyone is shootin’ the shit and talking to one another, which I never thought I'd see. Beastie is prattling on about Rebecca to Chimene, who seems totally uninterested. Rex and Rayshele are getting comfy (a little birdie told me that Rex left his wife after the show and is now dating Rayshele. Aw). Apparently, Rayshele feels that HARLOW uses her as a “novelty.” Um, whatever. You’re not that interesting. So you’ve been to jail and smoked pot. Whoop dee doo. Rex has his hand on her knee. Nice. It is so on. She starts breaking down the band to Rex: “Rebecca is the preppy college chick [totally], Amanda’s the sex siren [um, no], Chimene is the rock goddess [also untrue], and I’m the hateful fuck.” Hmm, interesting.
The following morning, there’s another bonus opportunity. Basically, the bands have to pitch themselves to a TV show called "Good Morning Memphis" to get a promo spot and a hundred and fifty smackers. Chimene and Rayshele go down to the studio and wait forever to talk to someone. Ramsey and Beastie go down an hour later. FLICKERSTICK doesn’t send anyone, because they don’t care. SOULCRACKER gets the gig somehow. Not. They stink. HARLOW is really pissed off. They think that SOULCRACKER gets all the breaks, which is totally true. Rex: “We’re really depressed about being this far behind, so we’re not even trying anymore.” As if those guys ever really tried in the first place.
A production staff guy comes into FLICK’s room bearing a FedEx package. Cory is psyched because it’s his underwear. Except that it isn’t his underwear at all -- it's some random dude's tighty-whiteys. That’s hilarious. Someone in Nashville is turning red right about now. Anyway, Cory decides to burn the nut-huggers out in the parking lot. That is also hilarious. Everyone gets a good laugh out of it, as always. Heh.
SOULCRACKER is having a little pow-wow about their performance on the tour so far. AP doesn’t think that SOULCRACKER is getting “equal opportunities.” Beastie: “We once again felt the kiss of death on the backs of our necks from having to play in another place with food in the title.” Kiss of death? That’s a bit much. Bob: “I want people to come because they met us and heard our music.” Um, I don’t think I would hold my breath if that were all I had going, chief. Shut up, Bob. “It’s a fucking TV show. Relax.” Why don’t you tell yourself that, Bobbo? You suck.
HARLOW is down in the hotel bar, selling merch like it’s going out of style. Rebecca is trying to get some guy to come out to the show. Unfortunately, he’s going to jail tomorrow for two to six. Rebecca: “So, I guess you’re not gonna make it to the show?” Guess not.
Tonight is “Pint Night” at Flying Saucer, so SOULCRACKER is playing a gig there. FLICKERSTICK and HARLOW catch wind of this and decide to crash the party, mainly because it’s the only place open in Memphis. It’s still kind of awesome to see them get their come-up-ins and give CRACK a taste of their own medicine by undercutting their promotion. Rock. While FLICKERSTICK is just sitting there (drinking), Beastie comes up and sits down with them while he’s still singing. Wow, Beastie. It’s amazing that you can still sing while being so nonchalant. It takes real talent to do something like that. Substitute “a real asshole” for “real talent.” My bad.
FLICK is not amused. Neither is AP: “Like, what the fuck?” Dude, you’re totally a woman. “FLICKERSTICK and HARLOW came over and promoted their show during our set, and it’s like, if HARLOW was playing, and we did something like that, they’d flip!” The only reason you know that is because you have done that and they have flipped, on several occasions. You are a tool, AP. Get out of my house, and take Bob and Ta-Ta Toothy with you. CRACK decides to go home early and let the other bands promote. Rayshele gives Sutton a gentle ribbing about the "Good Morning Memphis" thing. I think she’s flirting. Sutton thinks she’s being competitive and jealous. Hmm. “They want to act like they don’t care, but they really do.” Of course they do. There’s a lot of money at stake.
So, it’s Rex’s birthday. FLICK is absolutely tossed, and El Dangeroso is making his presence known. Fletcher: “After five or six beers, he becomes El Dangeroso. After four or five more, he’s El Idioso.” True. Rex gets Dominic to kick him in the balls. Cory: “Some people like hand-holding, for others it’s a backrub. For Rex, it’s a nice kick in the junk.” I see. The boys try writing an impromptu song for Rex. The best line is from Cory: “It’s not a coincidence that Rex rhymes with man-sex.” Bwa. Then they start singing “House of the Rising Sun.” Big mistake. At least it’s not “Fade Into You.” Ohhhhh, yeah -- they're drinking Natty Lite. Only the best for our man Rex.
Quick! Merch totals! Now!
FLICK -- $30
HARLOW, SWEET CHARIOT -- $205
CRACKHEADSWHOSUCK -- $136
Okay, so it’s Tuesday. Show day. Woo. Hoo. Not.
It’s 5:20 AM, and SOULCRACKER is just arriving for their "Good Morning Memphis" gig at FOX 13. They set up and play, and one of the host interviews Slutton. “I think if all these Memphis people come out to our show and buys lots of CDs and t-shirts, we’ll have a pretty good chance of staying on tour.” Yeah, nice way to totally alienate an audience, dude. “These Memphis people”? What are they, lepers? Come on, dude.
HARLOW is worried about the amount of people coming to the show tonight. Not interesting.
SOULCRACKER goes to Rhodes College after their morning show to promote. AP pretty much passes out, and Sutton serenades some college betties. Ramsey: “Our promotion was so scattershot. AP was passed out, I think I had a second-day hangover from the casino experience. Beastie was really going after people guerrilla style.” How old is Ramsey, anyway? He looks like he’s fifteen. Anyway, Sutton serenades some college girls as we go to commercial.
Back at the Flying Saucer, there’s an acoustic performers' night in which Brandin is performing. Dominic: “I almost had to bust a tear 'cause it was very, very good. He blew me away when he sung the song.” He really does sound good. Brandin has a terrific voice. Cory: “I think a lot of people were really impressed.” I’ll say. Every eye in the place is on Brandin, and nobody’s talking. That’s awesome. They rocked on Wednesday, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there.
Over at The Last Place On Earth, HARLOW is getting ready for their gig. Rebecca is vexed because she just heard that SOULCRACKER’s venue is the place to be on Tuesday nights. Chimene: “Goddamn SOULCRACKER every time!” Rebecca: “I don’t want to sound like a spoiled, bitter bitch, but they have had almost every advantage, while we have had every disadvantage. It’s like, throw us a bone every once in a while.” She’s getting really pissed. She normally doesn’t get this way. She’s also a bit pissed that there are only four paying HARLOW fans in the club, and they’re on in twenty minutes. I would be, too. Amanda: “Rebecca’s a little sister, so she’s obsessed with what’s fair and all that. I’m a big sister, so I’m used to the baby getting whatever it wants and that’s the way it goes, y’know?” No, I don’t think I do, actually. Sars, you gotta lend me that siblings book you told me about. Then maybe I will know. Y’know?
Over at the Young Avenue Deli, SOULCRACKER is getting their groove on. Everyone seems to be digging them (they obviously don’t know the whole story), especially the guy with the American flag helmet on. He rules, even though he likes CRACK. In between songs, Sutton says, “Number 73, your turkey club is ready.” Is funny, no?
FLICK is rocking out, and they have a ton of people at their show. Cory: “I was completely blown away by the turnout.” Some girl Dominic met named Jennifer (as if it matters) brings in about fifteen people. They sound great, as they always do.
HARLOW has twelve people in the audience. Waps. Rayshele: “At the show, we only had twelve people, but the people that were there did like us, it was cool.” Chimene: “The only thing that saved us in Memphis was that we had a good show onstage. We had a lot of fun.” Aw. I’m happy for them. They didn’t get a lot of people, but they had fun, and isn’t that all that matters? That and money? Aw, yeah. Dude, Rayshele just smiled. Nice.
Bob: “The deli was great. People were really digging it. We finally got a good crowd.” Beastie’s met a girl with “really big boobs.” Don’t you mean “ba-ba-boobies”? She is actually pretty cute. Talking to Sutton and Ramsey outside, Beastie mentions that if either of them was considering getting boners anytime tonight, that they may as well not bother. He’s got it covered. Cute. Not -- you’re a hog, Beastie. The last thing I need stuck in my head is the image of Beastie sporting wood down below. Yech. Gross. “Her boobs and my boner were working against my morals.” And my taste. And my appetite. Shut up, Beastie. Oh, and nice fake moustache. What the hell?
Time to hear the final scores for Memphis:
Ticket Sales:
FLICK -- $316
HARLOW -- $84
CRACK -- $330 (Damn.)
Merch:
FLICK -- $180
HARLOW -- $215
CRACK -- $431 (Dammit!)
Total Tour Earnings:
FLICK -- $5382
HARLOW -- $6008
CRACK -- $6650 (DAMMIT!)
Something new and different. Not. When is CRACK gonna bite it already? Crap!
Everyone feels pretty much defeated. Cory: “If we try harder, SOULCRACKER’s gonna try harder. Yeah, we could start busting our ass, but then they’re just gonna play thirty-two shows a day!”
Sutton wants to pass a “no whining” rule. I’m with him. “AP does nothing but bitch about how we have it so bad off.” Yeah, he does. He’s a little bitch.
HARLOW pulls into the parking lot of the hotel at the same time as SOULCRACKER. Chimene: “Oh, look. SOULCRACKER’s here first, as always.” Word. “I hate those guys.” Again, word. Sutton’s the only cool one.
Drunken fun at the FLICKERSTICK camp. Some girl is trying to molest Brandin, but he’s not having her. Cory: “Dominic had one girl and she left, then the other girl who was trying to feel Brandin’s junk jumped up on Dominic and they went to the bathroom.” Cory and Fletcher, of course, have their ears up against the door and are giggling into their hands.
Sutton’s girl is coming to visit. Great. Not. Don’t care.
Toothy’s getting it on with Breasty when she mentions she’s got a boyfriend. Sorry, Beastie. Blue balls for you, my non-friend. Mwa ha ha! Beastie’s worried about Rebecca. Whatever, dude. I don’t care about this little cry for attention. It’s not gonna work on me. Shut up, Beastie.
Jennifer, Dominic’s first girl of the evening, has just called back. Dom is still in the bathroom, fooling around with what’s-her-name. Anyway, Dom takes off to hang with Jennifer. What’s-her-name proceeds to flash everyone, including the cameras, and tries once again to get into Brandin’s pants, which he, again, isn’t having. “I don’t know who that girl was, but I have never felt more violated in my entire life.” "Violated"? Well, maybe…but…I dunno. [“I’d let her do me.” -- Sal Primeux] ["And catch the herpes she got from Dom? Ew." -- Sars]
week…SOULCRACKER breaks the sacred “no girlfriends on the road” policy. Dom hits up a strip club. Amanda hooks up some more lesbionic action (dude, she gets more ass than Dominic), which Cory tries to get a piece of. HARLOW plays at Medieval Times. Dominic arm-wrestles Bob, and kicks his ass. Nice. 'Til then!