Fuck Skratch Magazine !!!
Now you may be asking yourself... why would someone be saying such slanderous, mean spirited things about a "magazine" that does it’s best to promote the local music scene, right? Well, if you have a few minutes, read the story and you’ll find out why I would say such bad things about a piece of shit money-first-music-second crap filled magazine that does it’s best to exploit the hard work of the bands that are actually stupid enough to pay to be in that magazine! Fuck them, especially Keith. And fuck their magazine too.
Today’s story actually has 4 distinct parts to it kiddies…
· Part 1 ~ California Dreaming
· Part 2 ~ Tweekers Suck
· Part 3 ~ Riot On Sunset Strip?
· Part 4 ~ Fuck Skratch Magazine
Click on the links to read about The Loud Pipes latest adventures in Hollyweird and in Tweekerside, CA. Woot Woot!
In case anyone would like to contact Me or my Lawyers regarding the validity of the things stated within this web site, or to discuss any possible legalities such as slander or defamation of character, please click here … or here … or here Thank you. And please, no calls from Scientific Research Centers, OK?
Oh yeah... new look for the web site... same old crap though. No improvements in that. :-)
FUCK SKRATCH MAGAZINE!!!
We all woke up... long after Roxie did, 'cuz she went to the pool and swam laps for hours before we were even up... and after we all showered (Bryan took like an hour!) we headed off to Shakey's for some grub before we figured out what we were gonna do for the day. After we gouged ourselves sick on the Luncheon Buffet, we headed off to find some places to drop off flyers and try to get people to come out and see the show. We hung at the park, went to the mall... a skate shop... Electric Chair... some music stores... and decided to go to the club a bit early to check it out. As we got there, the employees were setting up for Father's Day business... and they had no idea about a show that was supposed to be happening that night. They called the owner of the Club for us and he said that Skratch Magazine had called him about 2 month ago regarding the show, but they never called back. Holy Dog Shit! There's no show! Or maybe it was a conspiracy that the other 2 bands we were supposed to play with (Amerikan Made and Endothrot) cooked up, in order to make us leave early so that they could win. Sorry, I was thinking like The Black Jetts there for a second... heh heh heh. The owner was nice enough to offer us some food, but we were still full from Shakey's so we declined his offer and quickly decided what to do. Bryan and Jesse both knew that Curl Up And Die were playing somewhere in Newport Beach, and since we were in California anyways... with all of our equipment... why not try to weasel our way onto the bill and try to play a 20 minute set. Bryan called Mike and told him of our plans... he laughed and said the only way we'd get on the bill was if some band cancelled. After leaving some nasty messages on Skratch Magazine's answering machine, we barreled our way down the 91 to the 57 to try to get to this club. A little chance to play was better then none, right? Everyone was feeling a bit antsy and grumpy, and decided to take it out on each other... nothing serious, just some love taps to the groin area... thighs... arms. And then it was on... The Loud Pipes Wrestling Match! At 80 miles an hour Hank (who was acting brave the whole weekend, for some reason) and Bryan started beating each other up in the back of the van over what was posted on Airbag, I think!!! Hank punched Bryan in the nuts and Bryan shoved his fist up Hanks ass. Pitt jumped on top of Bryan and started pumping away on Bryan's ass and Rick jumped on top of them all and started pumping Pitt in the ass! Bryan and Pitt were beating each other up, and Rick and Pitt were having gay sex on top of them! hahahaha Me and Roxie were laughing hysterically, and Jesse was yelling at everyone to stop it, or he was pulling the van over and beating up everybody! LOL Sorry Dad! hahaha As we sat in the obvious California traffic, Bryan called Mike and asked for directions to the club. He threw some street names out, which made sense at the time (Quail? Campus? Jamboree?), and we made our way to Hoagie Barmichael's in Newport Beach. And as we drove in circles around Newport Beach, Jesse called Matt and asked him for directions, since he was driving the CUAD van. Matt gives Jesse directions, which just got us a little closer, but still driving in circles. Jesse made Rick get out and ask directions, to no avail, but when Roxie asked some dude from In-N-Out Burgers for directions, he knew EXACTLY where to go! (thanks braaaah!) So we pull up in front of the club and make our presence known. We hang with Curl Up And Die and just chill out and watch the crowd of O.C. kids queue up for the gig. Gus and Mike were devising a way to sneak us into the club (which involved wristbands and bubble gum) when Pitt ran into his friend Ron Martinez, a big promoter in the Cali Punk Scene. He used to be the singer from a band called Final Conflict, for those of you who remember them. After Pitt told him about the show being cancelled in Riverside, Ron calls Skratch Magazine and left a nasty message on their answering machine (Now you're gonna fuck with bands on my side of the fence? Fuck you!), and told Pitt that he would call the owner of Skratch Magazine and tell him what this kid Keith was doing to his magazines reputation. Nice. We were told we couldn't play, cuz all the bands showed up, and after Ron begged the owner of the club (They came all the way from Vegas... this is Mike's Punk Rock Uncle!), he let us in for free to see Curl Up And Die tear shit up. Really fucking fun. We drank... some of us got drunk (Pitt & Hank)... some of us schmoozed (Jesse & Roxie)... and me and Rick just drank and smoked and talked about stealing planes and running over dumb O.C. kids with them. About half way thru the show, Jesse realized that he locked the keys to the van inside the van, and thought he was gonna have to remember how to break into cars again (like he ever forgot how!). Fortunately for us, Jesse didn't have to break into the van, because Pitt is a card carrying member of Triple AAA. When the show was over, Pitt made the call to Triple AAA and after a bit of fussing and grunting, we were back in the van and on our way back home. Hank and Pitt were both drunk and started a water fight in the back of the van, dousing all within arms reach with liquid fun. Poor Roxie's sleeping bag got soaked! We tried to eat at a IHOP, but with Pitt being his loud boisterous self and him and Hank still throwing water at each other inside of the restaurant, we decided to leave. Plus the prices were really expensive... more than usual. We drove around in circles some more in Newport Beach, and after stopping at In-N-Out for some grub and directions once again... we made it home. Hell sweet Hell. We unloaded the Equipment... took some more Pictures... and said our goodbyes. As always, an awesome time. Hopefully Arizona will be this fun!