Shooting Blanks live at Rube's
Saturday Sept 6th
w/ The Hacks, Ratbag Hero and BORD

This was more then a show; it was truly an 'event'. Weber hooked up a school bus to pick us up and drop us off. It said 'Latino Express' on the side and it cost $250. I ended up throwing in $49 myself but it was worth it. I got up at noon, my brother picked me up and we went to Dennys. I got the Moons over my Hammy. Then we drove down to bridgeport. When I walked up to Webers door at around 1:30 pm he was already swillin an old style. Weber jumped in and we went to the liquor store. I had to stay with the Old Style theme and I scored a 6 -pack of 16 oz. cans. Went back to Webers and started drinkin. It was just me, Weber, Koz, the singer from the Hacks at their roadie. We watched the Sox game as they trounced Cleveland. The Hacks roadie looks like Brad Pitt and he started telling stories about having his jaw wired shut and blending up a salisbury steak. He said you have to carry around like a wire cutters in case you ever have to puke, so you can cut the wires off and let out the puke. He said he puked one time but didn't cut it off and he just let the barf spray out from between his teeth.

Soon the guys from BORD showed up and we went about having a wiffle ball game. The teams were:

Me
Tim from BORD
Mike from BORD
Koz from Ratbag Hero

vs.

Weber from Ratbag Hero
The Hacks roadie (I am an ass for forgetting his name)
Brad from The Hacks
Rob from the Hacks

We ended up losing 9-2 but it was a good game. Weber pitched a strong game even though the ball was half-destoyed when the game started (and got worse as it progressed).

Soon after that the bus showed up and we loaded that bitch up. Weber straighted everything out with the bus driver, so we brought a gang of beers on the bus with us and continued to drink and whoop it up. We soon arrived at Rube's and the place appeared to be shutdown. Matt had ridden on the bus with me but Dan was no where to be found. He had told Matt he would drive directly to the club. Brey was already out becasue he was sick, and now we were asking Scott from Ratbag Hero to play the drums for us. This was going to be not-good. There were PA speakers but no head, mics or stands. Also there is some problem between the promoter and the club owner and hes bitching saying they owe him $450 for the gig. Then they are charging $7 a head to get in. Sweatergirl ended up canceling earlier in the day and it was starting to look pretty fucked up. I tried to draw Weber aside and ask what the deal was but he was so drunk by now it was in one ear and out the other. I saw Chuck and asked him to please find out what the deal was. The promoters showed up and then they immediatley turned back to get us our PA heads and other gear. Things started to look up. Everyone was chillin outside wasting time, Chuck and his lady scored some fried chicken (what else in Harvey) and got their grub on in the car. People were just openly drinkin beers (and spillin em!) and me and the HAcks roadie went to smoke a bowl, we were basically just smokin the shit out in the open. And then luckily Dan showed up and we had some semblance of a Shooting Blanks lineup ready to jam. We chilled at the bar and continued to drink more shitty can beer (I soon switched to Rolling Rock -- not a personal favorite, but along with Corona, the only non-can options I had available at a semi-reasonable $4 a pop). The lovely bartender and lovely promoter/door person also showed up for our Low Profile gig at Bigwig the next day.

Ratbag Hero took the stage first. Everyone was fired up and it was a great set. Next up was BORD, their 2nd guitarist showe up like 5 minutes before the set, plugged in and jammed. As soon as the set ended, he bolted. They covered the Decendants 'Hope' and I had to grab a mic and sing along on the whole thing. Everyone was fighting for mics and getting crazy. The room started to seriously smell like shit from the combination of spilled beer and intense BO from everyone there (including 2 touring bands, you can only imagine). I got sick of waiting around and just started plugging in and shit as soon as BORD went off stage. I was very eager to start. Hilger and Lisa showed up and I gave Hilger my camera to snap some pics with. The set was a blur of crazy shit happening, everyone was singing, grabbing for mics, Koz was punching me and my bass and tried to lift me up on his shoulders. He later dove headfirst into Dan and the drums.Koz later took a spare snare drum and smashed out some ceiling tiles. In this pic, you can see him about to do it as I rock out to a Shooting Blanks anthem with my fist in the air (check the reflection in the mirror!).

We kept rocking and Hilger was calling out songs for us to play. I know we closed with 'Silly Goose' but thats about it. I was sweating like a motherfucker and about 8 Old styles came out of my pores and soaked my towel. It felt very natural up there, my priority was rocking out, not trying to remember changes or something. It was a wild success. The Hacks went on last, they covered 'Supermarket Fantasy', a very nice and slighly obscure Screeching Weasel song. They got cut slighly short but were very pissed about it. Their guitarist had a Les Paul and kept hitting the pickup selector on accident, shutting his guitar off. It was a little irritating and I dont know why he didnt just tape that bitch in place. You would think he would get used to it and stop hitting it accidentally. (Luckily, the next day he busted out a mint Ibanez -- although he had severe tuning issues.)

The guys from BORD ended up stealing a crazy sign from nearby that was completely mispelled. Speaking of mispelled signs, check out the Pube's, oops, I mean Rube's sign. I found this nice little rule posted on the wall. And you know I would never break a rule like that.

We chilled at the club a while longer and killed time then until the LAtino Express returned for us. Koz passed out on the bus after many beers all day long and few hours of sleep the night before. Weber poured a little beer on his head (???) and Koz flipped out and spit all over Weber. Everyone started getting a little loopy and tired, espically Tim -- his alter ego, 'Boxhead', was out in full force.

--satan165

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