Doc's diary and Frenzal Rhomb blog
Entry 04
2001-10-14
Afternoon gang. Lindsay back with yas again. Show tow last night in Harlow. Lovely little place full of adventure and bargain priced trinketry for those of us with a little too much time on our hands and no real concept of the exchange rate. A pair of oversized novelty glasses with windscreen wipers on them for only Ł9, bargain! Of courese that's about $50 australian. Anyway, photos coming soon, I promise.
The weather was just not shit enough for us to get a little game of soccer going yesterday too, the Useless ID boys giving us a good run for our money. Decided to make it the sport of the tour. And the winning band our of us, the ID and Slow Gherkin get to piss in the other bands' bunks. Fairs fair, you know.
The show was tops. Heaps of cunts watching, Useless ID and the Gherkin rocking in their individual Israeli and Santa Cruz styles. we even did alright - I'nm constantly amazed that bad guitar notes and an incessant stream of abuse can pass for entertainment these days. Frenzal fans are a special bunch indeed.
Club le Flap was in full effect after the show. Flaphats, beers, funny smelling cigarettes and rock 'n' roll setting the mood perfectly for post-gig relaxation. Useless ID also showed a very valuable trait - once their drunk and stoned they can't help making sandwiches for everyone. And they're all vegos too, making it all the better aboard the flap-bus.
We're in Highbury today, the London show, and things are looking good so far. Talk to you tomorrow from the Netherlands, or perhaps I'll just get drunk and forget all about you.
Yours in affection from across the seas,
Lindsay xox
Entry 03
2001-10-13
G'day cunts, Gordy here taking over from the good Doctor while he's off fucking a British cousin he didn't know he had. Someone said something about us playing shows or something dumb to that effect, and here's me thinking we just turn up and they give us arseloads of beer for doing cock - all, alas, off to work we go.
Bus picked us up @ hotel, we pick our bunks, or cradles of filth, collect Useless ID whome we;re sharing the bus with, go to gig, drink piss, smoke bongs, play neck more piss, hang out with mates, get paid Ł40,000, thank the naked midgets for washing our balls, jump in our solid gold lear jet... oops, jetlag's a muthafucking beeatch.
GORDY
Entry 02
2001-10-12
Good afternoon there boys and girls. So, we woke today to hear the heartbreaking news that a certain short, fat, balding arsehole had successfully used a scare campaign of fear, xenophobia and propaganda to win another term as Prime Minister of Australia. As Derryn Hinch would say, Shame, Australia, Shame! Goes to show what can happen when too many people choose believing the biased right-wing media over thinking for themselves. Fuck it sucks to be Australian at the moment. Jason suggested practising our Kiwi accents so people in Eurotown don't find out we're from a heartless, America-aping country. I guess it explains why Fred Nile's always going on about the sexual deviancy problem in this country. Our Prime Minister's an arsehole acting like a cunt.
Still, on a more positive note, we got personal TV's in our seats today, for the 12 and a half hour trip from Tokyo to London Heathrow. Movies of varying credibility, games and Scandinavian pop music all helped the many cramped hours just fly by. The Inflight Bar and Casino was open again for business, and we enjoyed many drinks as we flew above the icy peaks of Siberia. Ahh, so romantic.
No real problems getting into this country, bar the expected finger up the arse from those sexually adventurous customs officials, and here we are in London. It's 9:00 at night, it feels like 4 in the morning and this day feels like it's already been going for 20 hours, probably because it's already been going for 20 hours. I think it's time for bed now - no doubt to wake up at five in the morning feeling like it it's midday.
Yep. Here I am, it's five in the morning and it feels like midday. No chance of getting back to sleep, and the shit-eating porn channel's not working.
Fuck jetlag rules.
On another note, while I am stuck here awake, have you noticed how very diligent I'm being with this tour diary? Two entries in two days. Obviously lulling you all into a false sense of security, because the second this tour gets going and the riders begin appearing, everything's going to change. This diay, just like showering, will become nothing more than a distant memory of something I was supposed to do every day.
You have been warned.
Love enternally,
Lindsay Frenzal
Entry 01
2001-10-11
Hey there ladies and gents, it's Lindsay here, your bargain-basement priced escort in the Frenzal Rhomb Massage Parlour, welcoming you to tour diary entry #1 for Frenzal's second foray into Euroland. The date is the very palindromic 10/11/01, the place; Hotel Nikko, Narita, Tokyo, Japan; overnight stopover on our way to Euroville.
The trip so far has been relatively uneventful. Japan Airlines have been very good to us, coming thru with vego meals and letting us take on all the guns and anthrax we wanted - & not charging excess. There was a price obviously - inflight entertaiment. Forgive me for being so critical, but that guy from New Kids On The Block's younger brother fingering various primates in a remake of that movie starring that head arsehole fromn the National Rifle Association isn't going to keep me sedate for 9 and a half hours. So in an attempt to relieve the monotony, Gordy, Fun Police officer Brendan Newhnam and myself reconvened to the rear of the aircraft to create our own way of passing the time. Namely the Inflight Casino. Unfortunately, Kirin Ichiban beer and Gin Rummy proved a turbulent combination, and the seatbelt signs lit up after only two hands, forcing us back to the safety and tedium of our allocated seats.
After what seemed like 9 and a half hours, probably because it was, the wonderful plane finally landed and following the obligatory pocket, wallet and body cavity search we're cordially welcomed to Japan for the night. Here, we split up into factions. Tour Manager A-Drian, Lex and Brendan wonder off into town, Brendan anxious to be the first ever Irish Australian to eat Indian in a western-style restaurant in Japan. Jason and myself make our way upstairs to sample the fruits of the Sushi bar and beer bar; and Gordy falls asleep on the toilet for the night. Some pickled radish nori rolls, miso soup and a few beers later and here we are. In the hotel room, watching Rain Man and looking forward to 12 and a half more beautiful hours on Japan Airlines tomorrow, on our way to Eurodale and certain continued inebriety.
Stay tuned for day two, full of more big words and bad jokes, coming very soon.
Here's hoping you didn't vote Liberal,
Lindsay.