Wow,
It’s 3:04 a.m. I’m literally bleeding from my eye, haven’t eaten in two days, going without out sleep for longer, but I’m actually o.k. with, in fact, I feel pretty good. I’m in Daytona Beach, Florida, the tour persists.  Someone was gracious enough but irresponsible enough to fly The Soundshaker and I down here for two days before our show without our parents or anyone to govern our actions… Apparently since I got here five hours ago, everyone has seen me naked and I have two large, I repeat large swollen, bleeding, abrasions on my head.. wtf? Am I that childish and out of control that I can just black out, get naked and disregard my basic human needs such as sleep, food, shelter??? Yes…… this who I am, there’s no running or hiding from it.

Fuck…….
So, the tour is finishing up just fine, splendidly even. We made it to New York, played the Bowery Poetry Club with The Shinobi Ninjas, under much stress The Soundshaker handled all the driving, bless his heart, I would have melted down. We then made it to Cambridge, MA where the town couldn’t handle us. We befriended two lovely, large hearted ladies (Sarah & Meghan) that took us in, embraced our drinking problem, and let us sing and play at their apartment until the sun rose. A scenario like this literally and miraculously unfolds everywhere we go:  I hand out a cd to somebody I’ve never met before, they come to the show, we stay at their house, Lama makes out with both of them before I claim stake, we become friends, I right a blog about it. We went as far as New Hampshire, which is a beautiful state.

The area we stayed at called Antrim doesn’t allow chain restaurants, and will not allow the sale of small lots of land, therefore, the city stays spacious and seemingly unaffected by the overwhelming heart draining trends and ideals of MTV.  (The Soundshaker is a fucking saint, he’s been the responsible one, brought me a burger while I was passed out, which I am now enjoying as I write this blog, hope I can keep it down) We stayed with this beautiful couple (Denise and Brian Zimmer). They have a life I could aspire to someday after I wear this streak out of me. They have an endearing home overlooking the Appalachians, a golden retriever and a slightly skiddish weimer reiner named Socrates.

Apparently lobster is less expensive than hamburger in New England, which didn’t make the incredible dinner they made any less profound to three starving artists. From the depths of my heart, THANK YOU for that! We built an appetite by going for a hike that nearly killed the Soundshaker. The implementation of exercise and healthier food to offset drinking and other incidentals really helped, in fact, I would say it was vital to the joyful sentiment we’ve all indulged in through the entire tour. The next day we headed back to NY where I hopped a plane to get back to Wisconsin to partake in this songwriting competition being held by 105.5 fm. It was pretty serious, pretty stiff competition. If you have a second check out my new songs and please vote for me!!! You just page down below the videos and vote fore me!!! Please!!

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I performed my song at the competition, then literally went right back to the airport and was back to the tour in York, PA before I knew it.  We have some great friends in York, P.A. My friend Regis is a God, he takes care of us proper every time we’re in the area and this time was no exception. We played a haunted hotel called, The Lafayette Club. It used to be an all men’s club, frequented by presidents and high society. There were literally a dozen signed photographs of presidents who had stayed there in past years. We loaded in, set up and then began drinking. I had two Crown and 7’s before I sat down to one of the most amazing filet’s I’ve ever had. Incredible food, incredible staff, Ed Lincoln, the manager treated us like presidents, which makes him a bad-ass in my book. Apparently he stayed up with Lama till 6am playing guitar as well. We unfortunately had to inhale our food as we were running behind schedule; the audience was getting restless. Before I could get to the stage I was stopped twice by people insisting that I take shots with them; I did. I also somehow managed to slam a glass of red wine that I was supposed to drink with my dinner but didn’t have time to, etc… I’m drunk, but in the zone.

I left the stage mid-song to rile up the audience, something that usually happens near the end of the set if I’ve drank too much. It was half way through the first song and I was out there doing David Lee Roth kicks and shit. I don’t know how we don’t get black barred from some of these places for my antics, but we don’t. People enjoy themselves, and always ask us back and I’m always like…. “How did that happen”?  Lama played half time before we joined him for the third set. The kitchen staff smoked Lama and I up, and then the Chef fed me these little mouse filled flakey crust jobbers and I was in heaven. I took a minute to acknowledge my reality, smiled, hugged the Chef, flattered him for being so good at his job. Lama and I weren’t even close to being done drinking so we headed out with our friend Sam to a place called Gran Faloons. A typical college meat market, not quite the scene I had envisioned but drinks were on Sam and there were really hot girls dancing on the bar. A scene that I might normally cringe at, but in my heightened state, the girl in the green, thin cotton dress shaking here ass on the bar simply aroused me.

Complete over the line, irresponsible binge drinking ensued. Four stiff drinks and half a dozen shots later turned me and the Lama into fearless-boyfriend alienating- dance machines. I definitely danced with the girl in the green dress, but offended here when I told here that the guy holding her purse at the bar was a dork. I was right, but it was poor tact on my part. I later watched her power puke in a corner only to return to the dance floor and grind a myriad of others. Lama and I got lost trying to walk home. We just sat down in some doorway and gave up. All I remember was peeing and it smelling like asparagus.

I probably would have slept there but The Soundshaker checked up on us, and eventually came and picked us up. I insisted on going to McDonalds after insisting that none of us eat fast food for the whole tour. I know it is horrible for you, but it was nearly as gratifying as the steak I had eaten hours earlier. Back to the hotel and bar. More drinking. Yikes. I had to throw in the towel at 4 am, but Lama was armed with a six pack and just kept going. I found him in the morning passed out on the tile floor of the bathroom, sprawled out like Jim Carey in “Dumb and Dumber” when he falls off the jet way, etc..  I had to go to the bathroom really bad and could not wake him up. I just shook him and hit him and he wouldn’t wake up.  So.. I just deuced with him a foot away from me on the bathroom floor,  just silly. Needless to say, that morning I felt horrible, I couldn’t even talk my voice was so worn out from the show and shouting at the dance party.

We drove to Columbus that day where we stayed with two more friends. I ended up going to a sorority formal with one of the girls, drank too much. Lama had apparently kept pace with me while I was gone because when I met up with him later he was slurring his speech as badly as I was.

O.K. Here is a whopper of a story. There is certain etiquette I’ve learned while touring and while being a guest in someone’s house. An old band mate of mine clogged and overflowed a toilet of the friend we were staying with. I won’t go into the details but it was horrible and things were never the same between the band and that friend after that event. Now, we try to take care of business when we can, at a restaurant, gas station, lobby bathroom, etc… It just removes the likelihood of an incident arising. Well, this particular morning I really had a rusty growler boiling inside of me. All the drinking mixed with Pokey Sticks and ranch sauce at bar time had created a volatile situation in my digestive tract. It couldn’t be avoided, I had to relieve myself. While everyone was eating in the kitchen, I slipped into the bathroom.

I had psyched myself up to go as fast as I could so I could get back to the kitchen table as quickly as possible so no one would even realize I was gone. It went to plan, a quick void ensued. I’m rushing through and flush the toilet. And what do you think happens? Yeah, the fucking toilet clogs!!!! NO, NO, NO, NO!!!! Yes, it happened! I look under the sink, is there a plunger? Hell no! Is there any long disposable object that I could ram in there? Oh, hell no! So I’m literally standing over the toilet staring down at my turd, scratching my head. Here’s my desperate thought process;  “maybe I just need to flush it again and it will go down?” “Yeah, that’s it.” So I flush. The turd does not go down and the water begins to rise. Everything goes slow motion. I envision the poop overflowing, seeping into the living room, the embarrassment, the awkward aftermath, the whole scenario is immanent. The water is now half way up the bowl now and rising. I quickly scurry under the sink, rip out everything inside desperate for a devise that might remedy the problem. Nothing. The toilet water is nearing the top. It’s now inches from the rim and rising.

What’s about to happen is the most profound moment in my life, All of the most horrible things I ever had to do in my life are trumped by this one incident I will remember the rest of my life. With the water now at the rim of toilet and with nowhere to turn, I thrust my hand and arm into the toilet. I grabbed a mass of shit, toilet paper, there was something else my hand didn’t recognize, maybe a tampon, I don’t know, but I grabbed all of it and pulled it free with literally no time left on the clock. You know how people who are in car accidents or are attacked by sharks say they don’t remember what happened. They black out. At a certain point the brain just shuts down to repress the trauma. Well, I remember grabbing the shit but nothing else. Lama says I just walked past the kitchen table, pale, catatonic and went outside. Unfucking real!!! That really happened.

The next show in Champaign was less eventful. There was some confusion with the booking and no support acts were put on the bill. Four people, four awesome people showed up. I was disappointed to be ending the tour on such a seemingly mild show and performance. What do you do? Go drinking. My friend Cyrus, is 19, I believe. He lives in a party house on the University of Illinois campus. We went to his house armed with two handles of booze (thanks again Alissa) I look just a hair too old to be at these types of parties but averted the broish looks and focused on my goal of drowning my sorrows. The next thing I know we grab the p.a. out of the car and set up in the living room. We’re drunk, within two songs the inhabitants are behind us, totally into it. Attention is back on me, I’m happy again We rocked for a good hour till my voice just couldn’t go anymore. We played our final song with our pants off, I don’t why, but that’s how it went down. A definitively better ending to our East Coast/Midwest tour!

Much Love!!!
Mike Droho….