And here I am in the local pub, with a bitch of an allergy attack, watching light rain freckle the ground. Five hours’ sleep on the plane, but my vision’s already starting to fuck with me a bit. Waiting for the allergy meds to kick in, and then I’ll head home and sleep for a few hours before taking my family out to dinner.
Did I mention Andy Hurley from Fall Out Boy came by the Chicago show to hang out? What a nice guy. And, as a non-drinker, hugely amused by my progressively getting more smashed during my Friday night gig. Which was extraordinarily well attended, by the way. In lieu of a new talk — once again, no time to write one — I read from CROOKED LITTLE VEIN for the first time, and, thank God, everyone laughed in the right places. After that. it was supposed to be about an hour and forty five minutes of Q & A, taking us up to the midnight point. We overran by an hour. It’s as close to stand-up comedy as anything, and I had to laugh when Ariana said afterwards, ”you’ve got some new material, then?” Anyway, it seemed to go down pretty well. Amusing to see how often I was misquoted in the next day’s reviews.
Vision’s packing up. To bed with me.