Bad Ol' Days 3

Mt. ranier was huge and bearing down on us as we boarded the van in the morning . It was hot and that made me feel sick and the ice blue on the peak of Mt Ranier reminded me of the booze I"d been drinking the night before which also made me feel sick. We were in the pink van headed east by southeast and northern soul blasted from the am radio.
In eastern Oregon there is nothing but flat land and scrubby brush that looks like blonde chest hair. I wrote my mom a letter and mailed it from a town called Hard Grounds.
"Dear Mom,
Hope you are not worrying about me too much. I am in the Pacific Northwest. I have seen the wonders of Gods Creation and they have placed peace and joy in my soul. If for the state of my soul you should fear remember that a man must walk through dark valleys at some point during his life. Did you believe that I would not become a man? We have played music throughout this nation and I think it is good and some people think we are funny and ugly and stupid but some people like us. Cole says that we will flourish some day and all these dark times will pass and our mothers will no longer fear for the state of our souls. As we bear our bodies and our equipment across the land I think of you and father and I know that I must bring you no peace, but I know I must bear on. As the peaks rise over the horizon and as the Phoenix rises from the flames so will the pink van rise in heavenly glory from its once lowly state.
With Love Your Son,
Jack
We continued our eastward course into Idaho and crossed the jagged platueas and mesas of that land and became sickened by the violent bobbing of the roadways. The bottom of the state, before passing into Utah, brought us gentle valleys and the need for a rest from our travels. We pulled the pink van into one of the gentle valleys for to make our camp. The pragmatic Joe Bradley sent me to gather logs as he stoked the kindling into flames. Jared tried to build a beaver trap in the nearby creek. Cole set out to get the lay of the land. As our fire reached a sustainable burn and the cheese within our frozen burritos began to sizzle Cole returned with some people he had met at a truck stop across the valley. Two lovely native squalls knelt down among us at our fire and we offered up to them our humble foodstuffs. In return they offered tidings of good weed and strong drink and as we reached intoxication the register of the girls voices descended and it became clear that fair maidens these were not. I don't know quite how nature took it's course but soon Jared and I found ourselves alone by the fire with Trani-tribes stash laid out before us. As we smoked an enormous fatty I fell back on my log and listened to the hooting owl and the ecstatic guttural moans of an Indian fag in mid coitus. I don't know if it was the voice of my God fearing mother or the Great Spirit of that valley but I received a vision. As I stared into the night sky and gazed upon the crescent moon the universe changed to negative, like the negative of a photograph. The black abyss turned blinding white and the stars and the moon turned inky black. The din of the valley rose as all the creatures cried out. The she-males screeched in horrific abandon. A deep peace like death passed over my soul.

the forces that saved music

they say that we learn from history. Thats's mostly appopriated to holocaust talk. shit that went down in germany and rwanda, and the world wars in europe. but outside war mongering there is art. There are a few people that saved this art. and i commend them. for without them there would be no black lips. there would be no rock and roll as we know it.
it started with alan lomax and his father recording the desparate blues and soul that was the american south. what followed was a wave of white motherfuckers in a procession of awe, devouring theses strange beautiful sounds for years to come. I love amaerica for this, and all its many flaws and faults. NORTON records, CRYPT records and BOMP records have documented american roots and pop music. these people are not only music lovers but historians of the utmost degree. they are vital to the continuation of what we love. i love them and you shuold too. they are all we've got left to remember our fathers

Hella yes.(hella=greece in english)

We are among the ancients. In a society that produced greatness.It is a pleasure, and a much needed retreat from the woes of western touring. The scene here in this hotel room is not unlike the opening scene of apocalypse now when martin sheen is drunk and doing karate in his room. only difference is i'm not doing karate in a doomed country. i'm somewhat tipsy and sipping on warm beer in an outdated hotel, and there is no chance i'm going out into the cambodian jungle to exterminate somebody. Unfortunately that probably won't happen to me. My life is boring. I'm just listening to the noisy traffic nd hustle and bustle that is athens.
Yesterday we had the typical athenian outing. climbed the acropolis and saw the parthenon. we also saw alot of american and japanese tourists. we didn't say hello. after that we did mad tv. not the really bad american "comedy" show, but sort of a live mtv style chat. it was cool. We ate the best food ever too. octopus,sardines,feta,calamaris, and a whole bunch of other stuff i don't know the name of but fell in love with. music is not an art. food is. and this region, the medaterranian(sp) is the best place in the world for that, among other things. I'm loving this. hope people come to the show tonight, then it's back to old europe.
jesus loves the little children
black lips

Stranded in Norway.So fucking gay.

Our van is broken. We are in Oslo, Norway. It's hailing outside. They look like diamonds that God finally tired of, and cast them down upon our heads. We've been in Europe for a week or so, and it's really cold. Summer starts in two days though when we get to Greece for our first ever show in the Balkans. Our hotline is down because it doesn't work across the sea. So, sorry for being out of touch.
There's a shitload of white people in Europe. I think i'm gonna go lay down somewhere for a while.
peace out
black lips

Black lips Hotline

we got a new phone and don't know what to do with it so we started a hotline. It's inspired by CB and Hamm radios, because people don't use those anymore, and we think truckers are cool. It'll give us something to do in the van. The minutes will probably expire, and i'm not paying for that shit. give us a ring if you are in trouble, need advice, or are just plain lonely.
949 836 7407

how we met king khan

the first time i met KK was in munich germany, about a week into our first european tour. I had heard very little about him at that point. Only posters of his giant face plastered all over evry club in france and germany. I was just finishing my dinner that the club had cooked for me when a wild eyed indian man in an old german kaiser hat comes up and excitedly introduces himself to me as "blacksnake", then sat down and yammered on talking a mile a minute. I thought he was out of his mind on speed or something but he wasnt. He had hitchiked down from is home in kassel, germany just for the show. We got along pretty well, but we all thought he was crazy. he never stopped talking. The show finally got started and i was doing merch. he was high stepping all over the club and talking to everyone real loud and laughing like a mad man. He came over to the merch table and pulls out his dick and pees on some of our tshirts, then pees into a bottle and tries to drink it and spat it out everywhere. then threw the bottle. Me and cole were kinda pissed because we didn't know him. but he was still funny and charming. We finally start to play and i notice glass bottles being broken everywhere. He was breaking everybottle he could get his hands on, then jumping onstage and screaming. After that he came out with a massive bowl of salad and threw that everywhere. It was getting slippery and chaotic, and i had already slipped and cut my hand on the glass. So he came up and grabbed my hand and drank my blood, and declared us blood brothers. Then he went back to the kitchen and grabbed a huge cake(it was the promoters birthday) and he grabbed big chunks and smeared it everywhere, and on everybody. The germans were terrified. I didn't know what to think. After the show the place was destroyed. A bunch of german girls were following him around and screaming at him and telling us "king khan is not your friend" e turned the show into his own debacle. Backstage we were trying to do an interview, but the angry german girls followed and kept screaming at him. There was a table with about 100 or so beers on it and i guess out of frustration he cleard the whole table. every bottle. It was a fiasco. Interview over. We were asked to leave with our new friend. We got banned from the venue. A few weeks later i wrote him and his family a letter. We played with the shrines for the first time a month after that, and we have been best friends ever since. It took alot of thought. do i love him or hate him. Turns out we love him

Chicken soup for a cocksuckin' soul

If yall want some good music for the time bein here's my list
Los saicos-available on munster records
the mighty hannibal-on norton records
back from the grave- on crypt records
Jaques Dutronc-i had the internet and so do you
tarkus- peruvian awesomeness good luck
the germs- yall know whats up
the falcons- lu pine records(and evrything that detroit label did)
and for the rest you'll find a plethora of the best shit ever from NORTON records, CRYPT records, and BOMP records.
google or wiki this shit NOW NOW NOW!!!!!!