Sticky Fingers Tour Diary: Part Two

1 July 2013 | 10:14 am | Sticky Fingers

"Dylan was out of his mind. Talking in tongue on the train and generally being a misfit. I don't reckon the Frenchies knew what to make of us at this point."

There are certain things over here that seem finer in quality. And a hell of a lot cheaper too. One example is the fruit and veggies. There's something about it. Tastes more like its straight out of the earth and into your gob. Like they haven't fucked with it or anything. Another example is a certain substance we had a great time with in Paris the other morning, evening, and night. We were already high as a kite simply being in Paris, but floating around the way we were really took it to the next level. The group started by checking out all the must do's. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, The Louvre, etc. We'd stop at a bar and recharge between each of these sights. And our gorgeous friend Liv made an excellent tour guide.

Sorry to our livers!

The gang ended up back at our friend's place and having a party. We met some really interesting characters including a Parisian film director, who we convinced to shoot us a film clip sometime over the next five weeks. Like I said before, we were feeling pretty good at the time so that one may have to be left up to fate.

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Dylan, Seamus, Beaks, and myself stuck around Paris for the above prescribed fun while Jimmy and Crabs took care of business. Driving to Amsterdam and picking up Jimmy's lost luggage. They enjoyed a more sophisticated evening with our Dutchy friend Truck enjoying whiskies on the rocks and the delights of a 60,000 Euro sound system. The plan was to all meet up in Metz for the next show. And I'll tell ya what , following the all nighter, me and the other lads had a pretty rough time seeing this out. It was probably our low light of the tour thus far. Anxiety was at an all time high and morale an all time low. I was convinced I was going to die right there on the train station. But spewing up a few times was the less dramatic reality. Dylan was out of his mind. Talking in tongue on the train and generally being a misfit. I don't reckon the Frenchies knew what to make of us at this point. Lucky we felt safe with all the train guards armed with M16's hanging around. 

The stark contrasting moments of touring...

I forget the French name for the joint, but the other night we stayed in a place that in English translates to The Village of 1000 Balconies. Napoleon (The French Warlord) lived there way back in the day. He demanded that all residents build a balcony off their home so they could all stand out and applaud him as he came and left the village. We ended up staying in this beautiful place because we got hooked up with a dude called Phil who owns a hotel there. We've become good friends. So much so that he gave us a hotel to ourselves. A relaxing getaway turned out to be exactly what we needed. In between all the shows and driving we've been busy celebrating Jimmy's birthday. Beaker's is coming up next week on the 11th. Sorry brain. Sorry liver. Sorry mum.

The shows continue to be a blast with hugely receptive crowds and things seem to keep getting weirder. Last night Dylan and Jimmy ended up prancing around in dresses at an after party. Strangely I think the French girls were impressed with their feminism swagger. Still having heaps of fun, making it on time to all the shows and we haven't pissed anybody off too badly yet. Peace, love, cheers, beers, and all that. As we head to Holland soon we wanna give a big shout out to Boumchaka crew for putting up with us idiots all throughout France. Tooka Tuka Mother Fuka.

This happened.