RED FANG

Okay, this is starting to get stupid. John can take crisp, perfectly in focus photos all night long but as soon as the crowd shot comes into play, there is a monkey with a brain injury pressing the shutter button. I think he took this before they even played. Whatever. This cold weather crap is for the birds. Wait, no it’s not, because even birds are smart enough to bounce the hell out when the thermostat starts dropping. I mean, come on, it’s October for Christ’s sake. We should not be scraping the windshield, and by we I mean Aaron, while I smoked and took photos. The drive from Denver to Lawrence takes around nine hours and you lose an hour in the process. As far as drives go this one is right between frontal lobotomy and coma on the mind numbing scale, luckily the weather was bad enough to keep us on our toes. The van was so cold the wheels put on one of those shitty dreadlock hats to try and stay warm: The doors opened for the show at 6:00, so we, of course, rolled in at 6:15 whic...

For the love of Jebus. Look at this photo, it's like I gave a monkey with Tourette's a camera. I'm going to have to start playing tambourine to get a photo of the crowd that's worth a shit. Alright, remember what I was saying about the Clutch fans, how they rule, with the showing up early and the love of all things barley? Well just in case you didn't believe me I got some proof. Exhibit A: This is the line outside a good hour before the doors opened. Not show time. Door time. A big "sorry" goes out to the dude in the front who I blinded with the flash. My B. Exhibit B: Double fisting pitchers of beer. Not glasses or cans, straight pitchers. Animals. Our kinda animals. I think Aaron is starting to lose his mind, for almost an hour he thought he was a cat. After these photos were taken, he spent thirty-five minutes chasing a fake mouse on a string around the green room. I'm not even going to talk about the fur-ball... Bed time. —Coyle Tour to Live!