Badass Film Tour – Day 13: Vomit Vessel to Victoria y mas Seattle
July 26, 2010
Right before I left town on the bus today, I had the first official sighting of one of my friends from Austin out here on the road. It was Aaron “Honkey-Head” Wallace who came down and met me at Shorty’s for a couple of Pabst Blue Ribbons in my waning hours. He’s in Washington for a family reunion. I bet the heads at that thing would put a hat maker’s kids through college. There’s going to be more head at that reunion than there was in Deep Throat, the movie. I heard Skeletor isn’t going to the reunion because he’s jealous. Heads, it is…
The bus ride was four hours long, and there were only two stops where you had a chance to run into the nearest store. As you know, alcohol is strictly prohibited on the Greyhound, so you have to act quickly and fly under the radar if you want to get drunk on a bus ride. At the first store, the lady working the counter wouldn’t sell me any beer because she knew I was on the bus. She has just taken it upon herself to enforce the bus’ rules on people when they come into her store on break. I’ve never been so let down by society. At the second store, it was called “Holt’s Market”. Now that’s more fucking like it!
I was so inspired by Holt’s Market, and the fact that they would unquestioningly sell beer to people who came in during the bus stop, that I decided to turn my whole life around. Seriously, that’s actually what this whole trip was about, me getting my shit together and becoming something in life. I felt really uplifted and positive about everything after this stop, and haven’t looked back since. Except right here, about 10 minutes later in the bus lavatory, when I slammed a 24-ounce Keystone in a minute and a half on our way down I-5.
I’m on a boat. A boat decked out with the Union Jack. Headed to Victoria, B.C., Canada. Sure, it’s my own damn fault for not properly researching this wet leg of the trip, but it turns out that getting to Victoria is a huge pain in the ass. It runs upwards of a few hundred bucks to drive/ferry to the island. And to hoof it / hop a boat, it’ll still sting for the likes of 125 donuts. So I dropped the scratch and walked my ass onto the boat. And here I sit, in the hole already. A best-case scenario has me breaking even tonight. If there are enough asses in seats and I can move some merch, that is.
Vancouver already took a forty-dollar bite out of my ass and now I’m in the red for an additional 125 just to get to Victoria. Canada is really enjoying fucking with me, it seems. On top of that, I’m stuck in Victoria for the night as there are no boats back until the morn. I’m not sure where I’ll be crashing this eve, but I’ll toss out the nets and hope to reel in a couch, bed or floor to catch some zZzs on. I’ll do what I can to make the best of it. Maybe Victoria is a party-balls kinda place. Updates soon.
The smell of vomit stings the nose-hairs. We hit a rough patch of water and half the boat went sheet-white, beaded-up with sweat and lost their lunch. My lunch was a half a loaf of pecan-bread with a chunk of smoked cheese. Not the most pleasant odor to burp-up considering the puke-stench wafting about, but so far, my gut is sitting tight. The ship is filled with miserable-looking people heaving around. Now I know what it must have been like to be on a slave ship.
We got some killer press in Monday Magazine in Victoria: http://mondaymag.com/articles/entry/confessions-of-an-austin-weirdo/
I’m manning the box office right now. The crowd ain’t huge, but they are digging the flicks. I might have found a couch to sleep on. We’ll see if the offer still stands after Total Badass finishes…
Three old people just walked out of Total Badass. It’s about time!!! I’ve been waiting for and expecting walk-outs. I can’t believe it took this long to happen. I’m slightly offended that folks have not walked out sooner. But now, I am relieved.
Two more walk-outs! Derby gals this time. Hehe…
Another oldie walks-out! We’re on a roll!!! Not sure what the oldies were doing here… not to be prejudiced about age or nuthin… maybe it’s just to late for them. Or maybe the sight of Chad’s cock finally got to them. It’s hard to tell.
I met a super-nice and cute Victorian woman named Kelly who offered a place to crash. We took a midnight stroll around the waterfront to her pad and had some fun. That was nice!
Posted on July 30, 2010, in crashtoons, Film Tour, Hell on Wheels, screenings, Total Badass and tagged Aaron “Honkey-Head” Wallace, Alcohol, Boats, Bob Ray, Bus, Canada, chad holt, Greyhound, Holt’s Market, Keystone, Monday Magazine, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Victoria, Vomit, Water. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.