I am writing this to simply inform everyone that Wood Patty is with us and has fungus legs that allow a lighter, faster drumming. The bones have been tossed, the fungus is omniscient. Those of you concerned for our luminous black sun quest may fret no longer. We have been given some chance to shop via Phillipe Bicycle Servie in Paris for some final eye adjustments.
Those of you who were at the festival in Hasselt and were dissapointed by the lack of interesting bands and guest list may direct letters to said festival members. The highlight of having our road manager from Antwerp, a Mr. Schizoid, sliced into the head by the Wiede Ningah may like to know that he is out of the hospital and has used some modern photograph equipment to highlight his sight of all the shows so far, excepting one. A fantastic photographer!
Paris is a place where people look at you like bored cats. You interest them for a glance when you smile before they raise tail and eyes other places. Do not ask for directions, the shrugs and frustrations have given us all nightmares. See You Plate means nothing. I cannot help the fact I am ignorant. I read Chateu de Champaigne four times before realizing it was a building and not a street name. It would help if things were put together much like the United States system.
Our hosts and all the fans are out of the ordinary and exceptional. There was a note taker in the front row also last night! The club Les Boots was inside of a train tunnel which was next door to a stolen nazi train car. A very large building covered in animals with exposed breasts and milk droplets.
Going backwards: the festival in Hasselt was a choke o sphere with some simple food and bores hovering here and there. I didn't see much of the show having to prattle in the Hill Room for a bit avoiding the sore thorax I had procured from the past nervous smokers who seem to be drawn to these shows. Only 3 smokers were seen in the entirity of the Caroliner set. They were assaulted by Goat Pulp and cowed into only taking notes with the choking brain tools they were given. The Rubber 0 Cement computer show was not what I would call essential in this show. The bass player was reduced to a Solaris Marble that flowed around the stage, the future computer was stationary. The sounds were fairly odd for them, mostly confusing. Smegma was the usual core troupe of the band. A pelvic rubber diaphragm was a highlight as it was put through a monkey armpit or tunnel. The people of Hasselt were excited about this to the extent that they all screamed for quite a while afterwards.
The Rotterdam and Planetart shows were fantastic festivals of 1800s joy yet only attended by well dressed dutch or human conspiracy fountains. I will give more information soon.