Gatorface are the latest band to be joining us for a series of Dispatches. Alex Gatorface will be checking in for the next week to recount a recent series of shows with Virgins in support of their recent Sick and Stupid 10". The band will be playing Harvest of Hope in March. In the meantime,
Last night we played Gainesville at the Atlantic for Tony Weinbender and Ryan Geisâ birthday party. Ninja Gun and Hawks and Doves played too, and it was fun. After the show half of us kept drinking and the other half got Taco Bell and passed out. We awoke to the bellowing of Samuel Wesley Johnson at 7:30 in the morning. He was getting us up to get on the road. Sam never went to sleep. He drank all night with Ryan who works at No Idea. After getting up we lost the keys to the van twice in a 15-minute span. Sam ended up pantsless on Tonyâs front lawn for about 15 minutes in the warm morning sunshine, and getting him to get his shit together took forever because he was absolutely shitfaced. We got in the van and Sam found an old tube of Lamisil and asked Alex to throw it out the window. He refused saying that heâs "Not touching your old tubes of feminine hygiene products." He replied, "God youâre such a fucking pussy!" None of this is a lie. Gainesville is always super fun and Sam tends to always go a little bit overboard whenever heâs there.
"Are we really playing in that bus?" - Quilty
"Yeah, weâre playing in the fucking bus you idiot." - Alex Jon Goldfarb
So after a long day of Sam being hung over and sleeping in the Lippincott shuttle bus we finally rolled into Asheville, NC. We were playing at a house where the ACTUAL FUCKING ADDRESS was 69 Gay Street. There were a couple of stationary hippie busses parked out front, and there might have been animals living there. It smelled like French fries and patchouli. Luckily, there was a warm house behind the busses, and a bunch of super nice people there hanging out for the show. After a rollicking show with locals Teenage Heart (in their last performance), we made a trek 45 minutes in the wrong direction to our friend Toby Brownâs house. On the way we hit the Waffle House and guess what? You can fucking smoke inside! After a bunch of greasy shitty (meaning awesome) food we got a good nightâs sleep in what was basically a mansion on 6 acres of property in the North Carolina mountains. Our friend Toby used to book punk shows. Now he married a doctor. He is stoked.