So it's been a week or so since I had any real access to speak of; I can check my email from my cell phone for free nights and weekends, but for news, i am sunk. It's either convince my bandmates to give me NPR (when we can tune it in) or the local papers.
Lousy to read about that helicopter attack yesterday. three more americans dead this afternoon. Bush fucking sucks.

I never finished my post from the 27th. After that good gig in Ft. Lauderdale, we headed back to the hotel, with Boogie and Jamie eying the hotel pool all the way, so the three of us stripped down to our boxers and hopped the fence for a 1:00 AM swim. I toweled off and left before those two, but after my shower realized I'd left something out at the van. As I walked across the parking lot, i noticed the pool had gone silent, and figured Boogie and Jamiue had either left or were hanging out talking. I grabbed my shit from the van, and headed back. This time the silence was a little suspicious. I felt like Robin: it's quiet batman.... too quiet. I passed by the pool and started up the stairs to our room, when i thought i saw what looked like a cop car. Casually, but quickly, I climbed the steps and crept along the balcony until i could see what was going on.

There they were: two cops, the night watchman, and James and Boogie standing there slupm-shouldered in their sopping bvoxers. James was bowing his head, while Boogie was frenetically trying to explain everything to two skeptical police. I wish i could have heard what he was saying, but his broad arm movements said it all. later, boog told me he tried to get the cops to see his human side: he was spouting about his tattoos, how he'd never left New York City, not even for new jersey. I figured they'd propbably be out of trouble soon, and went to hide my pot just in case the police paid a visit to our hotel room. After squirreling the stuff away, i went out again to check up on the defendants. theywere still getting dressed down, and I began to worry that they were going to be arrested. I knocked on izzy's hotel door. he was half-asleep and mumbled "Jus' don't let'em get zzzzzzzzzzz arrested zzzzzzzzz."

I went back-- ran actually-- to the room, threw on my glasses and my most mild-looking shirt (a striped polo with a worn out collar), and popped down the stairs. "Is there a problem officers," I asked. "These guys are in my hotel room."
"there he is! That's the guy we were telling you about," James and Boogies were falling over themselves.
"How come you didn't answer your door?" asked the lady cop, pointing up and to the right.
"Ummm... probably because our room is on THAT side of the building," I replied pointing in the opposite direction.
"We were on the wrong side? Oh maaaaannn," Musty groaned.