Impaled Esprit de Corpse 1

It seems like I never left. I guess that’s the fun of playing in multiple bands… once in awhile, when one tour ends, I can say to a bunch of lfriends in a foreign land, “bis bald (see you soon auf Deutsch)” and actually mean it. After leaving Europa with Ludicra a scant month and a half ago, I have returned with Impaled. Hell, I haven’t seen some of my friends in Oakland as much recently as some of my friends over here.

We have already started this tour six feet deep in the hole. We’ve nothing new to promote, but the invite to finally play Obscene Extreme in Czech Republic was too enticing to resist.

Never mind that we are flying during summer travel months and the price of oil is skyrocketing faster than Libyan anti-aircraft missiles towards a NATO bomber. We went ahead and took the ass raping sans lubicrant from the airline. Delta, I have doubts about their love of flying when they nickel and dime you to death.

From the safety video I took a picture of when my iPhone clearly should have been off, endangering the flight:

Big Sister Stewardess will eat you alive with her giant, collagen lips. That still didn’t stop me from being a dick and opting out of the full body scan at the airport. Sure, some big dude cupped my balls and was obviously upset at having to do so, but I think it’s worth it to upset a dude and make him cup my balls.

After a relatively uneventful flight, we arrived in Prague and picked up our luggage. The rest of Impaled started lining up behind some people waiting to have their luggage checked by customs, while I made a beeline for the door that said, “Nothing to Declare.” They quickly followed. I love continental Europe, where you’re not treated like a criminal just because you want to visit the country. I’m sure coming back, some disgruntled, mustachioed fella representing “Homeland Security” will be sure to grill me about the possibility of having some wacky tobaccy hidden up my keister. As if I couldn’t just get it in Oaksterdam.

Outside the airport in Prague came a familiar site; the red Iveco tour van that has been my home so many times before on this side of the Atlantic.

Our driver and friend, Conny, was replaced temporarily by our other friends from Dresden, Tony and Chris. We were to be on our way to Dresden after a stop at Nomads of Prague to pick up a some amps. Again. Seems like I just saw Tschepitz and his sunshiney face.

After that, we met up at a Beer “Garden” that consisted of some umbrellas over tables in the back alley of an apartment building. Curby, our benevolent benefactor for setting up this tour and the man behind Obscene Extreme, came with our merchandise and to watch us eat and drink a bit.

We headed to Dresden and finally met up with Conny for a peek at the art space she’d been working on and a BBQ with a bunch of good friends from Dresden. Super cool. We took it “easy” in that we only drank until 1 or 2 am, and not until the sun rose. Hey, our first show at Death Feast was tomorrow.

The next day we headed west and made our way to Death Feast. In the town of Hünxe, population nada, we drove around for about half an hour until we saw one tiny piece of paper taped to a pole with an arrow on it that said “death feast.”

Several hundred people were in attendance at this open-air festival. That meant several hundred pairs of cut-off camo shorts were in attendance as well. The Germans have a propensity for dressing uniformly. Go figure. We didn’t have much time to start enjoying the fest as we had to get cracking organizing our garbage to sell and tuning up guitars.

It seemed like we had just arrived and we were already on stage. Nothing says death metal like surgical scrubs bereft of blood because there was no time to get any. We turned out an energetic performance, but nothing I’d call tight. Despite all the intricate melodies and harmonies, we are still basically a bunch of three-chord punks. Leon del Muerte was here with Exhumed and managed to grace our stage with his farty presence. I managed to practice up a bit of my German and squeaked out, “Eure Väter schupsen Kinder vom Fahrrad und riechen den Amsaddle.” Your fathers push kids off their bikes and sniff the seat. I’m told this is a grave insult here, though I might have been lied to.

After us was Exhumed who I joined on stage at Matt’s request to sing one song. It was the first time I’ve sung an Exhumed song in twelve years, and about as long since I’d listened to “Gore Metal” in order to re-learn the words. A good time was had by all, though I’m sure a bunch of Exhumed fans were wondering why I didn’t puke. Sorry, yeah, I’m the guy before that guy and I’m the one you never saw play live outside the Bay Area. I’m also a full head taller and I’m terribly handsome.

The rest of the festival was fun, and we were all excited to get to see Dismember for the first time. They turned it out quite well and we were satisfied. Unfortunately, all nights must end, and we had a 2 day drive to get to our next show in Italy.

Doktor Ross Sewage
The G.O.R.E. Corps Minister of Filth
reporting from field of battle: Europa

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