March 22

So here I am in Warsaw. 

Let me get my first complaint out of the way. Anyone who’s been to continental Europe knows the pain of the shelf toilet. An American, John Crapper, invented the pull flush toilet. Go America. Of course, this caught on everywhere, but with variation. Apparently, in Europe, the variation was to put a shelf in the toilet above the water, so that your crap could proudly be displayed for you. With no water surrounding it, you truly get to take in the ambiance of the smell, the texture… everything you shouldn’t have to experience when taking a crap in a well crafted toilet. For what reasons the Europeans would want this, I cannot fathom. Perhaps they like to be able to smell and fully view their crap so they can gauge their health? It is a mystery… a stinky, horrid mystery. 

Our flight over was without incident. Lots of planning and organization on our part, perhaps a first for Impaled, has paid off. Well, except for the quaint lunch we enjoyed at Heathrow Airport in London that ended up costing us seventy-two American dollars for four people. Keep in mind, Sean and Raul ordered sides of “chips” and you might understand how ridiculous the price was. Lesson learned… my veggie burger was good, but not twenty dollars good. Oh well… I’ll enjoy a twenty dollar shit. And thanks to European ingenuity, I’ll be able to smell it, too!

We ended up taking the same flight from London to Warsaw with Deeds of Flesh. The main difference was, our luggage arrived and theirs did not. It’s the ultimate band nightmare; not knowing where your guitar is. They found out theirs were in London still, inexplicably unloaded onto the airplane. Hopefully, it will arrive tomorrow for them, because they will not be happy having to play our equipment. Our equipment is shit. 

Our tour manager, Browar, picked us up and seems nice, and his name is cool as all hell. It’s like a bunch of drunk dudes battling it out over who’s better, Exodus or Forbidden. A Bro War! Tally ho. Of course, the first music played for us once we enter Poland? Vader. Damn, they love that band here. 

For all you world travelers, I’ll lay out a second recommendation; lose the Verizon phone. Apparently, my cell is completely useless throughout Europe. T-Mobile not only goes throughout Europe, but they have wi-fi stations in lots of places that you can use and have the time charged directly to your account. Now, I’ve always had a problem with T-Mobile, because they have Catherine Zeta-Jones as their spokeswoman, and she fucks the pasty potato sack known as Michael Douglas. Is this superficial? Probably… but I will be switching to T-Mobile as soon as I get home. 

Warsaw is a very dull, very gray place. Seriously gray. Everything is caked with a mysterious soot. The snow here is gray, the cars are gray… everything. The buildings are low, largely depressing, and caked with soot. I like it. Reminds me of the good ol’ days of the cold war, when I was scared of nuclear annihilation instead of being dragged off and tortured by my own government. Now those are nice memories. 

We’ve been put up in a hotel for the evening. This is very interesting, as they say we have two beds per room. The beds, however, consist of one 12-13′ long stone hard mattress and a pair of duvets. Tonight, me and Raul will be playing footsie. Oh, and there’s no television. I didn’t realize how much I like television until now. It makes me feel like I’m not cooped up in a small room, which I am. Instead, I have my laptop (thank God) and a Euro-power adapter. Oh, we also have beer. Beer is good. Beer makes me forget. Thank you, beer. I asked at the store for good, authentic Polish beer. Tastes like Budweiser. Oh well. 

We ate at the “restaurancj” or whatever they call it, and got very light, very unsatisfying meals of what I’m guessing was frozen food microwaved or boiled. At least we got that. And you have to love this funny monopoly money. They don’t use Euros in Poland, apparently, so I feel all rich having turned 100 American dollars into 280 Polish dollars. Dinner’s on me!!!! I’m fucking Bill Gates! George Soros! Look at me! Cuban cigars for everyone! 

On the way in, I had a glancing thought about Polish women. See, two times, we have toured with Polish bands, Vader and Decapitated. Both times, the large Polish communities in Chicago and New York came out to support their brethren. What this meant was, loads of really tall, svelte, beautiful Polish women. Guess what? They look like that in Poland, too. Holy crap, there’s some amazingly beautiful women here. But here’s the catch; the shelf life. See, there’s all these beautiful women in their twenties, but then it seems that Polish women go into some hut for about thirty years, and they come out looking like sacks of potatoes. They’re hunched, wrinkled, and worn out. There is no in-between. You either get young, beautiful Polish women or old hags. Their shelf life is bad. That’s the best way I can describe it. 

Jeez, I just can’t believe this hotel with crazy elevators that don’t stop on the right floor doesn’t have wifi. I’ll have to save this for later.

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