Ralf slumbers.

Valencia, Spain is the mullet capital of the world. Unfortunately, it is not just rejects and leftover social trash that carry these bodacious bi-levels but everybody! The mullet is high fashion! As are neon belts and fishnets and white high heels. These people are nuts! And terribly dressed! And that’s coming from me and I haven’t changed my clothes in 8 days!!

Max, just a-trying to fit in any way he knows how.
Dude, mullets!

Went to a Spanish beach. Boobies. Boobies boobies boobies. Bare boobies. I tried to read but it was too distracting. Boobies.

It’s not the sunburn that hurts, per se, but rather the sand that was still stuck to me as I put my shoes back on. Each grain of sand was like a thumbtack being ground into my pink and tender skin – like being on fire and having someone throwing darts at you.

La Roca, Spain. Photos by Eric.

Robert slept in the van and in the middle of the night he tried to pee into an empty water bottle. The bottle he grabbed first was not empty so he put it outside the passenger door so as not to make the same mistake later. He made a mental note to grab the bottle before we left in the morning. While Robert and Paco were moving the van the next morning the bottle was forgotten and subsequently ran over, sending cascades of urine over Paco’s arm as well as a couple walking by. Paco looked at his dripping arm and told Robert he must have ran over an iced tea bottle. Robert agreed and bit his lip. Unbeknownst to Paco or the strolling couple the Piss Bomb was born.

Madrid, Spain – Devon sleeps on a mattress next to Steffen. At some point in the night Steffen starts sleep-punching Devon with fists so Devon scoots down the mattress. This put Devon out of Steffen’s punching range but into Martin’s kicking range. Mildly battered, Devon then moves to the kitchen where he routinely brushes himself of cockroaches until sun-up, when the dueling Fiats find us once more.

Loule, Portugal – in all the times I have been urged to ‘get out of dodge’ after we played I think this is the first time it has happened to WHN? NF dudes are lame, no matter what country they’re from. Our Lisbon liaisons who drove down for the show put us up in a flat about 20 meters from the beach. All of them were goofy and fun folk but I was the only one to strip naked and run around the beach – receiving the name "sea monster" as a result. Later I shared a bed with Steffen and in less than 5 minutes he strong-armed me out of it and onto the floor.

Lisbon Mosh Crew in action:

Lisbon Mosh Crew on break:

Somewhere between Portugal and the Basque Country I realized that if I rotate my upper body to the left I can bypass the incredible pain in my ribs and actually take a deep breath. I wish I would have figured that out a week ago.

Mad Max

The Spanish spoken in Gijon, Spain is softer and lispier than average Spanish and, as such, very sexy to me.

Throughout the day and throughout the city our van received 3 separate parking tickets. After our show we came out to find our van getting towed from the club’s parking lot (where we were told by the club to park). We got it all sorted out (after paying some sketchy fines) and 9 cop cars surrounded us to make sure we loaded out and left properly.

Martin lets the cops know what's up.

Aside from the cops Gijon was a very beautiful city. Our hosts, Chato, Paula and Laura, took me for a 4am walk around the city. In keeping with the European theme of working in the social services, Chato works with people with disabilities. He even has a band with two of his clients where he plays keyboards while the other two play what sounds like a cross between free jazz and punk rock. "Maybe ‘noise’ would be a good term to describe it," he said after giving it more thought.

Yeah, I understand 'noise.'

Above and below are by Nacho from Gijon.

The gang in Gijon - MY OWN LIES, END IT NOW, us, and the cops just a few feet away (see car on the right).

Steffen was given his own mattress and his own side of the room to sleep on. Max volunteered to sleep on the other side of the room and left a 5-foot chasm between his bunk and Steffen’s. Once Steffen passed out we all sat and watched as in the span of 10 minutes Steffen rolled off his bed, slithered across the floor, and flopped himself up against Max’s mattress – earning him the new title of Heat Seeking Sleep Missile. I slept in Laura’s bed (while she slept in Paula’s) and just as I was closing my eyes I spotted on her nightstand a box of 9mm bullets where normally an alarm clock or box of kleen-ex would rest.