Hey lobsters, it’s Pistol.
I am SO SORRY that I haven’t blogged you in like, six months. Trust me, I did not abandon you intentionally. I’ve kinda been out of the country. It’s a long story that begins with me blogging about Lindsay Lohan being an awesome female lesbian role model, middles with a guy whose name rhymes with Bladimir Futin finding our blog by an errant Google search, and ends with me in a glass cage in Moscow wearing a pastel baklava. For the moment that is all I’m legally allowed to divulge. Trust me, the less you know, the less likely you are of being kidnapped and forced to eat perogies.
Me in Moscow.
It was so cold, I had to wear this to keep my face from freezing off.
In July, I was briefly released from my cage to perform at the Secret Gardening Society Festival in Cambridgeshire. I don’t understand how they manage to get any gardening done in all that mud. I’m not sure which was worse, losing my tent in a muddy marsh of drug-fuelled teenagers wearing nothing but glitterpaint, or being wrongfully imprisoned by Soviets. I think the fact that I willingly paid for my own flight back to Russia answers that question.
Some festival pics I took with my iPhucker:
The stage we performed on floating in some mud.
Us performing for the mudpeople.
This kid lost his horse in the mud at the festival. It sucked.
But at least the burrito van had delicious guac.
The good news is I am BACK in the UK. And you know what? Jack didn’t even NOTICE I was gone. I had a whole apology planned for my return, complete with a slowed down, heartfelt, acoustic version of “Call Me Maybe” that I was going to perform for him. I walked into the bedsit, expecting a tirade of tears and anger from my long-time creative partner who I presumed had been in deep mourning due to my absence. After I eventually got him to wake up, I was merely greeted with a “Where’d Santa go?” and a “Someone threw up in your sleeping bag. It wasn’t me.” Whew! He had been blacked out since Christmas and didn’t even realize I’d been away! It’s times like that you have to thank the Lord Gaga Above for inventing barbiturates and Southern Comfort.
So, “what is next for the band now that Pistol is back and Jack is lucid?”, I hear you cry. First of all, suck it up and stop crying. I’m back and you no longer have a reason to be sad. Secondly, to answer your query, we are exploring other forms of media beyond the live stage. This includes a reality show web series for your eyeholes and a podcast for your earholes. To experience our magic you will no longer have to be burdened with leaving your house and travelling to a venue that serves alcohol and is packed with human beings. Get your P&J fix on the solo, and share it with your virtual friends virtually. It is the future, after all. Or at least it will be once we can figure out how to press record.
I will blog you again soon to tell you more of my adventures and correct opinions.