Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Paris Pix...

(Captions to follow...)



































Il est fini (et nous avons régné)...

(Amended May 22, 2008.)

Instants Chavirés gave us one helluva send-off. The terrific Italian trio Allun set the tone with a formidable display of bubbling id and paint-slathered paranoia. Splendid... As for EuroShave, Jurgen rejoined us (Dennis drove the revitalized Kangoo), and the few small wounds we'd previously inflicted on the other seemed, in immediate retrospect, quite fucking trivial. All poisons extracted... Began with "War" and slowly set the room ablaze. Balazs, Gaybomb, and Sickboy strafed the refinery while I dropped the Betty Hutton leaflets. What a fucking blast...

Hate that it's over, but we'll be back soon enough. Meanwhile, Andrew, Suzanne and the great Andy Bolus discuss Atavan... Balazs returns to Budapest tomorrow, Dennis and Sickboy drive back to Kortryk and Antwerpen, and Gaybomb and I will soon grab a taxi back to the Airport Hilton (palatial lobby, not terribly special rooms) and count sheep. Seven hours from now, I decamp at Gard De Nord until the noon train to Luneburg skids eastward. Mr. Barranca flies at 11 back to the States...

Quite sad, actually. Can't we quickly organize another 56 shows?

More soon about Christel, Hamburg, Claud the Cool Palm, Rote Flora, the 19-hour Hell ride (courtesy of the Belgian train workers' action - more power to them, but my arse is still aching...), etc.

Thanks to everyone, everywhere we performed, for everything (even the handful of stupid, mega-annoying, wildly unethical fuckers we encountered; we learned what not to do, who not to trust, from their calumny)...

Drunk and happy in the Instants Chavirés office,

With Love,

Tom/TLASILA