Guelph is a state of mind

fisheye.jpgTonight I'm playing in a city called Guelph. I wonder who came up with the name Guelph and what the inhabitants are like? It's known as "The Royal City" and its residents are called Guelphites. It's 100 kilometers west of Toronto at the intersection of Highway 6 and Highway 7. But never mind the facts- here's what I think straight from my jejune grey matter. I think Guelph is a half panicked state of mind not unlike that of the feeling of just waking up after a restless night's sleep. Someone last night night told me that to them Guelph sounded like the noise a cat makes when choking on a hair ball. At first that made sense to me but then I got here. Upon arriving I realized that everyone in Guelph has the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. That's why their athletic teams at the University of Guelph are known as The Gryphons. Personally, I would have spelled it Griffins but I'm less inclined to be traditional than most. The funny thing is, everyone here runs their cars on urine. I mean, talk about recycling and making the most of your waste products. They used to have an abattoir in the center of town but the stench was debilitating and the forefathers and foremothers burned the building down one fateful night in the early 1900's. Needless to say, there is still an almost funereal gloom that's palpable when strolling down Main Street. I went into a washroom to relieve myself and at least 3 different people handed me jars for my pee. I couldn't even find a regular gas station for my rental car with its alien Georgia license plates. As the sepulchral darkness of the night begins creeping in, I'm going to get off the streets and hide in my car. I've become nothing more than a refugee on the lam from the future cops looking to propel their flying cars with more of my pale yellowish fluid I have stored in my bladder. Good God, I'm frightened but I will not- I repeat- I will not cancel my show tonight because of the jar carrying droogs that seem to accost me at every wrong turn I happen to make. My catheter holding enemies are nothing more than street urchins looking for any opportunity make me micturate on demand so that they may time travel to other planets and get the hell out of Guelph. I will not give in to their urinary collecting neediness. I am not just some unworthy interloper from the nether regions. I am not an animal. I am a man who gets to keep his own pee for himself for his own use. Send in life flight. Steverino

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