I'm sleeping in a trailer behind the venue I played last night in Aldershot. I opened the show for the magnificent Glenn Tilbrook and then I finished some leftover curry and showered backstage in a cutesy tootsy English shower that took me a little while to figure out. Now I'm snug as a bug in a rug in sleeping bag and it's raining outside and the pitter patter of the drops is hypnotizing me to a truncated former version of myself. I'm getting sleepy and my eyelids are drooping like Pluto's in that Disney movie I once saw at the drive in.
Trailer living ain't bad. I should cook some food over a campfire. Not now though. Too much rain. I didn't know it rained in England. Why didn't anyone inform me of this? Shiza Minelli this is kinda fun. On yeah- they've also imposed a moratorium on shaving so I should be good and furry by the time I return to San Diego. More later. I have a meeting with the sandman. Not the scary one from that movie. The nice sandman and dreams and rapid eye movement. Easy bake ovens and lillies of the field. Sidney Pottier and Mr Tibbs and beads and Harry Nillson songs. Ahhh good night to you. It's 1:20. Cheerio, Steve