The bus is parked outside a Best Western in Oregon; we’ll be here for eight hours while the driver sleeps. We’re across the interstate from the Seven Feathers casino, which I’m sure I’ll venture into in search of a buffet.
Ed from BNL came onstage to do “Unsingable” with us last night. Stately!
I’ve downloaded the six new Jay-Z tracks out of fourteen I dug the snippets of on iTunes and am enjoying them in a chilly hotel room. Best rapper alive? Only rapper alive.
“What is a cult? It just means not enough people to make a minority.”
Yes, sponsored by the insurance company. We felt very safe. Pete walked onstage without sticks and had to walk back off and go find some. FUNNY. I am happy to say that we all stood there in front of thousands laughing about it, not freaking out. That is the awesomeness of this rock and roll operation.
Pix by Fuzzy Gerdes
As is pretty common on these big tours, the buses here in Omaha are parked in a gigantic room adjacent to the arena. Sometimes–driving overnight, after the shows, as you do–you wake up in the morning, and step out of your bunk into these surreal grey spaces.
(More accurately: Wir haben den Spa
Pic–handed to me onstage by an unnamed fan at Loyola in New Orleans–backwards in the bus’ kitchenette mirror.
The venue was a giant Hard Rock shaped like a colosseum. It was located in a part of Universal Studios that was like a festive Times Square straddling an artificial lagoon.
I saw a fat guy wearing an I AM THE AMERICAN DREAM t-shirt.