WH Monks from Gay Paris reports from the 4 drink minimum tour
Thu 12 May The Patch, Wollongong NSW
When we set out to Wollongong on Thursday night, I was filled with a vague fear, a tugging at the hairs on my shoulders, a tightening of the scrotum – what fresh hell would we find as we prepared for yet another jaunt through Southern Horror.
Just a fortnight past in this very place, I had clambered from a spa bath, dressed to the nines and dripping, brain spinnering through all manner of low grade 70s snuff film scenarios – that was the last thing I knew before I came to in Sydney, tattooed hands a permanent reminder that if you party with lizard people, you’re going to get some scars.
Right, the lizard people. Compared to the sad, befuddled and to be completely honest, boring pure blooded humans that were at the ‘club’ we dined at before the gig, these scaly bastards are downright loveable, if a little ‘hands on’. Of course, even though my brain was a touch scarred and the bladder squeezing terror had me worried about moving with my traditional loose limbed truculence, we were determined to provide a good example for these awful hybrid monsters – in this case, being the 4 Drink Minimum tour, a good example was a bad example. I must be honest now – we were in exemplary form, with even our pet loud American/manager, here only to be named as ‘BZ’ getting in on the debauch; if you’ve never had a conversation with a woman in her late twenties while she pisses in a gutter, I would suggest that you give it a try, you may even get aroused.
Fri 13 May Crown & Anchor, Adelaide SA
Hard nights always give way to terrible mornings and true to experience, Friday morning was a complete bastard. Luckily, these days, you can get booze on most any skyship and soon enough, we were wheeling down into the City Of Churches, observing that a 4 drink minimum is a fine thing, especially when you can kick back and watch cartoons with extremely sexist undertones for a couple of hours.
Having gathered our gear and bolstered our spirits, Blacktooth accidentally revealed a secret to Slim that we have been keeping for years – water is good for humans. Now the shit head is obsessed with being hydrated. He still refuses to pay for water, but is quite happy to beg and steal. I guess considering the fact that he is an accessory (or as he calls it ‘successory’) kleptomaniac, it’s no surprise that he took to stealing our Mount Franklin bottles with a gusto nothing short of astounding.
Theft within this organization is nothing new, with Blacktooth constantly telling us that he doesn’t smoke, he is simply helping his addicted friends by smoking their cigarettes. He likewise has an ‘I don’t eat chips, can I have some of yours’ attitude that drives me asylum rolling crazy at every meal. Buy your own, you bastard.
Afternoon turned to an evening rife with friends, old and new, all willing to submit to our ‘4 Drinks’ mantra – none more so than my new favourite band, God God Dammit Dammit, with eleven members and three free drinks each on the rider, you gotta start to wonder how venues can afford to book them (oh, right, most bands get paid shit all).
Sat 14 May Old Bar, Melbourne VIC
Up again at five am, we flew the coup, bidding a silent farewell to our hosts and their white cat, Graham, a magnificent specimen of feline (trust me, as a close friend of Bastet, I’m qualified to make this call).
Now, I know that people say ‘the grass is always greener . . .’ and then I vomit in rage ( I’m allergic to the mundane, including clichés ). Really though, Melbourne is a magical place and I hope that everyone who lives there appreciates this, from the hot sluts in their awesomely tight jeans and perilously high stilettos to the arrogant jerks in DIY grind bands that record straight to cassette tapes and have bad tattoos that they wear short shorts all winter long to show off.
‘It’s like there are magical deer fucking on the lawn,’ said Slim, later amending that to politely fucking.
Now, you probably understand that I have a way with words that verges on sorcery, but with Slim spouting this kind of poetry, his new brother in rhythm, Six Guns must have felt something stir within him, dropping many quotable punch lines at all the most arch moments. Included here is a small sample:
“I’m playing for coke.”
“After rehearsal, I piss on my hands. In the shower.”
“You can’t sleep while I play two drum kits at once.”
Blacktooth, normally the strong and silent type had this to contribute: “I’ll take three because normal drugs don’t really do anything to me.”
Having spent the afternoon and much of the evening shopping, drinking and catching up with our Melbourne chums (who, it must be said are a good deal more attractive than our Sydney compatriots) and arguing about late 90s NBA facts, it was time to enforce the minimum again. Once again, God God Dammit Dammit were way ahead of us, bringing a new meaning to the term ‘party your dick off’, which has now led us to believe that we need to team up with them and our heaviest homeboys, Totally Unicorn for the Totally Gay Dammit tour (check back with us in maybe November).
With the seeds of this unholy union being planted and Melbourne proving once again that it has much better dancers than Sydney (big ups to the young woman who threw me to the floor and gyrated on my chest until I had carpet burn all over my back), the conversations took on a more philosophical bent as Six Guns explained to us the best ways of getting a hive of bees stoned and we tried and failed to find a kitten sized Charles Barkley jersey.
The last thing I remember hearing before passing out was Blacktooth telling BZ “I know you hate it, but it’s happening.” Somehow, I think that the aforementioned kitten was involved.
Sun 15 May Cherry Bar Melbourne, VIC
Depression kicked me in the teeth when I woke, dammit, back to Sydney tomorrow. But that was for Future WH to deal with. Memories of Slim attempting to lift Blacktooth on his shoulders while playing bass restored my good mood, not to mention the fact that for the first time in months, thanks to Blacktooth ‘The Pharmacist’ Marks’s drug collection, I had actually had a human amount of sleep.
With the day spent eating, gently abusing each other and arguing about whether or not we should record a hip-hop album (Gay Parties?), night fell suddenly, finding us in ACDC lane, wondering if 24 Moons was a hand job joint and if so, whether or not we had enough money to keep everybody happy.Somehow, instead of exploring this line of action, we broke off into a hip-hop cypher before God God Dammit Dammit showed up, packing a case of beer and ‘van goon’. Bless their dark little hearts.
When the Jager flows generously, one can’t help but throw a pants off party and with us opening the show, it gave way to the GGDD boys standing in the front row, groping, slapping and kissing whatever body parts they could get their multitude of hands on – it was like something out of Lovecraft, but infinitely sexier.
Sadly, the night ended with members of GGDD being ejected from the venue for being too awesome and we ended up at Hungry Jacks, watching some junkie trying to buy paper cups from a very confused night manager.
Now, I’m back in Sydney, wondering if the local fans will forgive me for all the terrible things I’ve said about them.
See you at the Vanguard and prove me wrong, children!
Catch Gay Paris on one of their remaining shows on the 4 Drink Minimum tour
Thu 19 May Phoenix, Canberra NSW
Fri 20 May The Greath Northern, Newcastle, NSW
Sat 21 May The Vanguard, Sydney NSW
Fri 27 May The Loft Gold Coast, QLD
Sat 28 May Ric’s Bar, Brisbane, QLD