The Stranded and The Strange

My Wife and I were on our way home Sunday evening, and 2 hours from home (just short of the State Line) started acting up.

We stopped briefly to let the Dog make a shirt in the dirt, and when we got back in the car wouldn’t turn over though it was trying. So we luckily added Road Side Assistance to my Auto Insurance Policy so I didn’t feel real shitty about the car being problematic. We called the Insurance Company only to find out that they can’t tow the car until tomorrow, AND they had a asinine NO DOGS in Truck Rule. What that meant was I could get my car home yet my Wife and I were still stuck looking for a way home.

There is always one person you can rely on and thats your Mother. Unless Your Me. I couldn’t reach my Mother by phone or text, so I decided to continue texting. She finally responded by informing me she couldn’t talk (though she was made well aware that this was an emergency situation) but hey good luck and keep your chin up. Apparently what I have learned along the way this time is my ENTIRE FUCKING FAMILY HAS NO IDEA WHAT THE DEFINITION OF AN EMERGENCY IS. They seem to think an Emergency is the exact same as a Favor. At that point I stopped trying to communicate with her.

Being that we live in a rather Rural area there are NO BUSES, TRAINS, SUB WAYS or TAXI/CAR SERVICES. All I could think of was to try Uber in spite of my opinion of Uber which was and is its a good idea on Paper, BUT with the World’s shittiest Real Life Application. Since like I said we live out in the fucking Woods there was only ONE SINGLE UBER DRIVER in the ENTIRE COUNTY. We scheduled the Uber but when she showed up she immediately informed us she WOULD NOT take us to our actual destination because it was to far for her. I already being an Uber Hater felt even more justified in my disgust of all things Uber.

Since as I said having limited choices of just one We took the Uber Driver up on her offer to give us a lift about an hour down the road which was better than nothing which we had in spades. The ride ended when We ended up AT South of the Boarder the Timelessly Racist Truck Stop meets a Motel, Mall, and Attractions (i.e. Live Reptiles and the Famous Sombrero Tower). The Uber Driver was absolutely awe struck by all the Tacky Tourist Neon Lighting that lit up South of The Boarder like a Poor White Trash version of Vegas.

Again I started an attempt once again to try and get a ride from my Mother who continued to ask if we had though of, and then went on to describe every fucking scenario to see if we actually had. Desperately I tried not to curse Her out for her interpretation of what an Emergency is. All I’m saying is if you fucking fall off a fucking ladder, and call 911 your not asking them for a favor.

My Mother is fixated then on utterly pointless points saying We should get a Hotel room, and I told her that the RIDE emergency would be the SAME the next morning as WE WOULD STILL BE STRANDED. There wouldn’t be any New Options springing up over fucking night or anything.

The Uber Driver started to feel a bit guilty, but I think she actually felt shitty about dropping us off still up the Shit’s Creek without a Paddle. Well whatever her reasoning was she offered to drive us another 46 miles down the road to the next town putting us about 100 miles or so from Our Home Office. We obviously agree and thank her because the cliche was ringing true in “Something is better than nothing”.

The Driver called to Uber Office because it wouldn’t allow her to sign on and accept the ride. She proceeded to launch into a interesting debate with the Uber Office Rep that lasted the better part of an hour. She was one of those cell phone types that likes to talk on her phone while its on speaker so I was privy to BOTH sides of the Argument as it were.

Long story short Our Driver had crossed a State Line which made Her exempt from accepting Uber Calls, and there was absolutely NO WAY around it. This was kind of fucked as our Driver pointed out the original call Uber sent her way was over a state line so why would they NOW make an issue of it (Point being bottom line some Asshole at Uber has no fucking clue about Geography local or otherwise, and is apparently too stupid to utilize a GPS or an Old School Paper Map)

When it was all said and done We settled on the Ride down the Road for $20 cash and called it a night. FUCK UBER (Not the Drivers mind you). As We got in the car I shot my Mother a text letting her know the current state of affairs, and she texted me back to give her a call when we arrived at our next destination. Our next destination was the Red Roofie Inn we had our Uber Driver drop us at, thanked her for her help, and she drove off into the night.

Luckily for us We had called ahead just in case to make sure the Red Roofie Inn took Dogs and had a Vacancy  which they did. Before totally giving up we hit up Uber one more time, and we were in luck there were 3 Uber Drivers  in this County so that was a definite plus. We caught another break when one of said in area Uber came by to discuss if we could broker a ride (Apparently Drivers can say no to Dogs which is their right its I just don’t know why Uber doesn’t tell them up front.)

BOTTOMLINE: Uber is Unreliable because No Ride is Guaranteed due to World Class Shitty Communication between Uber and its Drivers.

This Uber Driver’s usual Van was in the Shop so she had a hell of a Loaner, I’m not a car guy by any means so I don’t remember the name, but this car had ALL these Dope  bells and whistles. This time we got a Driver who was born for Uber like she walked right out of a Uber Ad itself. To say she was an enthusiastic driver would be a horrendous understatement. So off we sped into the night breathing a massive sigh of relief. Then I got a Text.

You see my Mother had requested that I text her when I arrived at our latest destination, but I forgot because at that point what was the point really. The text was asking where we were, and I texted back we had caught an another Uber and were in route to our Home Office. She then announces that she is on her way having taken 3 and a half hours of aggravation to suit up in her armor, mount her white Horse and fucking help us.

I showed the Text to my Wife because at this point I just didn’t give a fuck about anything other than we were finally on our way back to our Home Offices. My Wife texted with my Mother and arranged for us to meet up with her at a designated exit at a Gas Station. We arrived and thanked our awesome Uber Driver and loaded up into my Mother’s Car.

I don’t remember the ride as I tuned my Mother out being that I was still confused, frustrated, and angry that this whole shit show came full circle after HOURS of unnecessary stress. We finally arrived at our Home Offices at 1:37 am instead of our original ETA of 9:00 pm.

Alls Well that Ends Well I suppose.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober  

Idiot Ian the Tow Truck Schmuck

My car took a shit on me 2 hours (and just short of the State Line) from My Home Office. At first it was no Big Deal as I just called up My Auto Insurance Company’s Road Side Assistance for a helping hand. They sent a Tow Truck Driver over who jumped the car which came alive in an instant, and my Wife and I went on our way.

One exist down the road the Car absolutely shit the bed. Lights didn’t work neither did the gauges as it was apparent that the Alternator had up and Died. We pulled over on an industrial side road, and set up a Tow for the next morning as it was 8:30 pm on a Sunday in The Southern Country.

The following Morning We had decided to have the Car towed to a near by shop where it broke down since towing it to our usual mechanic shop would cost around $300. My Wife called up the Auto Insurance Company, and gave them the new tow info. They said that they would dispatch a Driver, and that if he had any questions that he would contact us. And boy did he.

The Tow Truck Driver was named Ian, and over the course of 4 or 5 phone calls Ian couldn’t follow a single direction my Wife gave him. Now for those wondering I have no idea why he wasn’t using GPS. He finally admitted once again that he was STILL on the WRONG Road, and that he’d call back if he couldn’t get himself turned around. We finally got a text confirmation from Ian that he had dropped the Car off at the specified Mechanic Shop.

After a while We got curious as to why we hadn’t heard from the Mechanic yet so being pro active We called Him. What he said blew my fucking mind. The Car in spite of Ian’s fucking text WASN’T THERE. Affectively my Car was now lost in some shit town 2 hours away across state lines.

We immediately called our Insurance company who called the Tow company (as the said Tow company like all others was contracted with my Insurance company) to find out what the hell happened.

What had happened was this. The Mechanic we were using had 5 separate locations in the area all called Timber Auto, AND the one We had our Car Towed to (WHICH was a recommendation from our Insurance Company) had been sold. The new owners were called Martinez Mechanic Shop.

NOW Ian the Asshole Tow Truck Driver could have called his Dispatcher, The Insurance Company OR Us to inquire what was going on because obviously theres something wrong. Ian in his infinite idiocy CALLED NO ONE and just dumped my Car there no if ands or buts.

The Insurance Company arranged for Asinine Ian to go fix his fuck up by retrieving my Car from where he left it and tow it to the actual Mechanic we were using. AGAIN after a couple of hours We again hadn’t heard shit from the Mechanic so I called him once again.

The Mechanic said he hadn’t had any Tow Truck Driver’s check in with him, but he would go eye ball his lot just to make sure since things were already going shitty. He got back on the phone and informed me my car WAS THERE, BUT Ian hadn’t checked in with the Mechanic opting again to just dump my car and fucking leave.

This pissed me off because until I heard from the Mechanic that the car was there (obviously I didn’t give a flying fuck about the cocksucking Tow Company who employed Ian the Jackass) it was still Missing. The Mechanic coped a attitude because Ian didn’t check in raised a HUGE concern for the Mechanic as far as Liability and the Law is concerned.

I took a minute to remind the Mechanic that I DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IAN THE HUMAN ACCIDENT and as the owner of the Car in question I’m the most pissed of fucking all. We had been working on this Tow starting at 7:40 am and it was 1:15 pm before my Car made it to the correct Mechanic due to the Stupidity of the Tow Truck Schmuck Ian the Inane.

Still craving the idea of caving Ian’s idiotic shit filled skull in with a Ball Peen Hammer, I decided to lodge a complaint with my Insurance company since this shit was completely FUCKING UNACCEPTABLE.

I talked to a very polite and apologetic young man who helped me file my complaint, and then he went above and beyond. He was so absolutely taken aback by what he had heard that he was calling the Tow Company Directly to inquire to as what the fuck was going on with their dips hit driver. I sat on hold while he called, and the Tow Company tried to pin the whole shit show on the address bullshit to which I pointed out that Ian should have called someone over the confusion instead of just dropping my car and fucking off like a Dick.

In the end everything worked out, but what a Shitnado to have to deal with especially after the Double Emergencies of the Day before, and those are to stories for another time and another post so…

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Chaos & The 2 Year Career: Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All Part 2

NOTE: Alright Reader from now on I will be using a Time Line to keep this post entertaining and no longer than it needs to be.

Feb. 5th, 1988  “Mad as Hell” Tour ends, and Gar Fisch announces he is leaving the band due to the physical toll that the Stank Breath Years had taken on his body and health. For Example due to Gar’s firecracker anal oriented antics had left Gar with a permanently prolapsed asshole.

Feb. 7th, 1988 Von Dire calls an emergency band meeting, and after several rounds of Tequila Shots and Nitrous Whip Its decided to hire a manager. They settled on Marty Trundle who immediately terminated their contract with RatFuck Records and got them signed to WhoreMonger Records a major International label.

Feb. 9th, 1988 WhoreMonger books Malice on a 6 month Festival Tour across North America and Europe. Malice celebrates with a 72 hour drug binge ending in the band being arrested for Public Intoxication, Public Nudity, and Defecting in Public.

Feb. 13th, 1988 Trundle introduced Dire, Vile, and Rage to Ex-Sleaze guitarist Eddie Sleaze as a possible replacement for Gar Fisch. The band and Sleaze bond over countless beers and lines of Cocaine. Somewhere along the way Sleaze was officially hired as Malice’s replacement guitarist.

Feb. 15th, 1988 Malice hit the road for the start of the “WhoreMonger’s Whores” Tour with their first show in Peoria Illinois at The Mental Metal Festival. The show ended early because the Fire Marshall showed up and informed the Festival Promoter the amount of Pyrotechnics Malice planned to use were considered “A Hazardous Explosive Threat”. The Promotoer facing a massive fine as well as having his entire Festival shut down radioed the Stage Manager and told him to halt any future Pyrotechnics Malice was planning to use. When the Pyrotechnics didn’t go off during the drum solo Von Dire was infuriated beyond belief.

The rest of the band seeing something serious was going down stopped playing mid song. The confused Crowd was left standing in a muddy field wondering why the show they paid for suddenly stopped during the Headliner’s set. Von Dire grabbed the Promoter by the front of his shirt and dragged him on stage to confront him. Vile, Rage, and Sleazy abandoned their instruments as they walked over to see what the fuck the deal was. A now enraged Von Dire is screaming at the top of his lungs about how no bullshit is going to fuck up his show, Malice wanted to be financially compensated for the pyrotechnics not being used, and that the Promoter he was a sniveling, slippery little shit.

Sleaze decided he felt the same as Von Dire about the situation, and did nothing but piss gas on the fire by agitating Von Dire further and further. Rage left the stage pissed off, and not wanting to deal with this shit show so he was going to get shitfaced. Vile managed to get between Von Dire and the Promoter and was struggling to keep the two men apart as now the Promoter was angry as hell about being physically and verbally assaulted by Von Dire. With things utterly out of control Vile punched Von Dire in the balls and handed him off to a Roadie. Before Vile could explain himself  (hitting Von Dire in the balls was the only way for anyone to shut him down) was hit over the head with an empty beer bottled wielded by Sleaze.

The Stage crew, Festival Security, and the arrival of the Police combined managed to get things under control, but the Festival would be rescheduled for a later date due to the uproar that tonights show. Von Dire and Sleaze went to jail for Assault and Terroristic Threats, Vile went to the Emergency Room and received 19 stitches, and Rage ended up in the ER as well for Alcohol Poisoning later that night.

Feb. 18th, 1988 Malice plays the Wisconsin “Heavy Metal Massacre” Festival. The show goes well and without incident, but after the show things got pretty fucking crazy. After their set Malice retired to their dressing room for a pre celebration party celebration. They did so much Blow that they effectively snorted themselves into cocaine psychosis, ended up at the air for, barged through a line of people waiting to board their plane, and ended up on a flight to Albany NY. Luckily Trundle made it to the air port before the plane took off, but had to have the pilot to agree to taxi around the runway. This way Trundle argued he could convince the band they in fact had completed their impromptu plane ride.

Feb. 20th, 1988 Malice shows up a day early for Salt Lake City’s “SLC Metal Mayhem” Festival in Utah. Vile went to the Bauhaus Brewery (No relation to the post-punk band Bauhaus) and managed to get kicked out for being too drunk for the brewery tour. Trundle came and picked up the heavily intoxicated Vile and drove him to the Hotel Harrison to sleep it off.

Trundle then received a call that Rage was at The Pink Pussy also drunk off his ass and had jumped up on stage to preform his own strip tease. Though the Police had been called to the scene Trundle managed to convince them to let Rage go with a drunk and disorderly misdemeanor. While Trundle was running around like a mad man trying to keep his clients out of jail, the hospital or the Coroner’s Von Dire and Sleaze took a Ferrari for a test drive and traded it for $10,000 of Crack.

Now with a fat sack filled with high quality Crack Rocks walked to the nearest Shitty Corner Neighborhood Hellhole ran up a $379 tab before the two pulled a Booze-N-Bolt stiffing the elderly bartender who called the Cops. Fueled by a serious supply of Crack Von Dire and Sleaze picked up some $2 Hookers, and got a room at the nearest Flop House Motel (You know the kind where you pay by the hour and no one snitches)

After a STD ridden sexfest Von Dire and Sleazy had literally burned through their Crack Stash opted to inject Adderall into their necks. This is when all of a sudden Trundle burst into the room. He knew where the two were at because he had placed a GPS Tracker in one Vile’s many pieces of jewelry. Trundle had done this because after 12 years in the music business he had learned how to keep track off “High Risk” Talent. Trundle took Von Dire and Sleazy to a local 24 hour Drug Detox Center and had both their systems flushed free off Narcotics.

Feb 20th Malice misses their set at the “SLC Metal Mayhem” Festival due to the band was still recovering from the partying they did the night before. When the Crowd found out Malice was going to be a No Show they began to riot tearing the venue to pieces. In a last ditch effort to end the riot without incident or Police involvement the Festival’s Promoter announced that another fan favorite The Savage Savages would be taking Malice’s spot, and there would be a free meet-N-Greet after the show. This soothed the seething fans who stopped the destruction and celebrated in jubilation. The night ended with no one getting hurt or arrested, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Feb 21st Malice arrive at “Madmen of Metal” Festival in Hoonah Alaska population 740 (571 of which were rabid Malice Fans). The Show was one of Malice’s most notorious they ever preformed. As the band launched into their number one hit “Shit Sandwich” a rouge Penguin waddled on stage. Von Dire being lit as shit on LSD and Mushrooms was completely oblivious, and accidentally kicked the poor Penguin square in the face. What no one knew at the time that the Penguin was in actuality the prized pet of an Inuit Tribal Chief who took it as a gravest of insults. The still oblivious Von Dire instructed Malice to play their unit-authoritarian anthem “Fuck’em All” in response to the angry Inuit barrage. As the Inuits fought security Malice played on further infuriating the already anger Inuits who now where well aware they were being mocked by Malice’s music.

The Inuit’s at last had dispensed of every security guard and ran up on stage, grabbed Von Dire, Sleaze and Vile, tried a rope around their ankles, attached the other end of the rope to awaiting Dog Sleds, and then told the Sled Dogs to Mush dragging the 3 musicians off into the freezing pitch black of the Alaskan night. Von Dire, Vile, and Sleaze where found 8 hours later when the Sled Dogs stopped to take 5. All 3 were treated for frost bite and hypothermia and made a full recovery in a matter of days.

Malice was charged by the State of Alaska for Animal Abuse, Desecrating Sacred Tribal Soil, and Hate Crimes against the indigenous Inuits. None of these law suites was ever settled because Malice Self Destructed before the length court process was complete. To this day no one knows how Rage avoided capture including Rage who was blackout drunk before taking the stage.

Feb 23, 1988 Finally released from the Alaskan Hospital Von Dire, Vile, and Sleaze rejoined Rage and the band departed for the Oregan’s “Masters of Metal” Festival in the town of Ashland. Before the show Sleaze had an altercation with the opening band Pisser’s drummer. Apparently Sleaze was not a fan of Pisser’s music and considered them to be Punk Rock Wannabe’s. Sleaze had spent the day insulting the band, and talking mad shit to anyone who’d listen. Then Sleaze was approached by a reporter for “Heavy Metal Magazine” for a on the spot interview about the Festival Tour thus far, and how the band was handling it. During the interview of course Sleazy used the platform to further insult Pisser claiming their guitarist Ulrich “The Urinal” Upschicker was a shitty Eddie Sleaze imitation. Sleaze went on to further claim Pisser stole Stank Breath’s musical style in a lame attempt to capitalize on Malice’s wild success.

Later that night during Malice’s encore that night Ulrich made an unscheduled and unwanted appearance. Ulrich walked determinately onto the stage waiving a Giant, Double Headed, Neon Pink Dildo, and then walked over to Sleaze. Sleaze who was already striding across the stage to see what the fuck Ulrich was doing dropped his guitar and flipped Ulrich off with both hands. Ulrich then charged at Sleaze wailing the Dildo until he got face to face with Sleaze at which point he Pimp Slapped Sleaze across the face knocking him backwards.

Rage then threw his drum sticks at Ulrich who responded by ducking the drum sticks and laughing manically at Rages attempt to thwart him. Rage then came bolting out from behind his drums like a Bull in a china shop knocking his entire drum kit off the drum stage. Once Rage hit the stage he unceremoniously tripped over part of his drum kit and twisted his ankle sending him crashing down face first through his Bass Drum.

This amused Ulrich who now was being some what restrained by Security to no end, and further facilitating Ulrich’s maniacal Laughing. fit. Sleaze at the same time was distracted from Ulrich because he was busy battling Security to get off of him. Sleaze head butted several Security Guards before breaking free long enough to run across the stage, leap over the heads of the Security Guards surrounding Ulrich, and hit him with one hell of a Haymaker. The Punch hit Ulrich with such force it knocked out Ulrich’s two front teeth. Security consolidated their efforts on Sleaze at that point as Ulrich was distracted now looking for his teeth, and hollering for a Gallon of Milk.

Vile and Von Dire scrambled around avoiding Security as a couple of Roadies managed to retrieve Rage from amid the chaos to the on site EMT Tent. Von Dire spent his time dodging Security to rile the Crowd into a fit of frenzy until the Promoter cut the mic. This didn’t stop Von Dire who continued to scream at the Crowd inciting a violent relation against Pisser and any asshole who would hire them. Vile grabbed a bottle of Whiskey from the side of the stage (and downed the entire bottle) while ducking Security who were desperately trying to end the fight between Sleaze and Ulrich. The Police showed up in full Riot Gear and started using Tear Gas to disperse the unruly Crowd sending Malice fleeing the stage. Malice made it safely (aside from Rage’s self induced sprained ankle) to the waiting tour bus, and Trundle put the peddle to the metal speeding off down the Highway words the next show.

Feb. 26th 1988 Malice had spent the last couple of days on the way to South Dakota’s “Mega Metalfest” Festival in the town of Wall on the phone doing hundreds of interviews with the press in America, Asia, Canada, and Europe. Undoubtedly Malice was dominating the music scene across every medium Televisions, Newspapers, Magazines, and Word of Mouth. By the time Malice pulled into Wall their ego’s were so inflated they cancelled their performance, and announced it was due to the fact they had become too famous to play a town like Wall (whose a year round population of 800.)

Feb 28th 1988 The final day of the Festival Circuit Malice had fired Trundle and were actively looking for new representation. They had also terminated their deal with WhoreMonger and signed instead with Razorback Records who promised they could record their first album immediately. See up to this point though Malice’s success was sizable it was built sold on their live shows, they hadn’t even recorded a single song. That nights show was wild as Malice hit the stage in high spirits and ended up playing 4 encores before showering the audience with $250,000 worth of Champaine (the Band used the entire $250,000 signing bonus with Razorback on the extravagance) Malice spent the rest of the night driving around town partying with everyone who crossed their path.

Stay Tuned for the Next Installment Of Malice The Band Who Almost Killed Us All posting NEXT after this radically surreal piece by SpaceDog.

Thank for Reading,

Les Sober