Greetings to all from a tricked-out Sprinter cutting through the night in France. The Sprinter belongs to our friend Ed the Duck, a fine gentleman from Norwich who takes very good care of us on this side of the Atlantic and otherwise. The Weatherthans are playing loud in the background, and I'm holding two kinds of bottles somehow while I type this. Life is good and plentiful. The fact that we're back in Europe right now playing the songs we wrote in our bedrooms blows my mind. We've managed to endure a ridiculous (read: epic) trek in between our blast of a US tour with Less Than Jake, our first ever and incredibly memorable trip to Japan, and our raping of a steering wheel (AKA very long drive) back home to Toronto from San Francisco. And now we're here. A gigantic cheers goes out to NOFX for having us out with them in Europe. Head exploding gigantic cheers.

This passed weekend we experienced the magic of Groezrock for the second year in a row. This festival in Belgium stands as the best day of the year for our band, two years in a row. Quick recap: A proper Catch 22 reunion the night before we play @ Groezrock which was so beautiful one could shed a proverbial tear for sure. We miss our friends PO Box play by literally 15 minutes - which was a severe bummer. Paul and I drunkenly argue for a while in the van about potentially lost van keys while everyone tries to sleep. The keys are found the next morning, so we're OK. We wake up too early the next morning and load up a ramp on stage directly afterward. Too, too early. We eat breakfast and get ready to play even before midday. The Groezrock crowd shows us even more love than last year, which is a tough regiment if you ask me. We spend the rest of our glorious Belgian day reuniting with our friends in This Is A Standoff, Outbreak, Rentokill, Comeback Kid, and Misery Signals, watching The Vandals and The Get Up Kids, being stoked to spend some time with dudes from Bane and The Unseen, smoking kids at Singstar (Paul Ramirez ladies and gentlemen), and drinking lots and lots. My night ended with Scott and the aforementioned Ed the Duck at a Chinese food restaurant across the street from our small, every hotel, having a drink while the owner's children desperately wanted to go to sleep. We got the hint and made quick work. Belgium, oh Belgium!

We made a stop in Germany to play a BMX competition with NOFX the next day after Groezrock. The show was fun. I passed out in shotgun sometime afterwards, as its legal to drink Whiskey and Coke's on overnight (or "anytime") drives. I most likely drooled all over my makeshift Rocket From the Crypt euro-pillow. Euro-pillows are either much larger or substantially smaller than pillows I'm used to, being a pasty Canadian. I find that interesting, and yes… even humorous.

Since we've been back in France and lucky enough to play the amazing shows we have been with NOFX, I've learned that the shows are all amazing and fucking hot, sitting on a dude wearing a wife-beater who is sitting on the stage while you're playing will most likely result in you and your guitar covered in beer, and that French folks certainly know how to smoke cigarettes and have a good time. We slept on the beach the night before our show in Toulouse, bringing us as close as we ever may get to Africa. That's pretty fucking cool. We've been spending more days than not working on new songs on a mini-acoustic guitar Jon found when cleaning out a stranger's apartment one day. Garbage really can be treasure, because when I'm away from that guitar I feel like I shouldn't play any other in existence. Pathetic? A definite possibility ladies and gentlemen. A definite one.

Quote of the tour so far:
"I hate those hippie jugglers!" -Ed the Duck

Perhaps I should retire for the night so I can wake up in Paris tomorrow feeling ready for life rather than hungover and miserable. We all appreciate you wasting a small part of your life reading about ours.