Well, this may have been my longest hiatus from blogging yet, and I apologize. But it's not my fault!!! As you may note from the picture below, I was abducted by a runaway herd of black sheep for months and months and was forced into many wrongdoings…..(story of my life)....


Umm.....okay, not really.......I have no valid excuse for my laziness, so I must now promptly blame it on the evils (and addictive ease) of the ever-trendy Facebook...a modern day, wasteful, mind-numbing, time-sucking DEVIL!!!! Oh snap! Hang on a sec, someone just made a comment on my FB status...gotta check it.....BRB…

Okay! I’m back. So I thought a good return to this blog would be to recap my comical year of 2008 for you….I know it’s almost February 2009, but what else would you expect from me but a significantly overdue diatribe of the touring industry accompanied by a highlight reel of my ridiculous escapades.

So let’s see…After a gracious 36 hours at home for Christmas 2007, I returned to the 8th ring of hell to finish the R. Kelly tour.
Just to recap..........

Just to reiterate...

booty booty booty booty booty booty booty.....

Luckily enough, I would only have to bite the bullet for 2 more weeks of this slum circus! And so on New Year’s Eve 2008, after another electrifying, sold-out show in Miami, (um, not really) I was in the midst of pondering the past two months and what the next several months' adventure would bring once I made my break from the ghetto - when, after a 1 a.m. load-out, my crew yelled at me to “Hurry up – shower and change! – The bus drivers are going to wait on US for once!!” (we had to wait on them frequently as they refused to take us to the next city several times until they had received some sort of a paycheck or cash from R. Kelly’s production team – nice). So I zipped into my finest bus p.j.’s and followed my crew with reckless abandon! After fighting long line after long line on this notoriously crazy holiday night, we finally found someplace with very little wait, and after paying a $20 cover charge in a dark, seedy entrance hallway, we were ushered in to "Celebrate the New Year!!"…….....IN.........A....... strip club! $10 beers and boobs.....Just the way to embark on a new year of promise and 'CHANGE' ("Can I get 15 ones and a five to tip please?"). How do I get roped into this shit? Aha! The black sheep herder! That's how!

Well, we clearly got the job done in a very short time as Rob demonstrates in this charming 4 a.m. “slumber” in the front lounge (you may not notice the drool coming from his mouth, but please appreciate the festive, decorative toilet paper I added!). “Happy New Year!”


Well, at the end of the tour, as a result of my “good attitude,” (bitchiness) my "great leadership," (bitchiness), and being the only girl (bitch), I was awarded the “Crew Chief 'HBIC' (head bitch in charge) Trophy.” Those boys are so cute when they finally realize their place.

Ahhh…R. Kelley tour…..2 months of my life I will never forget (as much as I drink), and 2 months of my life I will never get back (as many therapy sessions as I complete).

Right back atcha, Kells.....It is because of who YOU are, that I am the cynical, disillusioned bitch that I am today.

With the promise of Bruce Springsteen and humane treatment just around the corner, I returned to Arizona to celebrate laughter with my dear friends,

climb a mountain with Dr. Drunk Ash Alicia,

and work towards a healthier life in 2008 (still trying to find that in 2009)
with an anonymous person who works for, but happens to be the antithesis of this company!!!

Little did I know my long, arduous journey towards the Springsteen camp would again suffer another hurdle…
A hurdle of monumental size…an insurmountable feat… an obstacle of epic proportions…a ginormous pain in the ass SOOO large, it could only be attested to……
Heartburn?
Indigestion?
Or...could it be???

The 2008 Spice Girls Reunion Tour. Are you f#@!ing kidding me?

After the company I used to work for respectfully handed me my own ass for taking another tour (Springsteen) with a competing company (long story) they conveniently begged me to ‘squeeze in’ one month of the hellish ‘Spice’ pandemonium before the promise of greener pastures in the utopia known as the Bruce Springseen camp.
So reluctantly, out of guilt, and not wanting to burn the bridge that was being held together merely by a string, I agreed. Doh!
24 semi-trucks of shit crammed into arenas that usually can only take up to 18. More video gear than I've ever seen in one place. 20 sold-out shows (in 30 days) of garishly dressed gay men, 30-something has-beens, shrill-screaming pre-teens and their rich, drunk, cougar moms (and I'm just talking about the people ON the stage - you should see the people in the audience!!).
I liken the show to this recipe…
Tear two pixie-sticks open and pour them into the right side of your cheek. Take two more pixie-sticks and pour them into the left side of your cheek. Finally, insert a giant wad of cotton candy starting at the back of your throat, filling any remaining space in your mouth until you almost feel the effects of suffocation…..Allow teeth to ache severely before vomiting. And that, my friends, is the recipe for working on/watching the Spice Girls Reunion show. I will let the pictures speak for themselves.....argh...if only I knew how to accompany them with a gagging sound byte........





Sorry these pics are only of the massive video walls during video play back, but I could not take pictures during the show as I was huddled behind this camera (notice the bags under my eyes as a direct result of this death march),

placed strategically in the middle of the screaming audience, and being constantly yelled at by a drill sergeant director to "Get the girl singing! Posh (the skinny bitch who looks like an alien), wait! No-It's Sporty (the one with the fake hair and freaky stage smile)! Fuck! Who is singing? Scary! Get Scary (the dominatrix bitch)! Jesus, it's Baby (the whiney bitch who can't sing for shit)! Ginger! Wait!! - Fuuuck!"
What can you say about Ginger....a lot. But most of it can be summed up by her solo number, "It's Raining Men," where she dry-humped 30 gay guys all over the stage in an outfit that was actually taken from a Rollerskate Barbie box at Target and shrunk down to look a bit sexier.

I will say, my favorite part of the show (mostly because I got a 5 minute break from shooting) was Victoria 'Posh' Beckham's giant solo march down the catwalk/runway....


Notice the "paparazzi" in front of the stage - which is jut some of the dancers with fake flash cameras to enhance the Hollywood hullabaloo of this fashion sensation......hmm......kinda reminds me of R. Kelly's fake security guards enhancing his need for protection from the haytas. Man, I'm really starting to think showbiz might be just one big sham......hmmmm......

And wouldn't you know it - after all the shit I went through - that her hot ass husband David Beckham was never there for even one show so I could ogle him?!?! Dirtball!
Here's a few more shots...



And at the end of tour party.......my dear friend "Tiny Dancer" couldn't have expressed it any better.....

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. (SPICE me the F#@! outta here!)

But wait!!! The end of tour bonus??? A picture, $500, and an autographed thank you note from "the girls," which I have been adamantly trying to sell on EBay ever since....anyone?
(click on photo for an enlarged picture of saran-wrapped enlarged breasts)


So NOOOOOW can I go to Bruce? Pleeeeease?!............

TO BE CONTINUED......
'2008 Part II' coming after some sleep and a few more beers......

"Hot Ghetto Mess"

As I sit here in the aisle seat of the very back row of this cramped, packed airplane, trying only to imagine where we are – as my surrounding view is limited to the 3 seats in front of me and a series of zippers and potbellies of the people in line for the bathroom - a realization occurs to me.....nearly every single person's body on this entire plane has initimately rubbed my left shoulder and arm as they’ve passed by. While the line they are standing in, nearly 5 people deep at all times on this 5 hour flight, slowly creeps foward to the 2 small, stinch-filled boxes with pee-stained toilet seats, papertowel-overflowing trashcans (and yet mysteriously wet floors and sinks), I have started to count the number of times per minute I am violated (If not by their ass, then certainly by their bellies or boobs or pungent perfume) as they lean in and half-mount me to allow another person to pass in the already ridiculously narrow aisle. I mean seriously, have they no concept of any personal space? I just busted the last passerby leaning in and actually reading this blurb I am writing about him! Maybe I should type in big size 26 letters "Please kindly remove your giant ass from my arm." or "While you're back there, can you ask the flight atendant for a bottle of vodka? Actually, make it 2. One to dull my overwhelming annoyance and the other to sanitize my germ-infested left arm/shoulder/face." Anyway, in these moments of complete and utter violation, I have a sudden inspiration to write about one of the other great violators of our time: R. Kelly!




























**NOTE: For clarification purposes, throughout this blog entry the afore mentioned violator may be referred to by any of his family or hood names at any time, such as: “Robert,” “R,” “Robs,” or my personal favorite, "Kells." Just wanted you to avoid the confusion I went through in trying to figure out who all of these different names belonged to.

You might be thinking, how in the world did Kim end up writing about this hot ghetto mess?? Well, let me tell you. Last November, I was originally booked on the Bruce Springsteen tour. At the very last minute, there was a crewing mix-up, and I was told I would not be joining the Springsteen tour, BUT, because it was their fault, they would pay me anyway until they could figure out what to do. So while I am sitting at home on me arse, getting a full paycheck, I was thinking, "This is too good to be true man!" Ah ah ah, never tempt fate like that. Fastforward to phone call from company owner: "Kim, I need to try and recuperate some of the money I have paid you, so I need you to replace a guy on the R. Kelly tour." So out the window flies my adamant refusal of ever doing a ghetto rap tour!!! Even though I've heard the many, many horror stories, I had to continually ask myself, "how bad can it really be?" else I might not have been able to get on the plane.

First things first, I am leaving the beautiful, balmy sunshine of Arizona in December to meet this tour in Kansas City, and upon landing, this is what I see out the airplane window....


So as you can imagine, I'm already pissed off. Then, once I arrive to the arena, I have to stand outside in this blizzard for 30 minutes waiting for someone to bring me some credentials to allow me into the building (yeah, I'm a real security risk compared to ole Robs, with his rape charges and the many other miscellaneous charges his "entourage" is facing/has faced....but we'll get to all of that later!) Finally, they allow me in. When I arrive to the video production area, I learn that they "forgot" to fire the guy I am replacing the night before. ?????? What?! So now, I have this very large gentleman (who is also a personal space invader) with foul breath leaning in to tell me with his extreme southern accent...."Hey! I'm Ricky, nice to meetcha! I heard there was this girl here to replace me...something about Springsteen mix-up or something. I'm not sure why I'm being fired...I hope I didn't make anyone mad...I wonder when she's gonna get here..." To which I responded with an overly dramatic tap on his shoulder, and by mouthing the words, "That's me." Genius. So, I essentially get to fire the guy I am replacing. Sweet. We are off to a running start already with this mess and I haven't even started working yet.

Fast forward to the first show that night. I was totally unsure of what to expect, but a really good cue might have been the mischievous smirk on my director Jody's face (he's on the right in the pic below) when he said, "It's a really good show Kimmy! Seriously, you, especially, are going to love it."


As the house lights go out, there is a nervous jitter amongst the crowd......I can't tell if it is the anticipation of seeing one of the greatest wonders to ever come out of the Chicago ghetto, or if it is because the rigorous security screening process has made the crowd edgy....airport-style metal detectors, bag search, and full pat downs included.
Suddenly the crowd erupts into mayhem as the spotlights find their mark, and the reflection of what has to be 100,000 pieces of sequence on Kells white jacket blinds the audience as he makes his entrance from the back of the arena through the audience to the stage. Below is a shot of him on our video screen, where you can see the hood part of the white sequence jacket and it's nuclear white reflection. Oh...by chance are those sequenced sunglasses, too? Why yes, yes they are. Somewhere in the world, Liberace is turning over in his grave at this gross misuse of gaudy kitsch.

Surrounded by security (real and fake officers to enhance the audience's belief of his need for protection from the "haters" - pronounced 'haytas') and several members of his entourage, he climbs the steps to a make-shift boxing ring where he refuses to enter the ring until his posse holds the ropes open for him. Already in the ring are a harem of women parading around in near nothingness and carrying signs to inform us that "The Champ Is Here." And if that were not evidence enough, the music, the crowd, and the posse are all shouting "The Champ is here, the champ is here...get your mother fuckin hands in the air!" while making C's with both hands and flailing them about (I assume that is the international sign for "Champ"). Well! The Champ must be here indeed!



At this point, I would like to tell you that the show got better...but if I said that, I would not be accurately reporting the truth. The set list included songs like, "Can I Strip For You?" where R appears to be standing in silhouette and graciously taking off his clothes for us to adore his body. Below is a picture as he removes his shirt, and the second picture when he drops his pants around his ankles. I especially like how the shadow effect allows us to only imagine what we can't see.


But not to worry, because in the next song, "My Temperature's Rising" he uses a sequenced cane (seems to be an abundance of sequence for such a big playa/gangsta ) to insinuate the size of his you know what as it "rises" from the floor to his waist.

By the time "Lonely Tongue" rolls around, where he talks about "this lonely tongue wanting to taste somethin' sweet, and I ain't talkin 'bout no candy..."

the ladies in the audience have worked themselves into a hot, horny, tizzy!!


Just when the ladies can't take it any more, he eases on up to the "roll-on" bar with his buddy and rap partner (whose name escapes me right now as I am too busy trying to remember all of Mr. Kelly's first names). The tequila/henessy/hypnotiq shots are served up by the "bartender" which is really just Colin, our bitter, grungy stage manager shined up in a tux.


After the boys have bonded over a few drinks, what would you expect to be the next logical direction for the show to go?? That's right, say it with me kids, "L-A-P-D-A-N-C-E." The song "I Fell In Love With A Stripper" can best be summed up by the last lyric in the song....."I wanna lick it, wanna stick it, if I could I'd put my whoooooole damn head in it....cuz I fell in love with a strippeeerrrrrr."

Thank you R. Kelly for that authentic ghetto gibberish. I'm just glad all of the youngsters in the audience with their parents (true story) got to hear that sexually explicit number! Families that witness lapdances together, stay together...or is it pray together stay together....I always get those two mixed up.
On a sidenote, the dancer who performed the lap number was quite talented and limber. She was so enthralling that it took me until the second to last show of the entire tour to realize that there were other dancers up on the balcony stage simulating a whole other set of lewd, lascivious acts while the lap dance was going on. Wife: "Honey, should we take the kids to see Hannah Montana or R. Kelly?" Husband: "Hmmm........Well, they're going to have to learn about bisexual strippers, blow jobs, tag-teaming women and peeing on underage girls someday, might as well get it out of the way while we have this ‘golden’ opportunity." Wife: "You're so right honey - we'll take em to see Kells! Tell ya what, we'll even get the kiddos drunk on the way - whaddya say?"

Oh, but we aren't done yet.
This is another one of my favorite parts of the show. This is where Robert gets serious for a moment. I'm all busted up over his sentimental words. Really.




He follows this sincere, touching statement with photos of people he claims that have paved the way for him, such as Martin Luther King, Snoop Dogg, Sydney Poitier, Kanye West, and one of my personal inspirations: Bob Marley.


So, let me get this straight. It's because of who people like Martin Luther King and Bob Marley were - crusaders for the equality of all human beings, pacifists, and the epitome of love and respect that you, R. Kelly, are what you are...a man who recently was accused of statuatory rape with a 13 year old girl after urinating on her, a man who travels with a harem of no less than 5 women employed to be “on call” at all times…a man who refers to himself as “the Champ,” and frequently raps about gang violence. Well, it’s good to know that Mr. King and Mr. Marley didn’t die in vain, I guess. And that someone who was so inspired by them could carry on their message so well…

Let me step off my soapbox for just a moment so that I can wrap up this train wreck! After that poignant moment in the show, he would then lapse into the sweet, slow, lullaby of “Big Booty Girls.” And this is where I must commend him for announcing that he didn’t want to leave the big women out, he wanted everyone to feel included…
“All you big booty girls, stand up and turn around for me…..cuz your big juicy booty is all I want to see….
I'm lookin for that juicy booty, all around this place, I wanna find a juicy booty that will sit upon my face! When I find that juicy booty, there'll be nothing more to seeeeeeeee........So all of you big booty giiiirrrrls....stand up and turn around for meeeeeeeee...."
So, just to let you know, my job for the majority of this show was to film the audience. I don’t know if it was really my job, per se, but I sorta made it that way because I really could only focus on the 'artist' on stage for very short periods of time. So when Kells would tell these big booty girls to stand up and turn around, they wasted no time obeying him (as any bitch would if she know what’s good for her). And the most entertaining part of the show is when I would locate these big women with their voluptuous “booties” and we would put them on the screen.

The moment they realize they are on camera, they would freak out, jump up and down, slap their ass while sticking it in the air, hug everyone around them for their “airtime” achievement….anyway, I really wish I had a picture, because the hysterics would bring tears to my eyes!
Anyway...here is one of the dancers in her final bouncing up and down "pose" for this song....

Which matches the Grammy-award winning lyrics of, "Booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty, etc." (said as fast as you can roll the word off your tongue - try it! It's kinda fun....booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty......)

Finally, the encore began with a film roll of a few other songs that "R" couldn't quite fit into the set list (and what a shame...)
The first a song about how awesome he is, I'm sure. (I never really listened to this part as I was usually relocating to a different camera position or tying my shoe, or smoking a cigarette while trying to light the stage on fire, who knows....) But the costumes for this video must be commended! If you look closely, the dancer behind Kells is wearing a black wife beater (ok, come on, no pun intended there!!) suspenders on backwards and what the hell is hanging off there heads???


The mind reels with ideas as to what these coal miner-style head lights are used for??????


Next song, we have the obligatory woman with a lollipop in her mouth.......original.

And finally, we hit paydirt! We get to see R. Kelly in his underwear - or is that a diaper?? That song was apparently about being caught by his lover's husband and how if the husband was more of a man, like Kells, then they wouldn't be in that situation. Original.

Finally, the show wraps up with a jungle scene, complete with tribal costumes for the dancers and a ridiculously huge white bearskin coat that Kells wore. I really wish I had pictures of this, but I had to shoot camera during this part. It was actually the only theatrical number that had choreography and any thought whatsoever put into it. But don't be disappointed, it was still about sex. I believe the song was called, "Whine for me," but I'm not sure.

Well after a long day of blood, sweat, tears (from the laughter), and the objectification of women....I was ready to head for the bus! But holy shit, which one of these 17 buses is mine???? I learned that the 5 crew buses were parked usually 1/4 mile from the loading dock doors while the 12 other buses for artist and "entourage" were the ones closest to the building. Sweeeeeet.

Once I finally made it to my bus, this was usually what I would see....


Our driver. He was actually one of the highlights of this whole tour. Again, his name escapes me, but that's because he always called me "Baby" or "Shuga" and I called him my "Shuga daddy." He really was one of the sweetest people on this tour! And he would always make sure there was some bus food left for me by the time I got there (which was always either fried chicken or ribs - all kidding aside!) Our driver even stopped on the way to work one day and took us all out for breakfast at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffle which is a famous breakfast joint in L.A. where the serve fried chicken and waffles at the crack of dawn! It was actually really good-even at 7 a.m.!!
Another great part of the after-show bus rides was our friend, Joel - R. Kelly's barber who was apparently exiled from Rob's bus to the video bus because of some sort of tiff they had. The great thing about Joel was, he didn't do much all day but shop, talk on his cell phone and drink Hennessy. So by the time we got there, he was quite chatty and loved to tell us stories of all the women he was involved with and even better, about growing up with Kells in the ghetto. He had all the dirt! I would love to put them in this blog, but I'm afraid that I could somehow get myself or Joel in trouble for repeating. (So call me and I'll tell you over the phone..hahahaha). Anyway, needless to say, not one of the stories improved my opinion of ole Kells!!! And I'm not at all shocked by the recent trial outcome:

R. Kelly was acquitted on all 14 counts in his child pornography case today. The Chicago jury reached a not guilty decision after less than eight hours of deliberating. Kelly was facing a minimum of four years (and a maximum of 15) in prison if convicted of videotaping himself having sex with an underage girl. Prosecutors claimed she was as young as 13 at the time of the taping—she's 23 now—despite her refusal to testify in the case.
One of the prosecution's main witnesses was a friend of the alleged victim, who said she had a threesome with the pair. On the other hand, the singer's legal team argued the man on the tape doesn't have a large mole on his back and Kelly does.


Just like his song, "Money Make The World Go Round," it also buys off witnesses. That's all I have to say about that.

Anyway, it was quite the learning experience.......wait, no it wasn't. It was 2 months of my life that I'll never get back! hahahaha
And I won't dare say I'll never do another ghetto rap tour, but I'll say that I'd rather be doused in gasoline and set on fire
than have to do one again!
Based on the overwhelming sell-out crowds (right), I won't have to.

Signing off from da hood......Kizzle Dog Hamizzle

Booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty booty..............................

GNORMAN'S INFINITE ROAD-TRIP

Well! To start off this post, I will tell you how my dear, dear friend (said with dripping sarcasm) Andrea express-mailed me a gift - or rather an assignment - actually, I'm going to go with curse- A travel gnome project that came along with his own little handwritten travel diary and slutty blond plastic girlfriend he acquired along the way somewhere.

Anyway, Andrea had heard I was traveling to Denver for Thanksgiving to see my brother Kameron and his girlfreind Kimberly who just moved there and my Dad and stepmom Vicky who have lived there for years. I was to take a few pictures, write a story in Gnorman the Gnome’s little diary and send it on to someone else who would pass this gnome and his girlfriend around the country. Simple enough, right? Well. Here it is almost May and I’m still totin that litte f$#!er and his girlfriend around. Their mere presence in the ziplock bag I have stuffed in my suitcase is a constant reminder of my relentless procrastination and the pain in my ass of this innocent project that looms over me like the black cloud of an overdue school book report on Moby Dick. HOWEVER, the afore mentioned little pain in the ass HAS been all over this country (and Canada!), he just hasn’t seen much but the inside of my suitcase and the occasional hotel room when I unzip the pocket where they reside. And so, that being said, I will commence to tell you about Gnorman's infinite ROAD TRIP!

The first day in Denver, we decided to get in the car and drive. At our first stop, we found ourselves at the top of Lookout Mountain in Golden, CO at Buffalo Bill's grave.....where I promptly dropped the girlfriend (the plastic one, not my brother's girlfriend) over the gate surrounding the grave. This was totally not my fault since she always has those stupid arms in the same position and won't even try to help me help her hang on to anything. What a high-maintenance broad - she's just so plastic, ya know?

Well, don't worry - we saved her. Actually, the little Mexican man who spoke no English with a long trash picker-upper in his hand saved her. I can't imagine what this man must have thought about 3 adults (still completely sober at this point) pleading for him to save this tiny plastic doll's life with his trash device while we took pictures and laughed hysterically. Ay carumba ju Americans es muy loco!

After a bit of sight seeing,
Making a few new friends (Although based on the evidence in the field, I think they would probably rather shit on us than be our "friends")....

Role-playing (I always wondered what it would be like to be a short old lady with a big ass shotgun - well I'll tell ya - it feels good. Damn good!)...

(defacing a monument - oops)...



I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, and when I opened my eyes and looked out into the distance, to what should my wondering eyes appear? Mecca. A grand oasis. The promise land. The COORS LIGHT BREWERY.

Hot damn! We jumped in the car and high-tailed it to catch the next tour.
Now for those of you who may not know, Coors Light has been a staple in my life for quite some time. Who am I kidding - like who didn't know that already? hahaha


As you come into the giant waiting room, you are assigned a tour group by the beer labels you are given as you walk in....we were the "Keystone Light" group. We didn't even know they still made that beer - much less at MY brewery! Well that got us talking about Keystone and the "bitter-beer face" commercials...and so we began auditioning our own bitter beer faces for each other, people on other tours, the tour guides...needless to say, no one thought they were quite as funny as we did, and certainly no one laughed and hee-hawed about it for the entire tour like we did either.



As we started the tour - we learned how many types of beer the Coors Brewery distributes - and some of my other favorites were on that list - including Blue Moon! I love you Coors Brewery!!!
We saw how the beer was made, step by step, learned how it was bottled, how it was shipped, how much of it was shipped- an overwhelming amount of information to cover for three people (and a gnome with a plastic girlfriend with dumb arms) who would have gladly traded all of that info to hurry up and get to the free taste testing! haha


Finally! Dreams do come true!! This is promised to be the coldest, freshest beer ever!

Let's toast!!!! Oh! Let me share with you what else I learned....

I always thought I seemed smarter after a few beers - no wonder! Coors is the brewery of knowledge. Amazing!


Well as it turns out - little Gnorman and his girlfriend are no stranger to the sauce! They were sucking down beers like they were at a frat house basement party (which is probably where Gnorman met his little blonde gem).


We even saw some of Gnorm's family hanging on the wall (which turned him into one of those emotional drunks - I miss home and my uncle Guillermo and my goat Gillespy blah blah blah! Pull it together Gnorm - geez, you're an embarrassment man!)


This picture has absolutely no relevance to the story whatsoever except that my brother looks like a bumbling idiot and I would never pass up the opportunity to make fun of him and let all of my friends and family see it.
Well we left the Coors Brewery (before we were asked to leave - as security had to pry the taste-testing glass out of Kam's death grip as he tried to siphon the last drop of Killians (did you know they made that there? Me neither! Amazing!) from the bottom of his glass.






Ever the early risers, we were up at the crack of dawn (right!) to focus on seeing some of the beauty of Colorado...



As I'm looking through these pictures, I realize there is an extra "little friend" with Gnorm and his gal. And then it all starts coming back to me through hazy memories of the night before....After the brewery tour, we made a trek through a wretched snow storm to Kam and Kimberly's neighborhood dive bar...
Then Bert the Bee and his "lady (of the night) friend" treated our little gnome and ole dumb arms (maybe someone should give her a name - I really don't know how else to refer to her) to a night of drinking, gaming, whoring, and God knows what else.




As with many a night of drinking, Gnorm's gal got flirty, tempers flared, Bert the Bee's prostitute duck stormed off and Bert and Gnorm proceeded to get into a very chivalrous swordfight which resulted in a head injury landing Gnorm in the hospital. I have a feeling you wouldn't believe me if I didn't offer photographic evidence! Truth is stranger than fiction they say!

















Wow, I'm exhausted and we haven't even got to the actual Thanksgiving holiday yet!

THANKSGIVING DAY - We finally got to celebrating the holiday with Dad and Vicky! Dad deep fried a turkey while Vicky made lots of awesome food and we had some other guests join us for a great day of food, football, and funnies! (Although we must remember to take pictures next time gang!!)
**On a sidenote, I'm worried that Gnorm's owners must be very worried about their little guy since I have virtually held him hostage for nearly 6 months now. But in his diary, they stressed that he liked apple pie, playing cards, and drinking beer...and that, my friends, we have achieved! He even made up with Bert and invited him to continue on the infinite road trip with him and dumb arms! (I guess they're going to share her?????) So owners, if you're out there, please don't worry - he's being very well taken care of! Promise!




Signing off from a Hampton family holiday - complete with overeating, overdrinking (apparently causing mild retardation if you consult the picture of my brother below), laughing, cussing, and throwing of cards!!!!! Ahhh.....there's no place like Colorado for the holidays!



Stay tuned as Gnorman may pop up again in the next post...."Hot Ghetto Mess."
P.S. Don't be surprised if you check your mail one day and find the Gnome Project Curse in your mailbox, as I have to send it on to someone... ; )

I'M BACK!!!

Well, after much procrastination and prodding I’ve finally returned from my lengthy hiatus of blogging. Please forgive me for neglecting you for so long, but there just always seems to be so many crucial, pressing issues to deal with on days off...And so updating you, my dear friends, has taken a backseat to things like getting a pedicure, catching up on "Lost," plucking my eyebrows, and staring at the hotel room wall and furniture pondering the significance of such fine art pieces as the watercolor hanging before me (which is what I'm captivated by right now as I type this) of an onion and a clove of garlic....and this:
An innocent grandma-style knitting chair...

MADE OF SNAKE SKIN. Uhhh???? Yeah, creepy.

Okay, to be honest, I've been mostly bowling and drinking beer trying to completely shut out any memory of the few tours I have been on over the last few months. I mean, music is a huge part of my life, and as I mentioned before, while Barbra Streisand may not have been my particular flavor of tunes, there's no denying the broad has extraordinary talent, ya know? Well, anyway....you’ll see what I mean in a few…read on...

October began in New Jersey with rehearsals for the Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony tour. I was lucky enough to work with Mike and Jerry again - two of my favorite people in all of touring. Geeez Jerry, keep your tongue in your mouth - you're dropping chromosomes!

As you can see - the excitement of the Atlantic City Boardwalk was more than these two old retired guys, adorned in the required blue-blockers and hiked up britches, snoozing away on a bench in broad daylight, could handle. It took everything in me to keep from screaming "Jackpot!!!" at the top of my lungs - but I just wouldn't be able to live with myself if they had a heart attack or soiled themselves. I'm pretty sure I'll pay a high price someday for all of the making fun of people I do - but man it sure does make me laugh.


HIGHLIGHTS OF THIS TOUR INCLUDE....
Getting to shoot the opening playback segment for Jennifer's set. "I'll do it!" I said. "I know exactly what you're looking for! Ooh! Ooh! Jerry!! I'll do it!!" (I'm like that nerdy kid in 4th grade who wanted to do everything...me! me!! pick me!!!) So we rigged a case up on its end, and that wasn't tall enough. So we added a case on top of a case. And I (very gracefully - ha) climbed upon our trailer park invention and plopped my ass up there for at least an hour and a half before the lighting was "just right," and Jennifer's hair was "just right," and the camera angle was, "just right," and the playback was"just right," oh, get her make-up "just right," are the song tracks "just right?" and so at this point my hip cramps had gone from "just right," to the complete loss of feeling in both legs....but hey - take your time guys! Ahhh...just right!! Let's shoot it! And I did it dammit - numb legs be damned! And it turned out cool! Gotta love youtube.....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKOmb135hFQ
(it's pretty crappy quality - but you'll get the idea).

A 3 day stay at a "spa" in Connecticut where I thought we should relax- not with massages or pedicures, but by playing speed quarters "college style" at a Monday Night Football game in my spacious condo that only a few people on the crew had the good fortune at "luck of the draw" to get. Ya know, I never did hear if there was a "damage fee" for all of the nicks in the coffee table....oops.

More white trash bowlin....

Being constantly reminded by management to deny the "Is Jlo pregnant!!?!" rumor.....Ummmmm.....What do YOU think??
This picture was taken at the 3rd show into the tour....hmmm...nah, she doesn't look pregnant to me!

And finally, an end of tour softball game and party in Miami. Our team captains were Marc and Jennifer and I was picked to be on Jennifer's team (lastly,of course, because I was the only girl playing - and who wants a girl on their team? Eww!)

Funny enough, we only had 6 gloves for both teams, one of which had part of the webbing torn out and so therefore, had a huge hole in it- and was given to, none other than "moi," playing in the position of "catcher" (ironic, isn't it?). After missing a couple of plays at the plate due to said glove malfunction, ole pregnant girl marched her pregnant ass on the field and said, "I need someone who can make a play at the plate!" To which I responded (under my breath with disdain), "I need a freakin millionaire pop star who can afford to buy a glove with no damn hole in it!" I never did take criticism well. So ever since then, me and Jlo have so been in a fight....and when she finds out, I'm sure she'll be crushed.
But the most exciting thing that happened on the tour - is that I got to catch for Pudge Rodriguez - the catcher for the Detroit Tigers who "dropped in" to pitch and say hello to his friend Marc Anthony. At least he was sympathetic to the hole in my glove and didn't try to trade me out! And he's wasn't pregnant and bitchy! hahaha Yeah for Pudge!

So here's one final shot of the party that night. The people in this picture are some of the video crew and members of the back-up salsa band- who were a very talented group of Latino musicians and played an awesome set with Marc Anthony's unstoppable voice for the first half of the show and then were forced to endure "mock-playing" for Jennifer's set because it was all set to tracks...Now that had to feel a bit insulting...(I will cut her some slack -she was dancing her Jlo booty ass off all over the stage to extensive choreography, all the while carrying twins - but she WASN'T pregnant!!! shhh!!!)

A small group of us decided quickly that the party was too "South Beach meets Hollywood" for us and decided we had to leave in time to make a final stop at Mango's for "just one more" mint mojito.....and man was I glad I did....it was the guys' turn to salsa dance on the bar......And I was NOT sad about that.....AT ALL...

Okay - so that's one ridiculously over-the-top, lip-syncing, shiny-shoe, annoying mainstream pop tour down...only a couple of more to go. Really though, how bad can it be?

THE ANNUAL VALPARAISO POPCORN FESTIVAL!


Anyone who knows me knows I love three things: Suprising people, beer, and getting to drink that beer with my friends all over the world. So when Alicia (you may also know her as "blue water tower girl," "the SNL 'I'm 50 and I can kick' character," or the "Oh shit- i'm stranded in London for a week" girl) told me about her annual trek to her hometown in northern Indiana for the Orville Redenbacher Popcorn Festival - I knew this could be an unparalleled chance to do all three of my favorite things at once, all the while saluting the legendary father of popcorn - and in the heart of the midwest!!! All of a sudden, I felt like I was in the middle of a John Mellencamp song!!

Oh man, this is gonna be fun!!!!!!!

It's been my mission over the last few years to try and surprise my friends Beth and Pam with a visit, which usually proves to be a failure as Beth has some sort of freakish e.s.p.!

I have enlisted the help of dozens of people and concocted many an elaborate plan to try and achieve that heart-stopping, shrill-screaming, pants-wetting kind of surprise - but it usually ends with Beth saying, "I knew you were coming Kimmy!" Dammit!
So I thought I'd try again. But this time, I brought Leah with me (who lives in Phoenix, but ironically calls Valparaiso her hometown too!). As Leah and I hid in a hotel bathroom, knee to knee in the tub waiting for our big chance to jump out and scare them, we struggled to hold back our laughter at how absolutely absurd we must look. As the hotel door opened, we sucked in our breath, bit our tongues, and shook in anticipation.....only to hear, "Kimmy, I know you're in here - just come out! Let me guess, you're in the shower!"Daaaammmmmmit. Mark my words Beth Ann - I will get you someday - and you know it! HA

Anyway - the fun was underway! So far, Leah has surprised Alicia and Brad, Leah and I TRIED to surprise Beth and Pam, and the next day Leah was going to surprise her Mom (see - it's a contagious disease, this surprise thing!). After a few beers and excitable chit-chat - we decided to call it an early night as Alicia was running in the Popcorn Festival race the next morning (yes they have a race, too!) and we had a big day of popcorn action ahead of us!
As I lay in bed, dreaming of sugarplums (snoring), my mind drifted to thoughts of this amazing festival - like, what should I wear? Will their be anyone famous there? Will I be able to properly document this phenomenon so that you, the reader, can actually feel the popcorn ambience?

The next morning, after some great gas station coffee - we were off to tackle the Popcorn Festival with great vigor!

Immediately, I knew I chose the wrong outfit. Dammit. I wore a dark shirt on a hot sunny day, and I was carrying a jacket and purse around all day - what was I thinking? I wasn't, I guess. Take for example this lady:

I mean, she's like the paradigm of popcorn festivaling! She's really keeping her cool with that tube top and those shorts just top off an already patriotic outfit. Notice how the red fanny pack blends in a chameleon-like way to deter those pesky popcorn pick-pockets! She's brought along a nice-sized tote bag for those popcorm purchases and souvenirs....oh! And finally, a hat which serves dual purposes as sun protector and NASCAR fan identifier - a must-have in this area of the country! Note to self taken for next year's festival attire! Well-done ma'am!
Everywhere I looked, I felt my sad attempt at being festival-ready thrown in my face. Perhaps I could've gotten a little more into the popcorn spirit - this festival only occurs once a year for cryin out loud! The dedication of the local Valparaisans was, at the very least, awe-inspiring!




Next, we finally located Leah's mom in the huge mob of people! Finally! Someone gives us the reaction we were looking for!

Yeah Debbie!!! Maybe I'll just give up on Beth and Pam and come to surprise Debbie all the time!! Although, on second thought, I may not get the same response as her beloved daughter Leah and she might think I'm quite weird if I were to go to Valpo and jump out of a closet somewhere screaming, "Surprise Deb!" since I've only met her twice.
As they hugged in delight, I caught something out of the corner of my eye that made my heart leap! Could it be? Oh yes! A celebrity sighting! Ah crap! He's got security all over him. You know, I think it's such a load of crap how people think they're so big and famous that they have to be transported on a golf cart and get whisked away by dudes in yellow shirts, ignoring the (my) shouts for autographs from the devoted fans who made them famous in the first place. Whatever!

How about this guy!? He's the King of Rock n' Roll, made millions of dollars, and died (or did he?) and he's out strolling and swiggin beer amongst the simple people. Now there's a guy that appreciates his fans, who remembers what it was like before all the fame and fortune! Long live the KING!

Speaking of swiggin beer. We were in crisis mode. We could only find one bar that was selling carry-out beer and it seemed that our little secret leaked to the entire festival as the once short line morphed into a scene from a girl's bathroom line at a Jimmy Buffet concert. But if there's one thing I've learned in my life - you can always count on true friends to perfom miracles! God love ya Dr. Drunk Ash!!


As the sun began to set on this sensational day, I began reflecting on all the fun and wacky things and people I saw....
A CHICK MAGNET...


POPCORN:


MANY INVENTIVE USES FOR STROLLERS....
The munchie/munchkin mover:

The "2 in 1"double stacker stroller:

And my personal favorite, the "Whoop Ass" beer and cigarette carriage (check out her t-shirt logo and the top tier of this stroller!):


A LONG-LEGGED JUGGLING JESTER:


EARS OF CORN:


GREAT FRIENDS! (Oh snap - is that Leslie the other "London Loiterer?" Why yes!! Yes it is!! Sweet - she's another Valparaisan raisin!)



AND MORE POPCORN:


Amy: Unfortunately we were unable to find popcorn pencil erasers or bikinis made of popcorn. I, too, was disappointed, but we spoke with the girl who sold t-shirts and made clear our interests in seeing more diverse popcorn souvenirs next year. I think she was talking to someone from her sorority on her cell phone, so I wasn't sure if she was nodding in agreement with us or her friend on the phone. We actually discussed "representin" in a booth next year! We figured with beer coozies and a few unconventional popcorn concepts, we could at least pay for our airfare and hotel to attend again next year! Who's in??
On a side note Amy - did Leah give you your t-shirts yet?

Did she tell you the bag of popcorn I gave her to give you was found on the ground somewhere? Because, uhhh, that's a lie...it wasn't. I mean, not that I remember, anyway. It was from my heart. ; )

The band played their final song, the booths closed up, our cooler ran dry, and all that was left was a bunch of poooped popcorn partiers and a few kernels of corn.....


Must be time to go home. Good times girls! Good times!! I can only hope that my work schedule will cooperate to make it to next year's Annual Valparaiso Popcorn Festival!!
Speaking of non-cooperative work schedules....My visit to Indiana was cut extremely short due to an ever-changing JLO/Marc Anthony schedule. Dammmmmmmmit. This one last picture from the Popcorn Fest speaks the motto of my life:


Well, at least I made it back to my Mom's house and was able to squeeze a quick dinner in at my favorite Lebanon Mexican joint (well, the only real Lebanon Mexican joint, I guess) with some of my other fabulous Indiana friends before I had to split town! Yeah LHS girls - we finally remembered to take a picture so you could make it into my riveting, hack attempt at a blog!


Ali-that margarita is as big as your head!!! Go girl, Go!!!

More good times girls, more good times! Let me just take a moment and say that I have the best friends on the face of this planet!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can't wait to see all of you again!

Well, that's it for this blog update gang! I'm out!

LABOR DAY WEEKEND CAMPING IN NORTHERN ARIZONA
After 6 weeks with Barbra Streisand, only 24 hours at home, 12 shows in 2 weeks with Tim McGraw and Faith Hill – I was absolutely KNACKERED! So I returned to Arizona to relax and immediately started melting in the 108+ temperatures, which really made me mad. So I concocted a very intricate detailed scheme for some of my days off: GET OUT OF THE HEAT!
That was the plan. I didn’t care if I had to sit in someone’s refrigerator for a week, I was going to make coolness happen.
Well who better to consult about “coolness” then the epitome of coolness himself. The hipster of happening, the guy of grooviness:
My brother Kameron.
So here's the plan: My big bro Kameron, and his girlfriend Kimberly (who decided with me that Kam and her can’t ever break up because we like each other way more than either of us like him! Ha) and our trip mascot: The always lively, always playful TY

were going to hit the road to the high country of northeast Arizona for a camping trip!!


We planned to hit the road early - around 7a.m. Saturday morning- which would give us almost 3 full days away from hell on earth - summertime in Phoenix. (But it's a dry heat.)

At 10 a.m. the next morning,we pulled out of the Jack in the Box drive thru with greasy breakfast sandwiches to settle our stomachs from the "planning session" the night before, we could hardly contain our excitement (or in Kam's case - his gas) to start "roughin it" in the beauty and more importantly, the COOL of the Arizona mountains.
After 4 hours of driving, 6 stops to pee, and a few minor skirmishes about my driving (men are just completely incapable of being silent passengers, aren't they? GEESH!) we
still weren't there! A wrong turn added another hour (yah! Who's the ass now Mr. Navigator? hahaha) but took us through a couple of very quaint towns (which we promised to return to) and then finally to Lake Lyman - our feature destination, which boasted "beach-front camping," bathrooms with showers, open camp fires, and beautiful scenery.

Wow. That's odd. I thought the website said beautiful scenery. Looks like a couple of furry hills to me.
And I could have sworn they said "beach-front" camping. Now, don't get me wrong, we certainly didn't expect the Sandals Resort in Jamaica....but this?!?!?! Brown, murky water with unidentifiable things growing and floating about??

Oh well. We were tired of driving, I was in desperate need of a frothy beverage, and Ty was getting antsy,

so we decided to set up camp and make the best of it.

Will you look at those crashing waves coming in?!! So relaxing...the sweet lull of beach-front camping.

And look! They even have Hooter's waitresses that will deliver beer directly to your campsite! Maybe this place isn't so bad after all!

Uh Oh. What's that I see on the horizon? Not one....but TWO storm fronts!


Oh for shit's sake - here comes the damn rain again! It's like I have some sort of tracking device that reports my location directly to Mother Nature so that she can in turn piss all over me!! BUT! By some miracle, the two fronts on either side of our campsite passed right over and left us in the clear. Whew! Close one.
But never fear, just when we were getting into some great "campfire singing" (i.e., drunken off-key karaoke to the Ipod accompanied by a wicked set of air drums and air guitar), the huge drops began to fall. We scrambled to get everything put away and the three of us and our mascot huddled into one tent to so that we could make group decisions about our safety and decide on an evacuation plan should it become necessary. Okay, hehe, not really. We just relocated the party inside the tent and laughed til we cried as the sides of the tent bellowed and tried to beat us to death all the while the radio broadcast severe weather warnings. Geeez.....what a bunch of idiots!
Well, apparently we made it through the night because I awoke with a beaming headache and the screaming sun...

uuhhh, I mean a screaming headache and the beaming sun in my eyes with complete mush brain and little clue as to where I was or what happened. Wow, that must have been one hell of a storm!

So I had spent the previous afternoon sweating just setting up my tent...and the next morning sweating taking down my tent...hmm..somehow, I strongly suspected my original goal of "cool" had not been reached. In fact, I think we over shot it by 60 miles. Time to pack up and head back to where we got lost the day before - perhaps one of those quaint towns we passed earlier - how about PINE KNOB?? Sounds good! But not before Kam has a chance to dazzle us with his "Top Chef" skills (in his dazzling top chef bald-head-sun-protecting-$7-camp-store-bought hat! ha).

Kameron battled flies, heat and crackhead camping neighbors (a whole other story with a lot less teeth) just to provide us with a nutritional breakfast - instant coffee, greasy bacon and sausage, and eggs with cheese (plus a few other outdoor mystery additives...crunch...).

After waiting in an hour-long line for the luxurious "spa-like" experience of showering while standing ankle deep in the last preson's water, and an hour drive back the way we came before, we decided we had earned the reward of real burger, cooked in a real restaurant in much more sanitary conditions then we had attempted thus far. Once we arrived, we found a bloody mary bar, a horse-shoe pit, and some of our family ancestry!

We met so many interesting characters!!! A real-life 6'7" Paul Bunyan with one leg,

a biker dude who told us tales of his tallywacker being tattooed with tweetiebird in prison (thankfully, I can not validate the truthfulness to this story),

and a dude who hid John Gotti's son in the bowling alley he worked at after he had performed his first "hit" for the mob.....

Listen! I don't make this shit up! Trust me - the truth is much more hilarious and interesting. Finally, after a 12 year old kid came in with a snake (which Kimberly and I reluctantly held thanks to liquid courage) we decided that it had gotten weird enough and we needed to find a place to make camp. And for the first time, Ty was REALLY antsy - you can tell by how his eyes are actually open for the first time after snoozing for 8 hours under our table. He just looks so disturbed and uncomfortable - like he might be ready to bite someone in a vicious mouth-foaming rage, doesn't he?

Finally! After a moon-lit camp build - we had achieved our goal! A fireside campsite so cool we needed sweatshirts and blankets! YES!!!!!!!! The sweet smell of success!!!!!!!! (Or was that Kam's gas again?)


The next morning, after another hearty, healthy breakfast - all hell broke loose. Our original "rule book" for the weekend (some scribbled writing on a crumbled up piece of paper which we taped to the interior light as a constant reminder) had gone to hell and a hand basket. The "no cell phones, no whining, no primping, no fighting...etc., etc." rules were out the window. BUSTED!!!!!!!!!

And we were all just as guilty - I snuck a call back to my house to find out there was a football party in progress I wanted to get to, Kam and I started to get at each other's throat (anyone who knows us knows that we were never meant to spend more than a day or two together! hahahahaha). Even TY had that whiney "longing for his own couch" look in his eyes.


It was time to put our Gold Medal of Finding Cool behind us and hit the road!!!!! So we packed up! Why, who is this super hero springing to action??!

It's my superbro! Kameron "If you can't tie a knot, tie a lot" Hampton! ha

As we rushed out to beat the traffic, we found ourselves immediately at a steady crawl behind a Pilgrim's Pride Chicken truck for 2 hours. Now, I'm not one to judge, but after two hours, that pilgrim started to creep me out with his sneering smirk! What a weirdo!!

Needing a break from that pilgrim's sadistic stare, we spotted a little western town off to the side of the road where we stretched our legs, met a few more wacky friends,



and Ty tried to pose as a "Wild Woman." Man, I don't know about our mascot - I think he's battling some internal demons. He just always looks so unhappy, so unfriendly...maybe we should seek some counseling for the poor pooch.

Or maybe! Just maybe....he needs a lady friend.....

Enter: CORONA - the black cockerspaniel we met at our last rest stop for a bite, break, and a beer 45 minutes from home.
Now I'm not sure if it was the lure of a cold tile floor at his own house, or the sexy, sleek, shimmery black coat of Miss Corona, but I've never seen Ty quite so perky!

OPERATION: COOL/CORONA - COMPLETE!!!!!!
Next stop on the road: The Annual Valpraiso, Indiana Popcorn Festival with my gang of merry revelers from all over the U.S.!

Somewhere along the way - I lost my ball of momentum. I am just now getting around to finishing my last post of the Barbra Streisand tour and the tour has been over for nearly three weeks now. But to my defense, I was only home for 12 hours before I got the phone call to be sent back out for two weeks to fill in for someone who left the Tim McGraw & Faith Hill tour. And now, ironically enough, I have returned to the UK to do three more shows for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. So while I've been remiss in completing the blog, I haven't exactly been sitting on my arse.
So here goes...
Look kids! It's Big Ben! Again!??

And The Parliament! Wait?! Didn't we just go through this with the Chili Peppers a few months ago? Yes, we did. But that joke never gets old to me and neither do the Vacation movies with Chevy Chase so you'll have to just skim over it! haha


Picadilly Circus! I've always heard about it, and never seen it until now - although, I'm not really sure why its called a circus since there's a distinct lack of circus-like things, i.e., animals, clowns, cotton candy, animal poop smell, etc. - well, unless you take into consideration the freakish people, insane traffic with obnoxious horn-honking and dirty pigeons shitting everywhere - I guess one could refer to that as a "circus".

Royal Arab families swimming in their own wealth, living in our hotel, taking great pleasure in gloating about their endless supply of money and the garish things they spend it on (even the wives who had to wear the full Muslim burka had their black gowns all pimped out in black sequence)....





That's right kids - We must be in the one and only: LONDON, ENGLAND! Land of $9 Starbucks Coffee, $20 greasy fish & chip dishes til you puke, and the general lack of rubbish bins (I'll explain this one later!) The final countdown to the flight home. 10 days to see if I can survive the brutal exchange rate and living expense just to break even on my paycheck.
So when you spend the previous 4 and 1/2 weeks of working, traveling, and partying yourself to the edge of existence, how can you possibly go on for another 10 days? CALL IN REINFORCEMENTS!


My dear friends Alicia and Leslie finagled their way from Indiana to London to hang out with me for a few of my many days at the Royal Garden Hotel on Kensington High.
On the day the girls arrived, I unfortunately, was down to my last pair of clean underwear, so a visit to the neighborhood laundromat was mandatory. But never to worry, there is always a neighborhood pub to pass the time waiting for clothes to dry.

Enter Jerry: Owner (and head Flirt) of the Churchill Arms Pub, two blocks from the laundromat. Ole Jerr took an instant liking to Leslie and tried to charm her by "dumping" a fake glass of Guinness on her, telling jokes, and scooping up empty pints off the table with a cane. I heard from some other friends who stopped by the pub later that Jerry kept asking about Leslie for hours, even days after our visit....I think she broke his frisky little heart. (He was quite the ladie's man, so I think he'll bounce right back in the game in no time).

With a few beers under our belts and the girls being jet lagged, I told them to be careful about looking for traffic coming from the opposite direction. I showed them the funny directions painted on the street.

And then proceeded to lead us directly into the path of a double decker bus. I'll tell you what, I'm going to leave the health and safety of the group up to Leslie - she's the Mom. Alicia and I are just going to stick to what we know best....

Now that's a worthy charitable cause! A mini-delivery truck with three wheels bringing beer to thirsty lushes all over the city in 20 minutes! After hours! Even if the bar throws you out, the party never has to end! (Aha! So that's how my European colleagues are able to drink me under the table - they've been training for the drunk olympics during hours AND after hours! hmmm...)

The next day we were off to see what we could see! After walking through a couple of "circuses" and an over-crowded toy store, we suddenly realized we had neglected the 500 meter rule! Say it ain't so! So we went to a place called the Marlborough Head. It has been rumored to be haunted. Creeeeeeeeepy.

The disappearing bathroom doors make it difficult for someone with the bladder of a 4 year old (like myself) to locate them during a beer session. The only way I could find the right door was to check the faded markings on the floor. This place was like the Adams Family house!

Well, when you start adhering to the 500 meter rule, your day goes into a rapid downward spiral. Doing anything productive seems out of the question. So we PROMISED ourselves that tomorrow (on their third day of being in London) we would actually get around to some sightseeing of the main London landmarks.
And we did! We got up early, put our horse-blinders on so as not to be distracted by any pubs along the way (until later in the afternoon, of course), and hussled to do some "hyper-sight-seeing." Like Chevy Chase in Vacation...."The Grand Canyon....great, let's go!"
Look kids! Big Ben! (tipping over?? Nope - just an optical illusion.) Great let's go!

The Parliament - snap a badly aimed self-portrait - great! Let's go!



The West Minster Abby - 20pounds to get in?!?!?!? ha! Snap a pic, let's go!

The London Eye - world's largest ferris wheel....with the world's largest line to ride it - nope! Snap a pic - Let's go!

The Tower Bridge - cool - walk across it - great let's go!


Man, we are just knocking these out one after another!! We tried to go through the London tower where the queen's jewels were stored and many past kings resided, but decided it was too late in the day since they were almost closing. So instead, you guessed it - snap a pic - let's go!
On a side note, I would like to explain the lack of rubbish bins comment from earlier. It's at about this point in the day that we have each been carrying an empty soda can for about 2 hours. We have been walking around as responsible, earth-respecting, non-littering adults with these stupid cans in tow because there is no place to dispose of them -and Leslie is such a sweet, true Mom! After I griped about it for about 20 minutes, she carried Alicia's and my can for us, just like the children that we are! And after all that, I think we finally just left them on the step of a building somewhere. So I would like to now add to my previous list (posted on the trip to London with the Peppers) of things that would make me a millionaire in England. Not only air-conditioner specialist and dentist, but now trash can manufacturer! (And laundromat owner - since those seem to be just as rare! But that's a whole other story).
Anyway, on our way back across the tower bridge (to find a pub we spotted earlier) we realized the interesting juxtaposition in the London skyline. On one side of the Thames River you have a castle that's been housing people since the 10th century...


and on the other side you have some of the most futuristic looking architecture in the world. Bizarre!




On our way through a plaza, we spotted a bunch of tribute guitars - in honor of famous British musicians. I thought I was cool when I found Ozzy's guitar....but wait! Then I found LED ZEPPELIN. My favorite band of all time! ROCK ON!!!!!!




Finally, we rewarded ourselves with our sight-seeing job well done with a beer. At a pub called "Hung, Drawn, and Quartered." So you're telling me people used to hang out in the town center just to see people hang?! And be quartered?!?!? (Not sure what drawn is, but I'm guessing it's not sitting on a milk crate on a sidewalk somewhere so that some guy who stinks and speaks an unidentifiable language can sketch you into a cartoon, right?) Anyway, people think our society is messed up now, but that's some crazy violent shit they used to do back then!

This noose was hanging right over the bar...I guess to deter from rowdy pub behavior or non-tippers!?

And since the rest of our Purdue/Illinois friends couldn't make it, Alicia brought along a picture of them so that they could have a beer with us in London! (We're so weird! But funny! Man, are we funny!)

Speaking of funny, I thought this quote on the wall was hilarious.....

And you know my fascination with toilets would catch up with me eventually...check out the old-fashioned pull chain!


The next night was our 2nd of 3 shows at the new O2 arena - another wacky-architecture-alien-like building.

Both Leslie and Alicia would never admit it openly, but between you and me, they are die-hard Barbra Streisand fanatics. I mean karaoke-singing, album carrying, founding members of her fan club. Well, I have to respect such devoted enthusiasm so I just had to get them into the show somehow.
Okay, really, they just wanted to see if any famous people were there. Since I had seen Jackie Collins, Donna Karan, and Brian Adams at the Wednesday night show, we knew there would be more at the Sunday show...and we were right! We spotted Dan Akroyd, John Lithgow, Nicholas Cage, and then, when we were walking backstage during the intermission -we almost walked smack into Peirce Brosnin. Holy canoli is he a hot man!!!!!!! After we were done giggling and drooling all over ourselves, the rest of the show was a blur. And speaking of blur, that night was also our end of tour party! These are usually just an excuse to get rip-roaringly drunk on the rich ass artist's dime. That being said, usually people who don't drink much (the socially inept orchestra folk) proceed to get arse-over-tit wankered (to use some fun british slang). Which, of course, always leads to good photo-ops...



Oh snaps! Who are these crazy fools?


Awwww......poor Jerry made a sad face when I told him my fun girls had to leave the next morning to go back to Indiana.

And off they went.


Now judging by the bluriness of this picture from the night before, and by the way I felt at noon when I woke up - these girls performed nothing short of a miracle by getting up and getting to the airport at the butt crack of dawn.
All of a sudden, at 4:30 p.m., there is a knock at my hotel door. A very distraught and disheveled Alicia is standing before me. She waited at the airport all day in hopes of making it on her stand-by ticket like Leslie did, but all the flights were overbooked. So, I told her not to worry, and off we went for dinner and then to meet up with some of my guys at a Cuban restaurant for mojitos! I couldn't let Alicia escape before performing her rendition of the 50 year old lady on Saturday night live..."I can kick! I can stretch! And I'm 50!!! And I love it I love it I love it I love it I love it..."

The next day she tried to catch a flight again. A few hours later....knock knock. So I said, don't worry babe! Tomorrow will work for sure! (Doubtful, but I was trying to stay positive). And off we went to, where else, a Japanese restaurant.

The next day, another try....then: knock knock sniffle knock. Now we are starting to get into panic mode. I only have one more day left and if I have to leave the country and leave her all by herself in England with nowhere to go - I'm going to be sick to my stomach. Maybe we can just buy a one-way ticket for her......$1000.00 Ouch. I don't think so. Guess we'll have to just wait it out and hope for the best.
The next day - again - no luck. Holy crap!
London callin...(collect this time).

Poor Alicia was running out of patience and moolah...the train to and from the aiport was costing her over $60/day! Not to mention our evenings out to "calm our nerves" while trying to mastermind a back-up plan for which there was no back-up.
Finally on Thursday, the same day I leave and four days after she was supposed to have left, she made it on a plane! WWWHHHEEEEEWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!! Disaster averted.
Well, I know that the girls will never forget this trip - if not for the fun we had, for Alicia's brush with abandonment in a foreign country!
I will now wrap up the BABS tour blog with one final wacky something. The urinals in the men's bathroom at the end of tour party. Don't ask what I was doing in there - just laugh at the pictures with me.


Now how in the hell am I supposed to comment on that? Wow. I guess I'll just leave that to your filthy mind. haha

Anyway - thanks for tuning into another wild and wacky tour. Who would have ever thought that working for Barbra Streisand would have been that much fun. I guess our all-out race for inebriation helped ease the pain of the rain on our parade. Get it? That's one of her songs. And it's painful. And it rained on us a lot. hahahaha Funny, I tell you. A real gut-busting knee-slapper.

Well - I won't have any storytelling to do for a few weeks as I sold my camera to Darin before I left and I'm only in the UK for a blink with the Peppers. But, coming up next.......the Diva Tour round 2! Guess who? Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony. Oh the stories I'll tell..........