I sneak away when no one is looking and buy a bag of cheese curds, that rarest of rare commodity on the prairies but so common in Montreal that you can find them in pretty much any depanneur. Since my body has declared itself to be more or less anti-dairy I tell it that I'm only going to have a couple and save the rest for later. Before i realize what's happened I've ravaged through three bags of curds and eaten a giant poutine. Massive fail. The feeling that follows is what I imagine taking psychedelic drugs with Atavan while wearing a clown mask and staring into a mirror would be like. The rest of the band asks me why I'm acting like I'm on drugs and then gets very angry and starts shaking me as they demand to know how much cheese I've taken. Sigh. Luckily last night most of the sickness wore off before we played.
And the show was great! It was at Zoo Bizarre, which resembles a small, pleasant bat cave. We played with Pattern Is Movement from Philadelphia who were fantastic and very nice fellows. They couldn't believe that we came from a city that sounded so much like, well you know...
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