JOB FOR A COWBOY’S JONNY DAVY’S METALSUCKS TOUR BLOG #2
We recently asked Job for a Cowboy vocalist Jonny Davy to write a tour blog for the band’s MetalSucks co-sponsored headlining trek with Hate Eternal, All Shall Perish, Animosity and Annotations of an Autopsy. Davy’s second entry is below; in case ya missed it, you can read the first edition here. Enjoy!
Theres that cute little hillbilly everyone loves.
I’m sorry that all my stories have to deal with being drunk. Our current sound guy is a little hillbilly. He obsessively talks about guns, hunting and fishing. He sleeps in the middle of the woods down south. Litterally. He jumps on a boat, smokes pot and goes fishing for 10 hours a day every weekend. He sits at home and guts the animals he’s hunt and shot down while drinking moonshine. Literrally. He introduced us to Wild Turkey 101. A bourbon with one hell of a powerful kick as it washes down your throat. Its already made Jack Daniels, Jameson and Jim Bean taste like mere diet soda. Well, about a week ago we were hopped up on the damned thing. Burping up flavors Turkey whiskey and stumbling around in our hotel room. Brent was drunk, he ended up attempting to make coffee through the toaster, which inevidably made the toaster short circuit and break. Charn, our drummer decided to throw a flower pot down the hallway and break the TV remote. Which is already annoying. Then, Bobby attempted to call for some late night Dominos pizza. They were closed, he broke the phone in anger. Our tour manager then spent the entire morning trying to wake us up by calling the hotel phone… which was obviously broken.
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You’re going to learn that urine is oftenly used in touring stories. The common male while intoxicated just tends to piss wherever the hell he wants with no questions asked. The other night Bobby, our guitar player decided to sneakily piss inbetween our van and trailer. Well, we tend to leave all of our bags and personal belongings in the back door of the van. Its packed as fuck! Usually 90% of the time you open it everything tends to slip, fall and crash to the ground. Well, it was dark, didn’t notice I was standing in a puddle of urine and I opened the back door to grab something of mine. Of course, like clockwork everyones things crashed to the ground and splattered urine all over my legs and everyones items began to soak up the bright yellow piss. Thanks Bobby, you mother fucker. I picked up the mess irritated and threw everything back inside the back door. Still didn’t tell anyone, fuck em’!
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Not to far back on the tour, on another freezing cold day where you can watch your breath trail from your mouth in tiny clouds. Annotations of an Autopsy, Animosity and ourselves decided to rage out together at the same hotel. After the consumption of wine, beer, vodka and whiskey things got a little weird. Reasonable I suppose… Arguements broke out and maybe even a few fists flew, the night was just really cloudy and my memory on everything is vague. Leo, the singer of Animosity may have a drank a little more than his body could chew. The breaking point was when Leo opened the window and urinated from the 3ed floor of a creeping motel room. As his urine dropped to the ground at 1am it almost nailed an innocent by-standard. Freaked by his near golden shower the man decided to call the police. We scattered, the cops arrived and to sum it up Animosity got Annotations of an Autopsy kicked out of their room for the night. The bathroom was of course open for Leo, and of course it was only about 10 feet away aswell. Those Brittish fucks got screwed! So, they ended up sleeping in their van that cold evening while Animosty slept comfortably in their warm hotel beds.
the horror….
Today Frank, the drunken lead guitar player of Animosity, went out to a Gun Expo. No, thankfully the young man didn’t buy a gun, however, he did buy a machete that was about 9 inches long and 4 to 5 inches wide. Its honestly a beauty, shiny and razor sharp, perfect for cutting shrubs or gutting bodies. It rests on the side of his leg tucked and strapped away gently in a holster. This makes today partly cloudy with strong winds of misfortune, fear and anxiety. I’ve on the often occasion heard him yell out death threats that murmer out of his alcohol ridden breath. So thanks Animosty, you’re all doomed and I’m hiding out for the rest of the tour. That mother fucker is going to kill all of us one of these days. Fuckers.
-JD
