Note: Before you read this blog full of plot holes, spelling mistakes, and grammar errors, realize I'm smiling my ass off because I had an awesome time this weekend and that I'm typing in bed next my sleeping woman bootyass nekkid barely covered by a grocery store fleece blanket.

It was an interesting weekend for ALL The Fat Dukes of Fuck to say the least!
We had two shows booked, one at Boomers (the LAST show we'll play at Boomers) and the other at a house party in Riverside, Ca.

Our buddy Mr. Plow from Canada was coming through so we traded gigs. A show in Las Vegas for a show at his next stop in california.

My girl sprained her ankle sat after slamming the door and running out in a huff due to an argument between her and I. I'm going to say I won the argument due to injury! At the time I wasn't sure I'd be able to make either show because we thought she actually had broken it!

The other two Dukes were already at Boomers unloading our gear when I called from the waiting room of Fremont Medical center. Beaver!! Naturaly they wanted me to try to make it because there were three people there to see us play. I said I'd do my best. Luckily Fremont Medical is a well lubed opperation and got us in to see the doc quickly. Before I knew it we were on our way to Walgreen's with a large bill, a pair of chinese made crutches, and two prescriptions (one of which I plan to usurp).

I was able to get my girl set up at home AND make it to Boomer's in time to catch Mr. Plow's set.
Mr. Plow now has a person folloing him around with a HD camcorder making a documentary. 
Mr. Plow's set was great even though there were not enough dipshits shouting stupid shit for him to spar with.
Our set was sweet! Most likely due to the fact that I didn't have time to drink my usual 20 pregame Newcastles. I'm fat!
A nice vegan man bought us a round to drink whilst we packed our shit. He informed me that Newcastle was like a liquid porkchop.
We loaded up the trailer and went our seperate ways to get some sleep before the drive to California.
It was about six a.m. when I suggested to my girl that we just go because neither of us could sleep. I packed up the Monte Carlo topped off the cat's food and water and we hit the 15 south.
Excuse me a sec. I'll be right back.
Ok I'm back.
With the exception of my girl's discomfort the drive was pleasantly uneventful and we made it to Pomona in three and a half hours on the dot.
The show was moved to a bar called Characters in Pomona. At the time I already knew I just didn't feel like saying it 'til now.
We had to wait an hour for our room at the Motel 6. I was pretty beat by then and needed to get a meganap in before the rest of the "band" arrived.
Turns out I had plenty of time because the others had a rocky start and hit some heavy traffic on the way.
Shitwizard's familiar ringtone woke me up around 4pm so my beloved and I got cleaned up and made our way to Characters.
The show was set up on a covered patio on the side of the bar. We got there just in time to catch Mr. Plow. It was my girl's first time seeing him and it was the perfect show for her first with plenty of loudmouthed bikers and immature punks to flex his acerbic wit upon.
There was a very nice breeze as well.
While we were plugging in our cables the biker dudes were on their way out and one of them hit our trailer. I didn't see it but I hear it was hilarious!
The Fat set of Fuck went great! Ronnie and I improvised alot and Shitwizard was like a cat, you know, climbing to the top of shit without any idea how to get down. The audience was confused but polite none the less, and no one bitched about the volume! Pretty good for our first gig outside of Las Vegas.
Once again we loaded up the trailer and slurped up anything with alchohol in it we could find.
We did a interview for Mr. Plow's documentary in which Shitwizard claimed to have murdered him and Ronnie and I drank the Budwiser Shitwizard snuck outside and rambled on about Pomona having more vaginas than teeth.
Things start to get a little hazy from here on. I do remember being at a Buffalo Wild Wings and Ronnie giving hi fives to a enthusiastic toddler.
I came too in the backseat of Shitwizard's Cherokee with everybody screaming at me like we wrecked. It didn't scare me like they hoped. We were back at the Motel 6. My girl and I made our way back to the room and crashed.
The weird thing is that this was all before midnight! Here in Las Vegas we don't even start before 12:30!
The only excitment on the way home was missing the exit to the Mad Greek Cafe the first time and sharing a waterfall urinal with a frenchman with a "not good prostate".
All in all it was a good trip. Fun, and my lady was a real trooper with the sprained ankle and all.
I'm looking forward to San Diego!
Love,
Ice Pube