San Diego III

December 26, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ 4 Comments

So we have a Myspace page, yeah. Facebook, Twitter, sure.
All that crap.

I’m sure in a few months we’ll have some goddamn Iphone app that lets you match CH3 drink for drink on any given night on tour. You know, so you can stay in sync with your favorite band member!

Ventura3 — *chime* Anthony Thompson alert *chime* *now drink 24 ounces of Pabst Blue Ribbon and insult a celebrity*.

Gotta keep up with times, ya know! In theory, all these delicious tools are there to help us promote the band, spread the word. It’s a new day when all you have to do is digitally cut and paste up a flyer, photobucket it, and send it out enmasse to everyone within a 75 mile radius of the show zip code.

Personally, I miss the day of scissor and glue, the trip to Kinko’s in the middle of the night.
The stacks of flyers hand delivered to Zed’s, only to be quickly tossed in the trash by the China White guys when they followed us in with their flyers…..

sin34ch3 — Selling for 15 bucks on ebay..and to think we used to wipe with these things!

But most of the time, these various web sites seem to be there solely to allow young bands to contact us, pleading to get on a show. It’s tough, hell yeah! We rarely have any say in the lineup, but was it really that long ago when we had to kiss ass to get that opening slot on a thursday night?
Eh, guess it was.

3Godfather — ...and this we vow, *Commandatore'* We will bring in 45 people and let all the bands use our drumset!

After the Black Flag gig, things started to fall into place for the band. In an early interview with No Mag, Henry put us in his list of top 5 acts (when we played good). I think he changed his opinion a few months later when he had to step over my drunken body onstage at the Minutemen compound in San Pedro. Heh….nice shoes, Hank!

We were getting some good words written about the ep, the cool kids started coming around to the shows, and Robbie called one fateful day and told us it was time to come back to the studio and record the full length follow up!

channel 3 — The gun, the hands, the cheesy font--and yet it all works!

But best of all, we were getting called all the time to be on these shows. Amazing gigs–the first closing of Al’s Bar with Circle Jerks. Huge daytime fests at the Olympic Auditorium…..A gig with Fear!
And an actual concert, I guess you would call it-with security guards and a huge stage-opening for the Professionals!

Professionals2 — I guess a couple of these guys were in a band before, am I right?

I know now we were experiencing that zone of popularity, when the thing is no longer in your hands. We were as baffled as the other local bands were jealous of our fortune. It seemed like every time Kimm came to practice he had another gig set up, playing with one of our heroes, or I would answer the phone and what? It’s Craig Lee on the line, and he wants a quote for Thursday’s LA Weekly!
It was a nice ride, and we don’t hold our breath that this train will come back any time soon to pick us up again…..

One day Kimm came into the garage, jotting something down in the little planner he always held, the days’ answer to the Blackberry. Larry and I were already in there with Burton, trying to play Temples of Syrinx. Kimm looks up, puts hands to ears, arches eyebrows in question. “What the fuck was that?” says he when we cut it out in mid We are the Priests!

“That, my friend, was a lil something by a band called Rush.”
“Rush. Oh my God. That was not Rush.”

Burton immediately goes into some Neil Peart solo, about the only thing he really practiced. Fuckin drummers. Not like we had any songs of our own we needed to work on, wot? Kimm and I had to continue our conversation over the P.A., shouting over the ridiculous drum fills.

“TOLD YOU. RUSH. WHAT’S UP DID JAY CALL?”
“NAH. HEY ARE WE ALL FREE ON THE 12TH? BURTON SHUT UP! FUCK! Okay, we good on the 12th? It’s a Friday.”
I look around the garage, Larry nods, Burton shrugs. Burton had brought a huge Iron Maiden poster to staple up behind his set.

I looked at Eddie, he seemed fine.

“Yeah, we’re good, what it be?”

Kimm grinned, made us wait a moment, and I knew it was something good.
“Get this–San Diego, the California Theatre….With. The. Cramps!”

Oh man.

Larry: Cramps!
Me: Fuck Yeah!
Burton: Which ones are the Cramps?

This is what I was talking about. These shows seemingly appeared out of thin air. And before you know it, we’re sharing a dressing room with a band that we were covering-badly-just a few months earlier in the garage.

“Fuckin Awesome Kimm..when is it again?”
“12th. Friday. I’ll confirm tomorrow.”
“Whew. Cramps. Really? We should practice huh?”

Kimm strapped on the Red Ibanez Destroyer and tuned up.
“Alright then gentlemen. Shall we?”

garage (3) — Forever geeks at heart.....

“And the Meek shall inherit the earth….1-2-3-4!”

Click to hear the Temple of Syrinx suite from 2112!

Our Last Gig: Las Vegas

November 13, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ Leave a comment

Texas-Station-Hotel-Sign — No, we didn't make it on the marquee. We did, however, urinate beneath it's sublime neon glow---so we got that goin for us!

Rolled into Vegas around sundown, or I should say rolled past Vegas! Texas Station is located way North of town, right between the What the Hell? and Where the Fuck Are We? highways….

vegas 001 — Kimm checks in. What a world, when yer 3rd billed under Bingo!

Loaded into the South Padre lounge and then immediately headed to the all you can eat buffet:

texas station-feast buffet 002 — The Feast Around the World. Tomorrow: the Loose Bowel Movements Around Interstate 15

Tell me: What makes us eat like ravenous kennel dogs when we are unleashed upon an open buffet?
I mean, at home you probably wouldn’t consider a weekday dinner consisiting of menudo, baklava, pasta puttanesca, sushi and crawfish etoufee—would you?

Oh sure, you try to start off sensibly. You have a simple entree, maybe a few crunchy appetizers…

vegas 011 — Spaghetti. Meatballs. Fried Shrimp. Crab Cake.

…but, what’s that? TBone found some Cajun food over in the corner next to the frosty machines!

vegas 008 — Gumbo. Jambalaya. Dirty Rice.

And, huh? Seafood?!–oh, right, it’s Friday! The chilled seafood bar is in full swing, and though I would usually question the wisdom of eating raw oysters that have been sitting in the bacteria biodome that is a las vegas casino, it seems naturally fine tonight! Did I mention we’ve been drinking?

Things begin to blur at this point. Not even hungry, we eye the plates of the people who have just returned from the buffet, only to bolt out of our chairs and head back to the food! Wait’ll the fellas get a load of this plate!!

Things have gotten silly now. Nationalities and flavors, entrees and desserts—they have all begun to melt together in our contest of culinary one-upmanship!….

vegas 005 — Collard Greens, Chow Mein. Bean Salad.

Thankfully, we slow down, and eventually stop eating altogether. We come together in silence as we behold the mesmerizing sight of Tbone tackling an endless supply of crab legs!

vegas 013 — TBone tries the utensils provided to extract the crabby goodness.....

vegas 010 — ...only to abandon the tools and use the mouthful of weapons the good Lord blessed him with....

vegas 009 — ...urp? Bird gets a little ahead of himself and swallows a oyster shell sideways.

Then we played the show.
*
*
*
*
Saturday: Up and at em, down to the casino floor for load out and a lil video poker!

vegas 014 — 10am, back at the bar, and the fellas are hungry for breakfast!

vegas 016 — Bloody Mary? check. Coors Light? check. Fatburger with fried egg? Oh hell yes!

vegas 015 — Tomorrow we start the diet my little monkeys--but for now, *mangia, mangia*!!

Alright then, great roadtrip, guys!

Again: Our Last Gig: Las Vegas

November 13, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ Leave a comment

Wha? Christ Almighty, what’s with all the complaints about our recent gig coverage? Apparently, some of you people don;t care about our culinary exploits and want to hear about, what? Actual gig news??
We go out of our way to spread the mighty CH3 seed throughout this great Nation, and then we come home and bring you all the details of our travels–and it’s still not enough?!

We’ve received hundreds of emails demanding actual proof that we really played in Las Vegas, as well as a dozen marriage proposals for Tbone.

What? You can’t trust us? It should be enough for your old buddies here at the CH3 information desk to tell you we went out and played a show.
Frankly, I find it a little insulting that you would demand photographic proof that we actually made it to the stage and played a gig.

Besides, we lost the camera.
And by lost the camera, I don’t mean misplaced it in the casino. No, we ran out of chips to split the Aces with fifty in the hole, so we put the digital down as a marker.

I really hope a one Miss Candace Petersson, StationCasino employee#4516b, hometown Akron Ohio, enjoys the Cannon D1400 Sure Shot. Bitch.

mindplay_1 — Knock yourself out, Sister--I hope you enjoy all the GG Elvis pix that are still on the memory chip!

Thank God our old pals at Big Wheel Mag were on hand to record the festivities!

Vegasmk — A combined age of 97 years on this Earth....!!

vegaskm — Birthday Boy Kimm tries to stand upright and play a guitar at the same time: *But it's so Goddamn easy when yer sober*!!

vegasant — Let's see: All you can eat crablegs+nine beers+a warm shot of Patron. Oh yeah, I gotta remember this combination!

vegasalf — *Let's speed things up, bitches! The blackjack tables are callin to me*!

vegasm — In my sleep, I tells ya! That's how long I've been playing these same fuckin songs!

(Happy? Check out Big Wheel Magazine for all your news and gig updates, and leave us alone, Goddamnit!)

Gamblin’ Time!

November 4, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ 1 Comment

CH3 in a casino lounge...I bet ya never saw this coming! — Kimm's birthday, a CH3 gig, and Las Vegas...sounds like a peaceful weekend to me!

So the road show rolls into a nutty little town we like to call Las Vegas this weekend, eh?

When you’ve been around as long as yer ol pals in CH3, you develop a certain history with the cities you visit on a periodic basis.
Yeh, we’ve seen this burg grow from a classless little hick hole to the classless monument to excess that it is today!

And don’t give me that crap about the Wynn art collection or Tommy Keller’s slop houses raising the cultural bar!
Listen, if I’m gonna drop three hundred goddamn dollars at Bouchon or Nobu, it’s not gonna be in a place where I have to look at a faded cougar on an oxygen tank play penny slots, Brother!

RF5469000 — Sure, keep goin' Ma! The kids back home in the holler don't need no shoes this winter!

Besides, you wanna talk about fine dining when any sane man is gonna stroll down the strip for a 99 cent half pound dog at Slots of Fun??!

dog — Ya know what would hit the spot after this? I'm thinkin 25 cent shrimp cocktail and a Heimlich maneuver!

Over the years, we’ve done Vegas a hundred different times and a hundred different ways. From the Bellagio waterfront suites to sleeping it off in the downtown parking garage, this town has always welcomed us with open arms and then kicked our asses back down Interstate 15.

But there’s always been one constant: Yeah, you got it–Gambling!

Nashville_Sevens_Slots — Ah, hell yeah! Tell Alf he doesn't have to pass out the whore flyers on the Strip any more!

What is it about gambling that sets the blood to boil, hmm?

Is it the thrill of risking what you really can’t afford to lose?
The chance—ever so slight!–of winning?

Actually winning— now there’s a concept!

To receive unearned monies, dropped down upon your grateful open palm like a feather. A reluctant gift from the last sad bird of an exotic and now extinct species?

6a00d834a72ef569e200e54f65e03d8833-800wi — Your reward in chips: the reduction of familiar monetary values to meaningless tokens. *Kinda like buying a Youth Brigade T shirt*!

Nah. We simply gamble for the free booze and this simple fact: They let ya get away with murder if yer gambling!!

I mean really, where else can you stumble through a ritzy lobby (or ride a wheelchair *ahem*), a smelly cigar on your lip and all your junk hanging out of your vomit-crusted trousers without getting kicked out on your ass? Just drop a coin in the video poker and they’ll bring you a bloody mary and a Keno card!!!

casino — Keep yer eye on the tall Jap with the two wetbacks....
either they're counting cards or they're too drunk to count to 21!

It’s the spirit of Las Vegas that we love, that sleazy independence that has survived through shitty lounge acts and white tigers!
Come join your buddies out in the desert, won’t ya?-and give Kimm a kiss for luck.

(Need more push? Click the goddamn arrow below and listen to the coins clatter into the tray—it’s the sound of a million lucky angels with prosthetic wings, baby!!!)

Gamblin’ Time

Didn’t I learn a goddamn thing
Is it only half way through Lent?
This hundred bucks is getting awfully warm
And it ain’t going to the rent

I want a chance at something more
Or something different at least
Gimme a shot, a shot at hope
To get me through one more week

Is it wrong to use that cash
Well, her teeth are really pretty straight
Over under’s at fifty four
That one dude’s groin is strained

All I know about myself is nothing’s never enough
Screw the payment on the truck and the rest of that boring stuff
It’s gamblin’ time

In Sam’s Town I double down
The bitch held back my King

The frickin’ horse dropped down in class
She didn’t learn a goddamn thing

I dream of jet black roulette wheels on a velvet ocean of green
I hold the dice like wounded birds and then I set them free

Ode to Fall

October 12, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ Leave a comment

Ah, Autumn! What is it about this time of year that makes us reflect on our lives?

Is it the gentle cooling of the Earth, gradually bringing our toasted synapses back onto the level playing field?
The changing folliage-yes, even here in Southern California!– reminding us of mortality’s ever vigilant watch on our fragile existence?

Photoshopped palm trees lining the greenbelt, Seal Beach ca — Photoshopped palm trees lining the greenbelt, Seal Beach CA

A man reverts back to his primal mammalian urges, seeking the comfort of warmth and family, fattening up for a hibernatory season.
It is time for cozy board games by the fire and the long patient stewing of thrifty cuts of beef!

psst--hey Dad, if you move green to sector H4, we can crush mom's spirit forever! — *psst--hey Dad, if you move green to sector H4, we can crush mom's spirit forever*!

Fall is the season that ushers in our birthday season and the deliciously hectic swirl of holiday parties. Benefit shows and chilly dark nights on the road– visions of ominous brown liquids poured tall into buckets.

This? Shucks, we just call that the lemonade of the Autumnal Equinox, people! — This? Shucks, we just call this the lemonade of the Autumnal Equinox, people!

Wicked hangovers that are endured only by fried egg sandwiches and Advil, eased by the mercifully short days that melt into yet another chilly night.
The chance to wear that smart tweed blazer you bought so long ago–July, wasn’t it?–on a drunken thrift store jag on Haight…..

And here at CH3 basecamp, we prepare for the next campaign after a well deserved Indian Summer’s sabatical.

absent from the tabloid pages since Summer, the fellas resurface briefly at the recent Emmy awards..... — *...absent from the tabloid pages since Summer, the fellas resurface briefly at the recent Emmy awards*.....

So let’s take a look at the upcoming social calendar, shall we? And we’ll brave the oncoming Beast of Darkness together!!

First show after a long layoff--lyrics are forgotten, fingers bleed...Alf shows up at the wrong club!

Record release party--Come help us christen the new baby! We're thinking of leaving the foreskin on this time...

Come on out and join yer pals won’t ya? Cheers-M

You Lie!

September 10, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ 1 Comment

Well, the fellas at CH3 Mission Control were all in a tizzy when they called me on the landline. Seems a tremendous overnight spike in Channel 3 Itunes activity crashed the entire Apple system, caused by ravenous purchases of the old track You Lie!

...we can't explain it, Sir! Also, we've been selling an unusual amount of Got A Gun XXL tees in Chino Hills!!

Apparently, the overnight downloads of that track funneled enough monies into Posh Boy’s pockets that he is currently in the market for a new villa in Bordeaux.

Wha? Well, a quick log onto the Huffington Post confirmed our suspicions…that scamp Joe Wilson was up to his old tricks!
Apparently, he tried to get a pit going last night during the Healthcare Reform speech by yelling You Lie!!, and then jumping off the Congressional bannister, knocking a beer out of the hand of Representative David Price (D – NC, 4th District).

I just want some Skank! I just want some Skank! — *I just want some Skank! I just want some Skank*!

Heh–fuckin Joe! We remember when he used to hang out with his crew at the Galaxy Theatre and yell shit at us from the pit…but when ya called him out on it?
Silence.
Some things never change!

Who the fuck said that, huh?! Yeh, that's what I thought.....

And now, like clockwork, comes the official apology from Wilson’s office:
“This evening I let my emotions get the best of me when listening to the President’s remarks regarding the coverage of illegal immigrants in the health care bill. While I disagree with the President’s statement, my comments were inappropriate and regrettable. I extend sincere apologies to the President for this lack of civility.”

Oh brother. Apparently even the Republicans are condemning the outbust now too.

Yeh, that’s because the Rebuplicans were salivating over Obama’s lowest approval ratings in months due to the Heathcare issues, and then Wilson decides to get all drunk before the gig and ruin it for everyone!!

Whatever. At least it got a little TMZ-style attention to the issue at hand.

And while we applaud Obama’s tackling of the Healthcare issues, just don’t get us started!
It’s well known that CH3 has been championing total Health Service overhaul since the early 80’s, when we proposed going back to a basic Commodities-based valuation of the Nation’s Healthcare.

In other words, a case of Syphyllis is gonna cost ya a basket of eggs, breast enlargement one veal calf..etc!!

Yes, one vasectomy and and Coronary Artery Bypass Graft for the goat, if you please! — *Yes, we have goat....one vasectomy and and Coronary Artery Bypass Graft, if you please*!

Listen, if Joe wanted to man up and take on the Prez, you don’t just namecheck your favorite CH3 song and then go hide by the chicks’ bathrooms! You gotta go for the stage dive like those nutty punkers over in South Korean Paliament, am I right?

Then they really get things boiling in the pit!!

Gaaa! I lost my shoe!! — *Gaaa! I lost my shoe*!!

Click the shiny arrow to hear You Lie by CH3!!

Attn: All Employees Re:Warped Tour

August 30, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ Leave a comment

Companywide memo to:
All personnel at the CH3 home office.

Hello staff! Before we begin today’s briefing, a quick attaboy to Phil in accounting, who recently celebrated his 45th year with the organization–way to go Phil. Also, Shelia in HR gave birth to a beautiful 8 pound boy last Wednesday.

Way to go, guys! Now get back to your fuckin cubicles!!

As you all know, our next sales campaign will be the Warped Tour, also known as The Van’s Warped Tour, Presented by Monster Energy Drinks and Remax Real Estate Services. We will be sending out the CH3 road team on these final dates.

Due to the complaints regarding the travel arrangements for the recent European campaign, we have decided to upgrade to a larger vehicle for this week. The vehicle will be outfitted accordingly for the 5 day journey.

The 2009 Sprinter van seats 12, has full air conditioning and internet access, and has both Xbox and DVD player. The following motion picture titles will not be allowed in the vehicle: Any recent Hollywood title containing the words Star, Galactica, Destination, Lord, or Rings. Also, please do not (Alf) bring along any Porn with the words Bone, Gusta or Chupa in the title.

At this time, approved titles for viewing during transport:
Elvis ’68 Comeback Special; Elvis ’68 Comeback Special Limited Edition; Raging Bull.
elvis

Travel Day is Wednesday, Aug 20. The satelllite facility will be leaving the Long Beach office approximately 2pm.

Update: Due to dental complications, Ricardo Martinez will not be going on this journey. Filling in as company liason will be Erik “T Bone” Petersson. Do not-repeat-DO NOT reply to this memo with your complaints. This personnel change has already been approved and Erik has promised to keep his shirt buttoned for the majority of the work day.

Travel time will be approximately 5 hours to the Mountainview area. Rooms have been reserved at the Pacific Inn.

Hey--there's a fuckin jacuzzi in here! Come join me Tbone!! — Hey--there's a fuckin jacuzzi in here! Who wants to soak with Tbone?!

Dinner vouchers are good for the local Chevy’s restaurant. Once again: Do not attempt to exchange the vouchers for cannisters of nitrous oxide or sexual favors.

We will be giving away a beautiful set of Mont Blanc pens to any personnel that can guess the number of pork rinds in the jug. Please submit your guess to the box in the east cafeteria, only one guess per day please.

Okay team, that’s it for the day. We will be keeping everyone up to date on the daily statistics of the tour, please monitor your workstations often. As always, have a CH3 day!

Warped Mountainview

August 29, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ Leave a comment

Gaaa! Put that fuckin thing away Tbone! — *Gaaa! Put that fuckin thing away Tbone*!

Heh–sorry about ruining your breakfast–just want yall to see what we’re living with out here in the wilds of Warp!

Alright then, up and at em at the luxurious Pacific Inn Motel (Laundry at the far south east corner of the parking lot, 1.25 per load) iced down the beverages and a short hop over to the Mountainview ampitheatre thingy. Met up with some great fans at the old school stage…..

Finally--the fans are appreciating the classics!!

We got a decent 1:45 time slot, leaving plenty of time to socialize after:

Thelonius Bob....he gets a free toaster if he gets Kimm into rehab!!

Despite the gremlins invading the amplifiers, had a fun set–it’s kinda like playing a lunchtime assembly at the local Junior High:
DSCN1669
DSCN1671

DSCN1693
DSCN1694

And then? Onto dinner of course-queued up with the denizens and had a surprisingly lovely New york Strip with Blue Cheese topping….

Bus call at sundown and how does the night end? Oh, probably like your Thurday evening, really. TBone in a wrestling mask, drinking from a gallon of Jack—

do you see? We’re really not that different after all…..

Warped Marysville

August 28, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ Leave a comment

Arrr---give up hope, all ye who enter Punk Rock Island!!!!

Ooofah–hot—hot!!

It was a day when we punk dinosaurs shoulda been home nesting in the cool den, catching up on some knitting and daytime soaps.

But no.

Shout out to Posh Boy from Kimm and Charlie Harper

Someone thought it would be hilarious to put on a punk show in the stifling heat—the fellas were prepared for it though, and the show went on!

DSCN1724
DSCN1725
DSCN1731

We were hoarse from nagging the kids to hydrate and put on sunblock all day, but it all worked out just fine. The crews were loose and ready for the ten hour drive to San Diego….

Ten hours fly by when ya got internet porn!

But first more of the catching up with the punk rock high school reunion and a lil late lunch, yeah?

Fat Mike with Old Mike, Kimm Mike and Alf Mike

Pete Adict cuts in line for chow...but what a hat, mate!

Back in the van and onto San Diego now-cheers-M

Warped San Diego

August 27, 2009 ~ CH3 ~ 1 Comment

After the blast furnace fun of Marysville it was time to load it and hit it….

Pete tries to hop in big black--but ya got a keg on your bus, mate!! — Pete tries to hop in big black--*but ya got a keg on your bus, mate*!!

Overnighter drive to SD comin up! First had to provision the wagon for the road:

Oh shit, we're running low on the rinds, fellas!

Gas station freezer fun:

Leave me! So cold....so very cold...! — *Leave me! So cold....so very cold*...!

The drive was a breeze…..A delirious, hellish breeze. Drifting in and out of sleep to the Elvis Comeback Special, at one point we woke from our slumber to find these nifty cow glasses of Jack in our hands.

Lab tests confirmed our suspicions: Lead paint makes the whiskey extra delicious!

Alright, one more shot of the T Belly--but that's it!

Got to Chula Vista at 4:30am, up and at the van by 8:30am–I’m no math wizard, but I’m thinkin we didn’t get our full 8 of beauty sleep, yeah?

PJ's and overalls---if that ain't punk I give up, brother!

Over to Cricket Wireless Ampitheatre and immediately to the lunch line.

What? Ya think there was gonna be a whole post without the money shot?

We got the drill down now—check in, be first in line for chow, make fun of the screamo tantrum dancers, then suit up for stage:

Great show in San Diego–thanks kids!

Goddamnit! Nobody told me it was casual day at work!!

Our shared DOA/UK Subs/CH3 merch table is looking awesome by now–the rest of these bands have the custom screened tents from the record company,
nfg

but fuck that mang! This is the old school!

We don't need no stinkin custom merch booth!

Back to the van for the easy ride home. Well, as soon as we kicked the little groms off the entertainment console and plugged in Elvis again…..

A short hop up the 5 for a familiar bed and onto Carson tomorrow!