DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #59 - green river

So, the Phellus in Chains road gang stopped somewhere along the way to Denver, in a town called Green River. The only 'Green River' I've ever heard about is the Seattleite band, so I think that our improvised stop here was a tribute to the mighty Stone Gossard: ex member of Green River, man of smooth words and decent ways, Cuntrell's #2 enemy after me... and obviously, Bessie's new romantic interest. Cuntrell hates me because I've tried to talk Bessie into giving Stone boy a chance, and the pro-Gossard pep talking is apparently the reason why I deserve insults and comments about my physical shape and about my overall appearance, approximately every five minutes. I am still wounded by his hateful spree, still hungry as fuck because he's given me the food block, and I can't eat to save my life... but I've tried not to mind his annoying nagging, aaaall the way to Green River.

It's been a ride. It's literally been one hell of a ride to get there. Although Sean and I travelled separately from the rest of the band, with them on the tour bus and us on our respective bikes ... Gerry flipped the bird at me multiple times, through the tour bus window, and laughed at me like a stinking five year old who's just snitched you in front of the substitute teacher would do. Pathetic. I didn't mind his childish shit, I just tried to look at the road ahead of me, and not to mind the fact that Gerry was staring at my ass big time, when he wasn't insulting me. I think he was wishing me and my buttocks death, but unfortunately for him, Cherry is still alive and kicking. Kicking him in the ass, too, if he doesn't stop doing the annoying cunt anytime soon.

Now you're gonna ask... why Green River, out of all the towns y'all rode by, along the highway? The answer is simple, plain, and oddly predictable: Sean is feeling humorous as fuck today.

The debacle began when Sean sped past the tour bus, turned his right blinker on, and took the highway exit to Green River. I followed, unquestioning, and the tour bus followed me, at a much slower, more appropriate speed. The driver was a bit confused, still he had a good laugh, when Sean took the lead of the road. It was like the Phellus chauffeur was sensing that some shit was gonna go down. Everyone in the Phellus Camp knows that when Sean does something, it's always for a reason, and generally, the reason is funny and extra as hell. I honestly just thought he needed to take a very urgent piss, he has very little control over his bladder... but I changed my mind, and realised what he was tryna be all about, when he took his helmet off and yelled a big, sordid, 'Green River, Stone Gossard, squawk!' on top of his lungs. I think that this is Gerry's payback for having been annoying the hell out of a poor, innocent me for hours in a row, and I think I love Sean just a little bit more, after this. He's so smart, so sarcastic, so funny, so over the top and so malicious... and I'm so fucking in love with him.

Now we're here, outside of a huge mall, heading for lunch I think, and we're all smoking. And we are all looking and acting like a bunch of weird fucks. I have my parrot on my shoulder and a chick on my saddle, tugging my arm because she didn't know I was with Phellus in Chains, she's apparently their fan, and she's asking me if she can have lunch with us. As if I were their manager or their press agent. Sean is literally laying on his bike, exhausted, with one hand on the peepee, à la Kinney, and with a joint in his other hand. Layne looks almost normal, hopping off the tour bus with his crutch under one arm, and Bessie under the other one. Gerry is fuming, and if I can see correctly, he's kicking the tire of the Phellus in Chains tour bus. Starr and his second brunette in just two days are smoking and doing the lemon on a wall of bricks, a few steps away from us. This is us. A bunch of weird people... and if you take Cuntrell away from this family picture, we're all pretty rad.

'Brother... Green River is more or less what no man's land looks like to you'. Sean chimes in, standing up from his lay on top of his Kawasaki, just to crawl closer to Gerry and annoy him from half an inch of distance. He's trying to save face, but he's laughing under his breath, and his eyes are giving away clowny. I don't know if he just wants to do the clown, or if he wants to throw a couple fists at Gerry, as soon as the sarcastic, verbal assault is over ... but one thing, I know for sure. Sean's nagging will only make Cuntrell's hatred for me grow stronger. That's how it always goes. Sean speaks, does the menace, annoys Gerry, and the blondie takes it all against me, instead of taking it against his nose pierced bandmate. I ain't even talking to Cuntrell, I'm just looking at Sean like I'm telling him to cut the crap right now because I know how this is going, and it's most likely going to go against me...and I'm here, harmless and silent, but Gerry is looking at me like he fucking wants to kill me. Ridiculous.