22-06-98 House of Blues. New Orleans, LA...

I wake up at 5pm. Coo coo ka choo, I am the space man. The jet lag has mashed my brain. I have no idea what time my body clock is running at.

It's 100 degrees and full humidity outside. We have to change busses today. Some Country and Western singer wants the best bus and we're paying less than her and so we have to change buses. Land of the free (enterprise). The new bus is the same as the other bus. The only visible difference is that the seat covers aren't leather and the bus is blue instead of purple. I don't need to recline on dead cow skin to relax and I prefer blue to purple, it goes with my eyes, so what do I care? 'Let her have, the dawgone bus - it jus aint, wurth tha fuss' (sung in a country style).

The House of Blues is pretty full. During their set Junkie XL get pelted with various food items by Gravity Kills. The dressing rooms are up in the balcony facing the sides of the stage so it's easy. It's Junkie XL's last night of the tour and so they traditionally have to get hassled.

Junkie XL's singer 'Rude Boy' throws his microphone at Gravity Kills, right through the dressing room window. A perfect shot. It's all harmless fun.
We pelt them with lemons.

We have a lot of laughs on stage. The crowd are into PSI in New Orleans. I dive over the security, run along the monitors (knocking them off the stage (oops)) and pull folks out of the crowd onto the stage. I love a good gig crowd. It's the balconies that kill me. Clubs should only let people into their balconies when the main floor is full. People get lazy in balconies. They don't clap, they sit their resting their heads in their hands. There's one guy resting his head in both hands, looking at me. He knows I can't reach him. He knows he's safe in the balcony. He can look at me and yawn. He's safe. He's wrong. I push past Jim and climb up the PA, over the rail and onto the balcony. I sit next to the bored, safe balcony guy. His head isn't in his hands anymore and his mouth is wide open.

I sing half of the tune up there next to him and jump back down.

During Gravity Kills' set a guy finds me in the crowd. "Phil Anselmo from Pantera told me to say hello. He's over in the UK playing the Ozzfest so he couldn't come to the gig." OK.
After show there is a floor show for the bands. We get dragged inside. Two women with G-strings work their way across the room to cheesy dance music. There are two other girls in the room. I watch their faces as they watch the spectacle with all the men. They aren't watching the girls, they're watching the men's faces. They must feel really uncomfortable. I feel uncomfortable and I'm not even a woman. I hide behind a table and sip and stare. But am I allowed to hide? I am dragged from behind the table into a big easy chair. Some fool slips our CD into the player and the woman gyrates around in close proximity to my face in time with the music.

Luckily the bouncer who's looking after the two girls calls for a five minute break in the middle of my turn. I escape to a bar with Chris (the main tech for Gravity Kills) under the guise of going to the toilet.

The bar is all fucked up. New Orleans is all fucked. The people are all fucked up. What do you expect? Anyone who voluntarily moves to a place that is renowned for people getting fucked up in, is bound to be fucked up. My ex-girlfriend's sister's new boyfriend is working the bar. Small world. I forget the advice given to me at the club earlier on and drink a series of multicoloured free shots at the bar. 'Desensitized' (an old Pitchshifter CD) is on the duke box. Nice.

At the bar I meet a girl with a lip piercing who wants to read my Tarot cards. I thank her but decline. We get into a conversation.

"I used to be at college. I was a grade A. But I left and moved down to New Orleans."
"Why?"
"To get drunk."
"Oh."

The Tarot girl introduces me to a friend of hers.

"Jon, this is my friend Lucy."
"Hello I'm Jon, how ya doing?"
(Crying) "My fucking boyfriend ran off to Baton Rouge for two months with another woman and left me here with our son."
"Nice to meet you."

This place is fucked. I escape back to the safety of the bus with Chris.

Unfortunately the bus isn't too safe right now, because it's gone. Nice. I guess I'll have to take that 12hr ride to Florida with the Gravity kills boys. I stay up watch weird movies on their bus with Doug (keyboard player) and then drop dead in the bunk they've set aside for me at 10am (my current tour record).