Back to the fine state of Ohio, this time to the Lime Spider in Akron, Oct. 2 to share the bill with the Kung Fu Dykes. We weren’t sure what to expect with a name like that but the band was pretty rad. Hailing from Virginia Beach, the Dykes aren’t really dykes at all, in fact of the three of them, only one is female. They do this strange sort of industrial, metal type stuff all done in black lights. Worth checking out if you get a chance. Once again the Akron crowd favors the Broadz as we dish out heaps of Detroit rock n’ roll goodness. Forget Cleveland, Akron RAWKS!!!!

Back home to our home away from home, the Machine Shop in Flint. It’s Oct. 8 and we’re stoked to return to shop. I’ve said it a million times, it’s the coolest club ever and if you’re reading this and you’ve never been there, GO! Drive, fly, whatever it is you have to do, go check this place out! The rock is always on at the shop, the stage and the crowd never disappoints. Flint rules and we love you! Thanks for your support!

Oct. 15 and we’re headed to Lansing, our states capitol to deliver the rock goods. Mac’s Bar is the best Lansing rock dive, perfect for our set of dirty rock n’ roll. We arrive early and engage in watching Fear Factor on the bars only tv set. We’re all gathered around chilling out watching people eating gross shit and risking their lives for money. Then again, being in a rock band, I eat gross shit on the road and risk my life all the time and money isn’t even in the picture. So who am I to judge! At any rate, the rock was let loose, the Lansing fans agreed and we all went home safe. Except Tim Ott, he had to sleep off a little bit of his buzz before driving the blue racer back home.

Next weekend, a glorious trip to the East Coast with stops in PA, NYC and MA. We head out a day early to avoid too much driving in one day. It’s Thursday Oct. 21 and we hit the road headed for the Ohio Turnpike. We drive and drive and drive before arriving in State College PA, home of the smartest guy on the planet with the largest collection of maps known to mankind. I’m speaking of the legendary Benjamin Cramer from Pennsylfuckingvania. We arrive at his apartment complex, just in time to make enough noise to wake everyone up. Rock star fashion people, that’s what it’s all about. We visit with Ben for a few and immediately hit the sack and prepare for a long drive to NYC the following day.

Next morning we wake up, shower courtesy of Ben’s shower. I’m convinced he cleaned his apartment in preparation for our arrival. Thank you Ben, we always love a free shower. Then it was off to Sheetz for some gasoline and a breakfast sandwich and coffee. Ben came along for the ride, offering his extremely mapped out navigational skills. Once near NYC, we’re quickly diverted from use of the tunnels. There’s only one bridge that will allow travel with an RV so we circle around a huge detour before arriving. Once onto the island, we drive blocks and blocks to our destination. 315 Bowery. Yes, CB fucking GB’s. It’s our first time playing there and we’re stoked, plus we’ve got some friends on the bill with us, Devil Kit, Lady Unluck, Motorpsychos and so on and so on. It’s shaped up to be a kick ass night of girl rock and that it is. But before we get our rock on, a trip around the corner to ST. Mark’s place is in order.

Once inside Trash and Vaudville, I’m reminded of how unhip the Detroit fashion is. I could’ve spent a million dollars in there but instead I spent none. Not by choice, but I’m a starving musician. Back at CB’s, we get to meet some email friends for the first time. Including our friend Al who is the proud owner of a house boat which I swear we will someday see when time permits. At any rate, we proceed to deliver the rock in full decibels, leaving the stage a wet mess of BZ sweat. Yay!

Next morning, a quick walk up to Starbucks is in order and a visit to the CB’s gallery where Tasha Zilla got her very first CB’s dog shirt. She’s the coolest.

Several hours and states later, we arrive in Massachusetts, headed for Boston we slowly make our way through traffic. Not just rush-hour traffic, I’m talking World Series traffic. It was the second game of the World Series and the Red Soxx were kicking major, major ass. Turns out the venue, O’Brien’s was just blocks from Fenway Park so we were right in the center of the action. Could this be good for us? Would we be able to take the attention off the tv and onto the stage? Only time would tell. We watch with anticipation as the opening band battles with the 2nd world series game. Next up, we take the stage and before you know it, eyes are on us leaving many to abandon the tv screen and turn around to watch us. I break a string right away but Jason Zilla saves the day with a quick hand-off of the spare guitar and we’re back in business. You know you’re doing well with the crowd when the owner of the bar, having never seen you before, swarms the stage with a tray of shots for the band. At that point we had accomplished our mission and continued to rock harder, faster and louder.

Did they win the game? Of course they did and they went on to win the world series. It was a great time to be in Boston and we hope to come back again soon. We then spent part of that night and the next day driving back to State College PA where we spent the evening with a meal courtesy of Ben and a night of scareyoke at the local bowling alley. Doesn’t get more white trash then that. Afterwards, we dumped Ben off at his crib and headed home.

Over and out.