I am a Moomin, hibernating deep inside a fluffy nest, all snuggled up with a slight breeze brushing past my forehead. Oh wait, no I’m fucking not. I’m curled up in a massive bed surrounded with sumptuous bed linen with the air con breezing about me. I’m in L.A!
I feel like I’ve been asleep for a million years and am pretty sure I have over slept. Talita has been softly padding about the room for a while now and I have my eyes tightly shut waiting for her to tell me to get up and be all go go go. This doesn’t happen. She is back in her bed, I reach over to my phone and holy shit it’s bloody 7 am? How the hell has that happened. This is unheard of, my mum and dad would literally not believe this. It can only be that sodding jetlag me thinks, working is crafty way about my body like some uninvited rash oblivious to the naked eye. Bugger.
At some point last night we all arranged a time for John to come and pick us up and take us somewhere for breakfast, but since being so mega drunk none of us can recall exactly what time that was. There is a potential 2-hour window that the meeting time falls in. Fail.
So at 11 am we wait, I’m pretty sure it was noon, nothing. Finally we realise that we can actually phone him and he’s 15 minutes away. I knew I was right.
My fake spray tan is working a treat so I brave getting the pins out and spend the next several hours going from paranoid to not giving a shit if L.A is sickened by my thread veins that look like a map of the greater London area. This is what L.A does to me, makes me all mellow and devil may care. Sweet. John is taking us to the Griddle, a pancake institution apparently. We park up, get ourselves seated and look around us. This place is fucking cool, the waiter is hot and the smells coming from the kitchen are to die for, what a result. I take Johns advice and get the ‘Yellow brick road’ pancake stack and share it with nick cause these blighters are huge. I get a side of scrambled eggs and bacon too cause this is the next step in American food exploration. Pancakes, sweet, with bacon?!
I’ve noticed that I get really antsy having to wait to be served, to get the food, to get the bill, to get out of there. London time is definitely quicker than L.A time. I try to chill out but once I’ve eaten I just want to get the fuck out of there and do something else. Maybe it’s just that we are here for such a short time and I want to fit in as much as possible cause it’s ace over here!
My breakfast was out of this world, although by the time I admitted defeat I felt like I was going to throw up! The experience did not let me down in any way and I can leave The Griddle safe in the knowledge I will probably never eat there again.
After we eventually get out of there, it’s back to the hotel to meet up with Neil, the photographer who will be doing the shoot with White Wizzard today. Yes we do actually get some work done during this trip you know. Granted it’s the best work ever so barely counts but work it is none the less.
While waiting for the band to turn up we all hit the roof top pool, feel free to go chuck up somewhere, I know how sickening this is trust! Frolicking in the pool with my girl Talita is the most fun. We have a cabana overlooking L.A and I work on the potential of skin cancer by sun bathing till I’m too hot, pissing about in the pool to cool off and then sun bathing again till I'm totally dry. I’m intrigued to see quite how red I’ll go. Before we know it the guys have all arrived and are chilling out on the sun lounges. We all introduce ourselves to each other and chew the cud for a while before sorting our shit out and hitting the road for the location shoot.
After a drive that takes us through L.A and then along the Pacific Highway coastline, we pull up on the side of the road amongst the most beautiful and intimidating rocky, craggy mountains climbing up from the road. The GTO gets positioned in front and the equipment set up. The guys all pose around the car and the shoot is underway. The photos, through the camera look amazing and I can’t wait to see them properly. A couple of hours later and it’s done and dusted. The guys loosened up throughout and by the end were really going for it Metal stylee, fucking winners!
Not knowing that I’d be out all day I didn’t bring tights or a jacket and it’s turned pretty chilly now, so I forego the GTO and shotgun Eric’s Ford pick up instead. unfortunately there is a big seat divider in the middle and no back seats, so poor Jesse the drummer has to perch on that, I feel guilty but not that guilty I guess or I would have gone in the other car. We hit the beach quickly before dinner and me and Talita have our shoes off quick smart wadding in and pissing about.
O.k so check this. The day we arrived in L.A there was an earthquake. A small unfortunately, so we didn’t get to feel how that is, but one strong enough that coastline had loads of ocean life washed up on the beach cause the tide had rushed in and then out again really quickly.
All along there were these bizarre looking things that looked like a cross between a jellyfish and a purple liver. Nick accidently trod on one and his shoe got covered in purple dye. It wasn’t until a bit later when were trying to dig a trench for one so that it would role back in to the ocean that we noticed they were sea slugs! Weird fucking things I tell you. Jesse showed me how to catch sand crabs, that’s not a euphemism, they were little crabs that dig down in the sand and leave little bubbles on the surface.
Anyways…drink time! The guys have been banging on about this German pub they all go to and so off we speed for food and booze and for Nick to get his Kerrang! Interview. Not such an exciting place I found, simply cause we have loads of these places back home. Of course I tell the guys this, ha! What an arsehole. We all chow down our dubious German grub and are joined by friends of the band and some girlfriends and have quite the corner party going on. These lot are definatly gonna love Europe. We are all mega excited and everyone’s chatting and shouting and laughing and generally having a ball. Karaoke tonight for sure!
Nick gets his interview started and then, and then me and Talita fall asleep. At the table. We fall asleep. What fucking parallel universe is this that I am keeping the same fucking hours as an OAP? Fucks sake. Seriously, the barmaid came over and told us we couldn’t sleep there! Ahahahahahaaaa, my how the tables have turned, it’s usually me doing that!. Needless to add to this but shock of shocks, Karaoke did not happen. We got in the GTO and sped back to the ‘Riot’, detouring down Hollywood blvd to look at all the freaks and went straight to bed. What a bunch of losers. Tomorrow we are having a siesta so that this does not ever happen again. Ever. I’m ashamed of myself. I know better.
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