Trip to Nashville is whatever. Nothing major happens. Short trip. Rain. Phil buys boiled peanuts. Eats shells.

Arrive in Nashville. First stop, Robert’s Western World for some touristy honky tonkin. Pretty awesome. The strip of touristy bullshit is super first-time-to-Nashville fun. Everyone smiles.

Leave cool touristy bullshit, head to venue. Before, stop at Nashville’s main goofy attraction – the Parthenon. Yeah, it’s an exact replica built about a hundred years ago because Nashville is supposedly the new Athens. Believer. More smiles. More ridicule.

Depart fake antiquity, head to venue. Venue is close to fake Parthenon and even closer to an alternative lifestyle bar named “Purple Heys.”

Nashville is cold. Band is cold. Venue is freezing. We drink many cold beers to stay warm. A homeless and toothless and witless man helps us. He’s a friend.

Raein plays. Crushes the competition. Venue is neat because it’s in Nashville and because it’s a one light bulb kinda stage. Photos look epic.

Art in a Squat Note: Television that has a secret message once it displays the child’s face is good punk art.

Leave shithole. Go to very nice sleep room at Chris’s. Chris is a local bike aficionado. Single speed. Brakes. Helmet. Nice pants. Nice hoody. Nice hair. Nice girlfriend. Super nice apartment. With Chris as a member, Boosh (Indy) is inferior to whatever his local bike gang is called. Good eats. Raein kills a jar of mayo, ketchup, loaf of bread. Enter Nashville nightlife. See very funny gang altercation on way to Graham Central Station. Impressive behinds.

Nashville Note: Dat Ass.

Return to warmth. Drink Jameson. Sleep. Wake. Eat at Bongo Java or something. Good. Meet James. Tutor him on the ways of being an A/V bro. Mind is blown of James.

James in Nashville Note: James in Nashville is going to fail his audio engineering tech test. Sorry. Java Bongo did not fail my granola test.

Depart.

Indianapolis.