"boys and girls in america"

"On the road with the City Streets"

SEE Magazine, July 31st

Last day of cheap drinks in Alberta.

Love,

The Wild Dogs.

"poetry has no place for a heart that's a whore"

WHISKEY BURNOUT BASEMENTS 2008

Probably the best three men have ever looked in thrift store dresses. And a tour for the ages. First Frank gets turned away at the U.S. border for having 0.02 grams of weed on a jean jacket that he brought with him in the van on a whim, so him and Parker split back to E-Town and plan to meet up with us later. Then Matt and I hop in a semi truck and head to Minot, North Dakota where we get to the venue at 2:30 am and drink our faces off and play a set in a sand pit. Next up we're in Michigan and we slice a deer in half with our van and cave in the hood. We're waiting on the side of the highway with a two six of Yukon Jack and we get a ride to Canada where Rick and I hitchhike to Toronto to make it in time for this:

So I fuck up a few chords at the end, I hadn't slept in two days and I was piss drunk. But we got there alive. Then we spend the day on Craigslist looking for a new vehicle and we find one in Mississauga, and our good friend Peter buses out there to buy it from some guy we still haven't met. Then Mutt and I drive to Sarnia--where the old dead van is parked--and load the gear and drive back to Toronto. At this point it becomes a bit more of a normal tour.

We get to Minneapolis eventually and when we wake up at the house we're crashing at we find that Mutt's eyes have been glued shut with Elmer's by these sadistic fuckers who we paid back in spades. You know who you fucking are, you assholes.

By the time we get to Saskatoon, we've played some of the best shows of our lives and we're ready to party so we dressed in drag and messed up our brains. We made it home in one piece, thanks to a few people who we'll be forever indebted: Amanda in Regina for being who she is, Paul, the trucker in Portal, Sahir, who picked up two harsh looking fucks on the 401, Peter, who bought us the van, Mary, who let us crash at their place, Anna, who gave us a boost in De Pere before our show and paid for the room, Matt Fava, for the support yet again, Sam, for getting the Streets at the Royal Albert, Ryan, for booking Le Relais, Tiffany, for the smiles and for lighting up a room, Christine, for always cooking the greatest breakfasts you can find in Western Canada, and Parker James Thiessen and Frank Derek Pirker, because they always got a light.

It's one for the ages, and we'll never forget.

Love,

The Wild Dogs.

xoxo

"get up from a dream and i look for rain"

Tonight at the Artery/Studio E: Ramshackle Day Parade, an evening of weird shit and noise rock. Wild Dogs are celebration, the sound of your friends in the room, the clinking of a glass, the smoke of a joint, kissing a beautiful girl. Gin Theft is the piss on your shoes and the vomit in a back alley.