We leave Phoenix on Sunday night in high spirits. Well...at least I was in high spirits...the local brew Sid at Jugheads kept aflowing was quite potent. Anyhow, I happily make everyone ham sammiches as we bounce along I-somethingsomething toward San Diego. By 2am, everyone is crashed out and I imagine Josh is pretty sleepy too. Sometime in the night, we apparently pulled over at a rest stop in the middle of the desert where Jon slept on the trailer. He awoke to find a trucker sitting in the passenger side of the truck, just staring at him. It kind of creeped him out, so he got up and inadvertantly woke Nate and me up while rummaging for who-knows-what. It was getting hot in there anyway. So we hit the road and wind through sand dunes and then desert hills and then vineyards and finally, there it is...the ocean.

We all cheer with sincere happiness. The first thing we do is find the venue, Dream Street in Ocean Beach, and park the truck there. Then, we walk to the beach. Hotties all over the place. The water is pleasant and like liquid heaven--except for when Jon and I swim out too far and nearly get pulled out to sea. No joke, the lifeguard on the jetski was like, "you're too far out! Go back!!" I'm glad we didn't die in the ocean, that would have really put a lot of stress on Josh, Nate, and Joe for the recording.

The people in San Diego are soo friendly, particularly Drew at Dream Street. We eat at Hodad's, a local burger joint with burgers the size of small children. The weather is amazing. We find a single-bed motel room for $50 (the cheapest we could find in the area) near Point Loma complete with suspicious stains and hairy soap. A lot of stupid stuff went on in the motel room which I don't feel like elaborating upon, but if you're terribly curious, ask away and maybe someone will answer.

The shows at Dream Street were...well...it could have been better. There WAS this one band called Irene from Houston that was amazing, in my opinion. That same night--Friday night--Red Metric from Virginia Beach played too. It's funny because I remember them asking us to book them at a venue in Albuquerque last year via Myspace. Small world. And then there were not so good bands, but I don't feel like elaborating on those either.

We went to the mall on Wednesday to pass out handbills. I don't think any of those people made it. Josh, Nate, and Joe made sure to flyer the hell out of the Ann Taylor store. On Thursday, we met this hippie/surfer bum (he was very tan) and enlisted his help in flyering the beach. We also met Jake the dog..."GO HOME JAKE!!" It was Joe's 19th birthday on Friday, so we went to Midway Beach and hung out. I ate lots of fish tacos, and no that's not an allusion to anything else. Unfortunately, we left without ever once setting foot inside an In-and-Out Burger.

In related news, a number of small children have been reported missing in the Dream Street area of San Diego...