Flying. Maybe if I was in control, like Superman is of his flying, I'd be okay with it. It's not that I'm scared to fly, although I am realizing as I get older my anxiety is getting worse, it's just I don't understand the physics of it. How in the hell do they keep that heavy ass piece of steel up in the air for so long? How can they get it to go so fast without it coming apart at the seams? Then, how can they slow it down just right to get it to land so smoothly? Is it really that smooth? Probably violent as hell, scientifically speaking. So many questions, so few answers. Maybe I should take flying leasons so I could understand all this and feel better about it...nah, I'll just medicate myself, pass out, and wake up once I'm where I'm flying to. Also, I feel like crap when I'm flying. My ears and stomach are like, "this sucks, we don't like this." And so, with all this being said, today THE MANAGEMENT will obtain the airline tickets that will get me and my band across the pond in 8 weeks. DON'T FORGET THE DRUGS! Pleeeaassseee!!! Take care. Later, Butch