Enter Adam Zlotnik…….
I will say this right now. Sleeping on a bunk bed above [bassist] Adam Zlotnik is like trying to slow dance with an epileptic at a rave. It’s fucked. He immediately hopped in the bottom bunk and made a phone call to my complete sorrow and disappointment.
Once the phone call was complete, he began tossing and turning like a listless trout washed up on the beach of fuck-it. Once he got settled he would go “AAAAH” like he had just drank a nice iced tea on a hot day. All the while I was wiggling about on the top bunk like an asshole whose only fault was being mind numbingly self-serving.
Then finally I approached rest. You know that warm and tender feeling you get as you slip away into sweet unconsciousness? It’s like a hug from your mother, and a pleasant bath all in one. I just started drifting… and drifting… and drif…
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK…..
I immediately become fully alert and filled with homicidal rage. I realize that it is Adam knocking in my bed from underneath me. “WHAT!?” I squeaked like I had just had a dream of road rage. “Is that you snoring?” he whispered.
It was then that I look to the floor and find my brother and drummer: self-sufficient snoring Mason on an inflatable air mattress that he had the foresight to bring from home so that he would never have to sleep above a gentleman with the personality and likeability of a wet sock ever again. ‘NO IT’S MASON SNORING, AND NOW I HAVE A FRONT ROW SEAT FOR IT ASWELL YA PRICK!’ ‘…sorry.’
I could have gotten back to sleep if my entire being wasn’t consumed by hate and irritability. Should have taken the couch.
Spencer “me first” Le Von”
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