Moth Wings – CRAZY TOUR STORIES

In this Crazy Tour Stories segment, the rock ‘n roll band, Moth Wings, talk about some of their crazy moments from touring. You can check out the feature, after the break.

Moth Wings – CRAZY TOUR STORIES

In this Crazy Tour Stories segment, the rock ‘n roll band, Moth Wings, talk about some of their crazy moments from touring. You can check out the feature, after the break.

We had just left the beach and had started on our way towards a venue just on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Notice I say “just on the outskirts,” because the venue was only a mere 30 miles outside of the city. Anywhere else, it would take maybe an hour at the most to get through traffic and arrive at said destination. In Los Angeles, it took us approximately three hours. That’s quite a bit of time for three people in a Sprinter tour van to sit still in a respectable manner. I had decided to take a nap while Luke and Jaida sat up front just listening to some tunes and having a casual conversation. About an hour later, I wake up from my nap and that’s when things started getting weird.
I wake up to hear Luke screaming at various drivers on the highway moving at the speed of a turtle, while Jaida is blasting a song called “Drive North” where the band shouts throughout the song of their hatred for Los Angeles. I then glance at the GPS where I realize we had only driven about 7 miles in the hour I had slept. Shortly after, I realize I had to pee. Unfortunately, we weren’t moving enough to even stop somewhere.
Shortly after that, I realized the extent of how badly I needed to urinate, and I made continuous sounds similar to that of a banshee. As much as I heard them tell me, “Spencer, you’re shit out of luck”, I couldn’t handle myself. Jaida then handed me a bottle and gestured for me to pee in it. At this point I knew it was the only chance I had, so I did. As I felt the bottle get heavier I realized I had much more piss in my bladder than this one bottle was going to hold. I had to cut myself off to desperately search for another receptacle.
Luke then suggested an album we hadn’t heard before to distract him from his anger developing from the traffic that we had now been in for two hours. I’m still searching around for this damn bottle while Jaida starts playing the album, only to realize that it was the epitome of absolute garbage noise intentionally placed over smooth jazz. I still had a half full bladder, was holding it in during laughs, and was handed an empty Gatorade bottle to finish my business. As I was situating myself, Luke starts speeding up and slowing down, I’m sloshing around all over the place trying to fit my willie in this stupid Gatorade hole. I can’t even see if it’s lined up, I just have to take a leap of faith, but the second I get the courage to begin peeing for the second time, I hear track 4 of this garbage album: the literal commentary of a man getting his asshole licked. I cannot express how hard it is to urinate under the conditions of moving traffic and hearing “oh yeah lick this ass” over and over. I didn’t spill a drop. I gave myself a medal. The only thing wet in the van were the tears streaming from Luke’s face as we arrived at the venue.

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