First day off on this UK jaunt and you know what that means – laundry. We're in Bristol which seems like the only UK town, so far, that doesn't recognize there's a recession going on - judging by it's shiny sprouting harbour view flats and it's star trek control panel launderettes. I would feel like I was in the city of the future if it weren't for the high street chains blasting out the Bristol sound of the nineties and the prominent Banksies (although they have all been defaced which is all very post post-modern). Shit. Sitting in college square has turned me into a latte drinking social commentator. I better get back in touch with my primal side so I can dish out the brutal riffs tonight at the Fleece. The only thing to ponder now, as I watch the underwear spin, is how Al has made it this far with just two pairs of pants.

Nice warm reception at the show from penguins, skeletons, scientists and hells angels alike. And as much as some of the faces tonight we've seen at many gigs before we're getting extra appreciation for playing a full length headline set for the first time on a UK tour. It's not a bad problem to have when you have too many good songs to choose from and after this tour we're going to have to start squeezing in more from the new album. The Black Sonic boys were led off by an angel to spend the night in a padded cell (rehearsal room). Travelodge suddenly looked like the Ritz.