Band on the Runs

The Ron Titter Band played at the Parlor last night. It was a bit slippy and the PA was crap, but none of that would've mattered much to me if my gastrointestinal tract hadn't gone into uncontrollable spasms right before we started.

It was ugly. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through the show. Fortunately, our performance didn't turn into an erstwhile tribute to G.G. Allin. Something like that would've really put a nasty dent in pizza sales, though I should note that whatever I ate didn't come from the Parlor.

Right now I'm in suburban Atlanta for a social marketing conference at the Centers for Disease Control. They've put us up at a Marriott, which is nice enough, but not close to anything. All my friends in touring bands say I need to see a bizarre, low-rent topless bar called the Clermont Lounge (NSFW) on Ponce de Leon. Don't know if I'll make it there or not.