Strangers with Candy

What’s going on, friends?
This is Chap Stique writing you from sunny Arizona, where the heat has successfully baked all of the odors of the band’s morning breath and unwashed dishes into a revolting stew of stench. To put it more simply, our bus stinks, and the heat has transformed the smell into a tangible mush.

On a more flowery, fresh note, I have received lot of inquiries about my upcoming wedding! Wowsahs, whoa, wee, and wahoo! The Beas and I have been dating for five glorious years, and it’s about dang time for us to tie that thick, double, no, triple knot! Details have been requested, but I have to save them until after the big day. No offense, but I don’t want any of the guests to read or hear about the draygon (spelling intended) that’s jumping out of our cake and breathing fire all over the floor while we dance to Ronnie James Dio’s "Rainbow in the Dark." It’s supposed to be a surprise. But I’ll shoot you a few tidbits of inside scoop when I write my next blog (how the floral-arrangements looked, what kind of food we ate, etc.).

Yesterday was a day off for Family Force 5, and we parked near a giant hotel in the beautiful city of Alba-crazy, New Mexico. I decided to go for a run (despite the frigid temperature and drizzly precipitation), and I was delighted at the amazingly epic vibe that accommodated my jog. As I ran along the side of the highway (stupid, yes...the only option...yes), I steadily approached a domineering, snow-capped mountain range that was enveloped by cloudy smog. It felt as though Smeagol was about to leap out at any moment to smuggle my iPod, which was blasting Muse’s foreboding song "Take a Bow" through the overcast atmosphere. Kind of creepy, if you ask me.

As I finished the run, I sludged my sweaty body into the 5-star restrooms at the posh hotel (don’t worry, we weren’t staying at a 5-star hotel, we were simply parking there) and waited in line. As I awaited my turn at using the facilities, a suspicious, flustered man urgently sprinted into the bathroom flailing his arms and yelling, "Excuse me, sir!"

I turned and greeted him, slightly on the defensive.

"How many miles did you just run?" He desperately implored.

"I’m not sure...I didn’t check. Maybe 2-and-a-half or three," I retorted.

"Did you know Americans breathe incorrectly?"

"No, but to be honest, that doesn’t surprise me too much," I politely replied.

"Most Americans have terrible foot problems because their shoes don’t fit," he urgently demanded.

"Oh," I answered, anticipating the sales-pitch of a lifetime.

"Ok. I saw you running, so I thought you should know," he nonchalantly concluded while leaving the bathroom.

It was a very "Big Gulps" moment (if you don’t understand that allusion...well, you should), and it kind of creeped me out for a few minutes. I waited in line for my turn to use the restroom (three other men nervously crept by as we were having our awkward exchange) and then walked back to the bus, examining my improper breathing habits and uninformed footwork.

I don’t think there’s a moral...just kind of a funny moment. Nothing profound...just something random that I thoroughly enjoyed.

In other news, my tux is altered, my cyclops toenail is back to being a bi-clops (which I think is a good thing), my phone fell in the toilet, and my bowling scores are back up to par, despite a drastic decline over the last month or so.

Oh, and my mom wrote this hilarious message to me...here it is:

"Hi, Mr. Derek.

Your dad went to a Rogers High School baseball game last night to support a young kid from church. Imagine his surprise when he heard them playing "Southern Gentleman" (?) over the loudspeaker. He told the people he was with that he was sure that was your song. They went up to the announcer booth, and sure enough, there was the FF5 CD which they said they use often!

Rock on!"

I just love that she said "Southern Gentleman" and then had the (?). Incredibly hilarious to me. My mom RULES!

Take care, and rock it like a bunch of champions!