Wow, I didn't have internet all day and I felt the pangs of a drug addict.
I am sitting backstage right now in York, at Fibbers, listening to Ricky play and I need to get my ass out there because he is good. Real good.
But first I wanted to a bit about our time in Brighton.
We spent the night at this really rad place, the Blanch House, where Q made a friend, Tom, the three legged cat.
The staff were so nice and the room was amazing- anyway, this morning we knew we had a 5 hour drive ahead of us but couldn't help but get up a little early and walk on the pier. There were roller coasters a plenty which Q was set on, I was happy I am currently pregnant, Eddie gets to ride the puker, not me.
We hop in the car, but not without a little bit of drama.
Eddie went and grabbed the car to pull up front so we could load our things.
He walks into the room a little quiet, we gather the last bits and he turns to me right before we walk out with a somewhat serious face... "I just want you to know there's a little drama unfolding out front". I'm like totally confused, he was gone for like 15 minutes checking out and moving the car around... oh wait, did I say "car"?
Evidently he pulls into the front spot and pops up on the curb a little and when he backs off it rubs our bumper on the cars bumper in front of us... well, guess who was watching? Ms. Grumpy pants. He didn't hit it, he rubbed it- anyway, she was gone when we came downstairs but I guess not before she put him through the ringer. Asking for addresses and names and calling Avis (good luck with that lady, you'll be on the phone all day) and her son took a picture of him. HIlarious! There was no mark on our car and I told Eddie it was ridiculous and that at least she only asked for his addy and name... so then I got to thinking, this is Eddie- my Eddie!... my next question? "What did you tell her your name was?"