OK, so I know I've missed a few days and its too hard to summarise things now but I will say, I found myself lying on a fold-out couch in the kind-of lounge room of a collapsing old people's home. My mate Carlo and his 'cant-look-him-in-the-eyes-he's-so-dashingly-good-looking' flat mate live there and only them. There are something like 25 deserted empty rooms all in varying states of decay... I'm fairly certain most of them have other-world inhabitants and I'm quite terrified to venture too far past the door way in fear they may spiritually grab me by the wrist and make me sit down and have tea and stale cake whilst having to listen to their stories of war and knitting woes.
Anyway, where was I... I woke up, tired and under slept, hungry and hung-over. The sound of my snoring guitarist was coming from around the bar and the too-bright sunshine was beating down on me from the skylight above. I had to search my brain carefully to reconstruct the events of the previous night and it was at that moment, as I scrambled for water to relieve my parched mouth and a pillow to block my already glued together eyes (a result of not washing make-up off the night before)from the light, that I knew that I was really, definitely, on tour!
Parent count: zero!!!!