So there’s probably been a lot of you who’ve come on this site & been like, “WTF???” What happened to the posts?
We’ve all been doing some other things – Here’s how we’ve rolled:
Rory has been writing with The Green Genes, playing with Vox and the Hound, started his own underground fight club with his friend, Tyler, developed a cure for cancer but had to scrap it because the man wanted to charge for it, fighting terrorism (no, not with the Army. On his own, and with his bare hands. Why? Because he eats terrorism for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, that’s freaking why), punching pedals, and convincing Christopher Nolan to do a third “Batman” film.
With his leisure time Rory enjoys talking smack on Avatar (seriously, f**k James Cameron), writing a movie, preparing for grad school, breaking fingers (mostly his own), hunting wild elk in the smokey mountains, discerning the meaning of life from watching The Empire Strikes Back repeatedly, both schooling and punking bitches of all stripes, and spending time with his godchild, because everyone has a soft side.
While finally pursuing his life-long dream of opening a school for kids “Who do calculus but can’t add good,” Nick’s world came to a screeching halt. While in the middle of inventing, “the perfect riff” – Nick’s beloved Ibanez (aka, Big Blue) gasped her last breath. Crushed, (both for the loss of the riff and the guitar) Nick organized and led an old fashioned jazz funeral through the streets of Old Gretna. Among the attendees were local prominent beer vendors & a few cats. A writer for a “certain” publication referred to the ceremony as “The most touching thing since the last time I was detained by airport security.”
Generally pissed off as a result, Nick decided to seriously abuse every guitar that comes into his possession by beating the living shit out of it. Giving them the ol’ Pete Townsend, if you will. For questions – Google: “Death and Destruction”, or “Blowing Shit Up.”
Scott Theriot (yeah, me.)
After burning my tongue severely on a piece of French Quarter Pizza, I basically took a vow of silence. Thrusting my eyeballs into the likes of Tolstoy, Ibsen, Dickens, and Bill Simmons, this not only slightly improved my vocabulary, it flat out pissed me off!
Adopting the long forgotten monicker of “Mush Mouth,” I proceeded to train as an MC and bodyguard. That way I can pay myself to take out the fools that step in my grill (e? no e? Hmm. Decisions.). These days were simply grueling as I began a lengthy study under Diddy/Daddy/Puffy/Pdiddy Combs and Shug (Only an “s” away from a hug!) Knight.
To while away the hours between tongue healing and badass gangsta training, I managed to make attempts to rival Nick in terms of guitar destroying, but only came up with a new way to scream words clearly with a bandaged tongue. I am now currently writing this from rehab as I’m getting over my love of gauze. I am still silent. I am still in quiet, badass gangsta mode.
All together, the three of us are petitioning the New Orleans Hornets to sign us each to a 10 day contract right around the time we play the Lakers. One of our feet – kobe’s knee. You get the picture.
So I guess you’re all thinking the same thing by now: Where the hell is my Pete Cassagne fix? Don’t worry ladies, we saved this one for you:
While on break in Barbados, Dr. Grooveslayer had an epiphany. What was this epiphany? This epiphany was simply a mission. The mission? To make a better, stronger groove-laying machine that will not only lay any groove imaginable, but the sheer touching of a single string on it’s neck will cause clothing to instantly be removed. Cutting his stay at Larry Flint’s summer home short, he returned to his laboratory to create the ultimate beast. Using spare parts from speakers, weapons of mass destruction, and a spare toaster oven, Pete poured the last month into creating not only the baddest ass bass ever played upon, but he also somehow invented a machine that not only instantly cured world hunger but solved the budget crisis as a happy residual effect.
Satisfied with his new creation, Dr. Grooveslayer returned to Larry Flynt’s summer home just in time to celebrate his monthly magazine launch.
So there’s just a smattering of the activities that all of us at City Zoo have been involved in. Yes, we are writing new stuff. Yes, we are trying to find a drummer. Whenever we have more info to give, we’ll attempt to pass it on to you. Or if we just feel the need to give away more stuff. Until then, here’s a vid we shot at our last show with The Green Genes at Whiskey Dix. We stole their drummer, Chad Clements for the night. (Again, thanks Chad!) It’s our newest song so far called Something You Love to Hate.
If you’re diggin’ on this stuff and want more, look over to the right side of this page and scroll back up for links to Facebook, MySpace, YouTube, FREE MUSIC, etc, etc, etc. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>/\/\/\/\/\/\
(P.S. if you take all this stuff seriously, then I have some property in Florida you might want to look at.)
(P.P.S. Except Rory. It’s all true. That’s how he rolls.)
‘Till whenever we damn well please -
ST, NH, RC, & PC from CZ