Get Er Done Part Deux: Banff

From the moment we got in the car, I knew Banff was going to take us places we might not fully bounce back from.

Don’t let this down tempo photo fool you, them party animals are just recharging their batteries for the later on.

Having just been through a Halloween extravaganza, Aurora nightclub (which, by the way was no shit box either, it was quite the classy joint) had all kinds of fun costume accessories left for dead by their owners. And thus, we found new and interesting ways to terrorize Kenzie-on-a-stick.

Oh yeah, and here’s Mandeep with the same toilet bit.

Let it be noted that once again, Wax Romeo got so drunk during his opening set that he played 150 songs in an hour, including the roughest mix of Tears For Fears into Michael Jackson that I have ever witnessed. We let it slide because he also played some of the sexiest disco tracks known to man.

As part of my white-knuckled fear of Whitehorse, I brought a snow suit with me. Turns out, it’s damn handy if we need to walk more than five feet to the venue from the hotel, or for light box podium dancing.

What is with ONLY the ski towns getting the rider right? Are you big city folk just so bloated on your cool factor that you can’t get it together to get some bitches the assorted gum the asked for on the rider? Might be a good time to note that all you fuckers DID sign a contract.

And who might be the guy who sorted the rider out? This fine gentleman right here.

His name is Mendleman, like Cher, it’s just the one name. This photo was taken right after he defended our honor with some meathead snowboard (an Aussie most likely) jock. That mark is where he got stepped on (just a guess).

I also wanted to include a little photo of the top dogs in Banff. The guys still wearing their herp-infested Halloween costumes get all the poon in Banff. How can you tell? Only a man totally full of his own ego would make such an ass out of himself for no apparent reason. Side note: their third amigo is the one that fought with Mendleman. Figures.

The only difference between me and those boys though is that when I put on this suit, I make gold records.

Back at the ranch, the party was poppin’. Kenzie was back up dancing with that look of hers that just screams “party towns”!

The crowd in Banff was proper fit. Sorry Toronto, with your boring sheep-like stares, Montreal, you spoiled brats, Kingston’s constant gangster rap requests, the West has been keeping it skin tight all night. Edmonton knew how to start a dancefloor and Banff was tight like a virgin on prom night. We even got flashed some tits on the dancefloor.

All that just encouraged is to drink. You know how we get riled up.

Here’s a visual in case you’re having a hard time getting your mind there.

Before leaving we took some requisite nature shots of course. True to Get Er Done tour form, we fit in like dirty shirts.

P.S In case you’re keeping score, that’s Andrew MacDonald from the Montreal date. He suddenly showed up, sans mustache ready to go. He’s like fucking Michael Landon in Highway to Heaven, but without the God agenda.

On to Nelson, keep the good times comin’.