Teen Wolf is eating my fries! After the show last night, I hopped into a car with a couple of girls named Jamie and went back to Tempe to eat at an all-night diner. Both Dans and their entourages of friends, the Jamies included, wanted to hang out a while and talk. Josh, Judah, and Lauren headed back to Wendy's house to do the whole sleep thing. I had a turkey sandwich with egg and cheese. Um, nummy. There's nothing like breakfast sandwiches at 1:30 in the morning. I made it back to Wendy's between 2 and 2:30, took a shower, and went right to sleep. I slept until I woke up, whereupon my friends and I ate of the fine assortment of breakfast foods Wendy was so kind to prepare and watched Teen Wolf.

If Teen Wolf were a real-life account of actual happenings in a small town, there would have been some reporters, or at least a couple of scientists hanging around. I mean, here is living proof that werewolves exist. Isn't that amazing that a human can transform into a werewolf at will? Hair shoots out of his body! His teeth get pointy! His forehead and eyebrows puff up and throb as if there were tiny air bladders underneath his very skin! But in whatever world in which Teen Wolf takes place, all anyone is concerned about is whether or not the werewolf can lead the high school basketball team to victory. Nobody screams or runs away from the werewolf. They give him high-fives. He's the most popular beast in school. I mean, my God. If I ever saw a guy turn into a werewolf, I'd probably have some kind of religious experience and start questioning the nature of the universe. I wouldn't offer him a beer.

Phoenix is a boiling hot pit of stagnant air-magma. But it's a dry heat. Phoenix in Spring is like the San Joaquin Valley in Summer. For those of you who don't know where the San Joaquin Valley is, just take my word for it.

On our way across Arizona, we saw many large dust-devils, some the size of small tornadoes. I'm fascinated by certain weather phenomena, and the list begins with lightning and swirling vortexes. This world is full of magical wonders, kids. But there are no werewolves.

When we passed Palm Springs in Southern California, we crossed into the most disgusting smog I've ever seen. It was literally a brown cloud of thick haze, and it smelled like exhaust. It was so thick, I could almost look at the sun without hurting my eyes. We lost sight of the hills on either side of the road. Buildings only a few blocks away from the freeway disappeared into the haze. It was a scene from one of those post-apocalypse films. Los Angeles air is grody.

We pulled up to Spaceland and went inside. It was a mid-sized L.A. bar, dark, but with a good-sized stage and audience floor. The space-lounge theme was well-executed. Even their disco ball had Saturnian rings. Judah pointed out the Galaga machine, and we lost Josh. While he was searching for quarters, I hopped on and played a game, scoring only a measly 48,000 points. The joystick wasn't working, I swear. And the button wouldn't fire when I pushed it! It would wait, like, ten minutes and then shoot! Then Josh somehow got it to work for him, and he shot 160,000 points or something. Whatever. One great note about clubs and bars in California: no cigarette smoke. Frickin' yeah, buddy.

After loading in, we all ate Thai food next door with our friends Peter, Heather, and John. I had a very good Thai iced tea. Good stuff. I went to Peter and Heather's house for a few moments to put my leftover food in the fridge and to discuss the definition of "emo" with Peter and John. Apparently, the Velvet Teen is an emo band by several definitions. Fortunately, not one of us has ever cried on stage, for all you people who think that's what "being emo" is all about. When I returned to the club, I waited outside in the hopes that my sister and the rest of Tsunami Bomb might show up, since they were all down in the L.A. area recording their new album. Tsunami Bomb's managers, Paul and Andie, showed up and talked with me. They told me everybody was already inside. Just then, my sister poked her head out of the door, closely followed by Mike. I was happy to see them. I'd been away for a month, you see. On tour. With the Velvet Teen.

It also happened to be time to take the stage. So we took the stage. We rocked the house. Spaceland was packed, and over the course of our super-tight rock set, the club sold out. This being L.A., the crowd was peppered with famous faces. Jeff Buckley's mom loved our set and gave us each a guitar pick emblazoned with her son's name. Later on, Judah met and had a drink with David from "Mr. Show with Bob and David." We also saw our friend James Combs, and Julie from the band Staci Twigg showed up. In the midst of all the commotion after our set, I wanted to get some fresh air and talk to my sister and my Tsunami Bomb friends. We made our way outside, where there was a long line of people waiting to get inside. I spent the rest of the night talking happily with my sister and everybody out by the van.

Okay, this is the first show where I completely missed every single band. So, in order to do them justice, I will conduct a brief interview with my bandmates about the nature and condition of the performances.

Logan: Josh, if Teen Machine were an eighties movie, which one would they be, and why?

Josh: Oh, God.

Judah: They'd be an after-school special.

Josh: It'd be a cross between Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Garbage Pail Kids: The Movie. And why?

Logan: Wait, I'm typing that out. (types) Okay.

Josh: Is the question "why?"

Logan: Yes.

Josh: Because they're kind of like thirty-year-olds pretending they're teenagers, and they're kind of dirty, like Ridgemont High, and they're like Garbage Pail Kids 'cause they're all kind of gross in their own individual ways, and they have interesting names. That's really not very nice of me to say. (pause) And both those movies were fun, and they were kind of fun.

Logan: Okay, the next question's for you, Judah--if the Steve McDonald Group were all dogs, what kind of dogs might they be, and why in the world would you think so?

Judah: Hmmmm... I don't know.

Logan: Okay.

Josh: Yeah, use another metaphor. That one sucks, Logan. How about cereals?

Logan: Okay, which cereal would they be?

Judah: I'd say, probably a cross between Frooty Loops and Lucky Charms. Because, um, the singer was a bit "frooty," but they definitely rocked pretty hard, kind of like those rock-hard marshmallows you find in Lucky Charms. They were pretty much straight up rock-n-roll though, and the singer mentioned that one of their songs was on the Goodburger soundtrack, which didn't impress me at all. He probably shouldn't have said that. Oh yeah, plus they had the biggest audience of the night, and I think it's because the lead singer, even though he didn't have the greatest voice, touched himself on stage.

Josh: Kind of like Toucan Sam.

Judah: The last band was probably more like Cocoa Puffs, except replace Cocoa with Crack. They were definitely cuckoo.

Josh: Cracked Wheat.

Judah: Cracked-out White Trash, more like.

What followed was a barrage of random references to Michael J. Fox and his poor condition, beer-hats, and the Wolf dance.

After the show, I said my goodbyes to my sister and the T-Bomb crew, loaded the van with the guys, who looked a bit shocked and haggard from their in-club experience, and drove down to Peter and Heather's house for some good-old down-home country sleepage.

Logan