Destroy Everything - Saturday, April 14th

Kiev, Ukraine

We landed at 7 am Ukrainian time, which is midnight EST. We had to wait in a sketchy customs line and fill out a sketchier immigration form. It looked like it was a photocopy of a photocopy. None of us filled it out right, and the Ivan Drago looking dude behind the glass wasn’t too thrilled. We eventually made it through and were greeted by the promoters of the EXTREME POWER FESTIVAL which we would be playing the next day.

They drove us through the heart of Kiev and dropped us off at our hotel. We each got our own room which was furnished with amazing Three’s Company décor. I tried to watch TV, but everything was obviously in a language I couldn’t begin to comprehend. Flipping through the channels, I heard someone singing in English. It was actually a Robbie Williams video, but it wasn’t even the one where he tears his own flesh off, which made it not worth watching.

I eventually fell asleep and got up 7 hours later. I wandered into the hotel lobby and met Matt, and Wayne. They were planning on going to a local restaurant that was feeding all the bands on the festival. Sean’s room was the only room number that I could remember, but I wasn’t even sure if I was remembering it correctly. I didn’t think we should leave without him, so I went up to what I thought was his room and lightly knocked. Then I lightly knocked again, and again. I heard a grumbled “What the fuck!” and contemplated running down the hallway. I realized that it might have been better if I would have knocked on a door and had some gigantic sketchy Ukrainian come out, rather than an angered Sean Martin. When isn’t Sean Martin angered? He came to the door, and I asked him if he was sleeping. He said, “No, Kent the lights are just off and I’m wide a’fucking’wake.” I was still tempted to run down the hall at this point, but Sean decided to spare me on this day, and agreed to come to eat with us after he and I discussed how cool Redman is at age 37.

Our Ukranian escorts, not hookers; just dudes who worked at the show, walked us to the restaurant. One of them had a video camera and just was candidly videotaping us. I understand what he was trying to do, but it truly didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. Thankfully Sean yelled at the guy and he shut it off.

REAL escorts actually approached us in the restaurant, but we politely declined.

I made it back to my room and stayed up ALL night. It got pretty fucking boring in there, especially because I was watching CNN Worlwide for at least 5 hours straight. I can’t believe Prince William dumped his girlfriend. The media ruins another relationship. The only English people I really care about are S.A.S. (amazing in State Property 2), Posh Spice, David Beckham, and Katie “Jordan” Price, who is knocked up right now and looking like a blimp.