Gaffa renovations. Those van curtains were not made for drunk grown women. Nor was the fridge built for a door of tinnies. Nor was the broom made for limbo. Or the stove knobs for late night baked beans.
Playing hide and seek. Have you seen how big our van is? Anyone could be anywhere. It’s practically like IKEA in there. Just without the Swedish vibe.
Capitalising on finding foreign objects. For example finding a rogue hat can kill a good ten minutes while we decide a) does it have nits b) who is the owner and are they ever going to ever return c) was the owner a babe and do we want them to return d) who does it look the best on e) how many different ways can we model it while stuck in a seatbelt.
Rounding up rogue Bonds undies. And socks. And your bandmates’ (hopefully clean) undies. And socks. And trying to smuggle them into your own luggage without them seeing. Because clean undies are like fucking gold on tour.
Trying to figure out what we can make for lunch. Using all the ‘ambitious’ green things we bought at the start of tour (“We’re gonna be so healthy this tour.”) which quickly becomes “Wtf were we thinking/where’s the beer gonna go/world’s least appealing foods when dying of hangover and facing an eight hour drive.” Floppy carrot, anyone? Leaky hummus? Limp celery stick? This game quickly turns into “Who’s got reception and who can google the nearest place with hot chips the fastest?”
