Saturday, March 28, 2009


Part Two: China

Our ferry wades through the poo-water of the Shanghai docks, and the millions of sky high cranes and other giant metal really useful looking objects remind me of Terminator. I stand on the deck and although the air is full of filth and smog, the sun feels nice on my face and I picture my beautiful complexion and envision a near perfect tan blooming on my skin. The true fact of the matter is we're all looking like sea-torn pale-masters fresh off a cruise in the bay of chunks (but feeling pretty proud we made it). We dock. It's over. Yes. I bond in my fake tough older brother persona one last time with the cute chinese toddler by giving him my ipod headphones and letting him hear Lil Wayne repeat the words "fuck bitches, make money" a bunch of times. Him, and his sister share the headphones and after 10 seconds burst out laughing and run around the boat like they've been given a syringe of Jolt Cola. I think they were trying to mimic the music, or maybe I just torched their brains for life. Unsure. Anyways, the customs and immigration are a breeze. I am not asked one question, I press the button "greatly satisfied with the service" as I leave the police desk, and walk to greet our Chinese promoter/tour guides Abe, and Dan (Both Americans living in China who bring bands over for the hell of it). They are both instantly likable and no bullshit dudes and make the right first move in taking us a block from the dock to eat our first meal in China.
I guess its not hard to tell by the looks of some of us that Fucked Up love eating (and being ravers), which I will write about a lot in this diary. If you don't like to hear about food. Go read pitch fork, or whatever. I am pretty certain eating is the only thing we like doing together, although most of the times it is a huge pain to decide what we all want to eat. Damian loves fast food and would eat it for every meal if he could (although he does have good taste). Josh drinks a lot of coffee but is generally the person I will trust the most when it comes to food options. Mike's track record for good eating is pretty inconsistent at this point (like his choice in movies see: Jane Austin Book Club), and has a picky, unadventurous, vegetarian palate. Sandy eats with her bank account in mind and only that, and asks if "the coke is bottomless" at fancy restaurants (but in a lovable way, of course). Jonah knows good food, but tends to walk the path of a man trying to stay fit, a healthy road I could never fully travel. Theres too much delicious fattening food in the world that I refuse to deny. Personally, I try my best to roll with it all and luckily for Abe and Dan we all love Chinese Food. Our first meal includes pretty much what you'd expect from a chinese restaurant. Spicey beef dishes, chinese broccoli, dumplings, frog, 3.2% Beer (weeeak), and to Damian's delight 50 cent 1.5 litre bottles of Pepsi. All of this costs next to nothing and with our stomachs full we hop in cabs to catch a chartered bus which is supposed to take us to our first gig in Neijing.
Let me just say here that most of what you've heard of China is pretty much true, and the driving is no expection. I can only describe it as "NASCAR DRIVING ON COCAINE" , and we hang on for our lives as the taxi's nearly smash into every car on the road and the drivers honk at every car they pass just to like say what up, I guess? We arrive alive at the bus, which is a chartered giant yellow shady thing that seats us and 16 other people who are going to our gig 2 hours away from Shanghai. "Contest winners". Some chinese kids who laugh at us and take our pictures, and seem very nice. Some Australian, love to party, love being in a band types (are all australians like this? I think they probably are) offer us beer as we get ourselves comfortable in our seats. I can't stop staring at this one aussie kid as I try to decipher whether the flaky stuff on his mouth and nose is herpes or ex ma. I settle for exma (because he's definitely not shady enough to have herpes, although he is australian so you never know), and he hands me a candy that will "blow my mind". Turns out to be cubed beef jerky and its rank as shit and I tell him to keep it away from me forever.
We stop at a rest stop to relieve ourselves and chinese guys at the urinals do not attempt to hide the fact they are staring at my penis. No wurries, eh mate.
Eat some sugar cane which is gross, climb back in the bus only to find it won't start. Our chinese driver runs around like a 5 year old hopped up on Lil Wayne trying to fix the problem. Ripping open the floor to get to the engine, making sparks fly, and smoke rise from weird parts of the bus I didn't know existed. The 20 passengers end up pushing the bus accross the parking lot to get it started, and we all jump in the yellow bus like Little Miss Sunshine and we set off again. Pretty hilarious so far. Not sure its sunken in yet what exactly has taken place or where I am, but at least the driver has his ipod on and sings chinese pop songs in perfect falsetto for the next hour. I watch him in the mirror passionately perform the songs to himself, and I tell him I want to french kiss him (no homo) for trying so hard to fix the van and for singing so well, but of course he doesn't understand. A pat on his shoulder "Good Job" works. The Australians in the back sing Yellow Submarine (not kidding) and drown out the Falsetto Chinese Angel. By this time I have eaten a hash cookie and feeling kind of high but not in a good way I watch fireworks in the horizon to a Raekwon mixtape and fall asleep. I awake to Falsetto Phil putting gas in the bus with the engine on, and as we pull onto the highway realize the transmission's stuck in first gear. We drive 10km/h for 30 mins because "Don't worry the club is only 10km away". Abe, and Dan are cool as hell and sort us our cabs at the side of the high way which bring us to the club after a bit of the old Masturbating Nascar Driver's on Coke routine.
We're late for the gig, and pretty much walk right on stage. We're playing the equivalent to my local bar in the east end of Toronto (Jimmys RIP), except replace the leslieville weirdo's and alcholics with about 40 chinese punk kids, 5 white people, and a bar lined with what could only be Hookers. I'm pretty good at vibing places, and turns out I am right about the working girls when I ask Abe later. The show is hilarious. Kids dance like aliens, jump really high in one spot, girls blow us kisses, and babes with boyfriends get on the small stage to take pictures with us (ME). Our guitars are out of tune the entire set, and by the end Damian is covered in Ice Cream. Pretty good gig.
I hold in vomit as we get off the stage, and we all end up at Mcdonalds next door (only place close to eat [also: Hookers at Mcdonalds too]).
Dead tired, and delirious we finally check into a hotel and fall asleep.

Day 2

After 6 hours of sleep I wake up feeling pretty well rested. Abe brings Mike and I buns with vegatables and beef in them. They are delicious. Extremely clean tasting and exactly what I want. This guy is awesome, looks like Dave Byrd from Striking Distance meets Will Ferrel (Sorry Abe). Today we have a day off to explore Nanjing and at night catch an overnight train to Beijing. After failing to work the chinese television, and finding out Chelsea beat City 1-0 (lame) we leave our bags at the hotel and go for lunch. More rice, and beef dishes. Some chili beef soup type dish, which is amazing, is followed by steamed greens and some chicken that tastes funny and I push to the side. I am not really afraid of getting sick in China and plan to eat as much strange food as possible but I just can't eat certain types of meat when it doesn't taste well handled and good quality or at least bathed in flavour to mask it's decay. A fish soup is the last thing that is brought to us and Damian and I spend 10 minutes digging through bite after bite trying to find the eyes. We find them both. Tastes awesome, and makes for a good photo that will clearly get me like 30 pokes on facebook.
The next few hours are spent walking around taking photos. We take cabs (a 15 mins cab ride will cost you 3$ in china) to the Nanjing museum to find out about how the Japanese slaughtered 300,000 chinese people in 1934 but it ends up being closed so I just walk around taking photos of Chinese babies (add BEN COOK on facebook to see my entire Chinese Baby photo collection). Once I start, I can't stop. They are so cute, and they're cheeks are so big and their mothers or grandmothers seem so happy to have their baby be photographed. Also, its really easy because they are pointing at my white ass anyways as I walk by because white people "look like monkeys".
Where we are has finally started to settle into my brain, culture shock has ended for the time being, and I feel honored to be around the honest and friendly people of China (and their cute babies). Although they are very serious, and quite calm and cool you can't walk into a restaurant or walk by a group of people without waves and welcoming smiles. Of course they are also probably laughing at us because we are fat, hairy armed, and look like monkeys but still.. Great people, the Chinese.
We walk the steps of a temple, and are greeted by monks who take our picture (I think they just liked Sandy's ass) and we get a great view of Nanjing at the top. Buddhist Temples and the smell of their incense always makes me feel very calm, and grounded (Duh). Abe and I swap stories of our Kung Fu training (before "punk saved my life" I was obsessed with Kung Fu and trained at Spadina and Dundas for 3 years at a non english speaking club where they beat the shit out of me for a few weeks before realizing I was serious) and walk back down to street level. Josh wins this day for trying the most street food. We split some sort of chinese crepe type thing. Egg, flower mixture, cilantro, chilis, cooked on an extremely hot cooking stone. It's decent. We walk through the biggest out door food market I have ever seen. Mike eats Mango Steam, and dried Kiwis with rat shit on them. I watch fish get their heads chopped off, and we eat the best dumplings I have ever had (this changes later when we eat dumplings in Chang Sha)) at a hole in the wall in the middle of a crowded Nanjing apartment community. Avoiding getting killed by people on scooters, I roar at little kids who freeze wide eyed at the white monkey man then scramble away laughing. More street food, tofu cubes and pepsi shoes. We hit an internet cafe which causes my inhalers to be cocked and ready due to paint thinner fumes and too many cigs. Dudes play rpg's with flying ponys and elves (COOL), and we're finally off to the train station. More food before the train, more laughter from the staff at our clumsiness and hairy faces. Josh and Damian eat the cold chicken feet appetizers. Damian "isn't sold". I can't eat one as all I can think of is last Halloween when this sexacious shorty I know was walking around the party with a garbage bag full of them telling people to put their hands in. I almost got into two fights when people accused us of trying to spread salmonella. Most people aren't very fun, are they?
We're warned to watch out for pick pockets in the train station. No one steps to us or our pockets, and we board the train and head straight to our bunks. Tiny top level beds with 2 beds below us. 12 hours on this thing to Beijing. Jonah lies across in the bunk next to mine already deep in the steamiest steam train dreams. I pick his pocket for 5 bucks. Goodnight, sucker see you in the Maoning.

I'd like to add that today my mother posted on my facebook wall "Survivor, man". I can't tell if she's really getting into Survivor back home, or thinking her son is the shit for traveling around the world. Mental note to ask her when I get back to Toronto.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Tour Diary China Part 1: THE BOAT

In the following diary you will find the incredible story of 6 unlikely travel companions infiltrating the big red monster that is China. Ducking one of the tightest governments around to have the time of their lives, eating more food than they have ever seen and playing music for people who generally have no idea what the hell they are looking at. Fucked Up in China. Yeah, we did it. Yeah, we ate that. From dirty mattrusses to planes, boats, and buses. Around the world, now I'm back again! Thaths Whaths Up!


Part One: The Old Man & The Beef At Sea

Day One

After our only show in Tokyo, we are set to embark on our first and probably only tour of China ever. 5 shows booked by some random dude we have
never met, and the only evidence we have that he actually exists is that he friends us on Facebook two weeks before our arrival. Good enough
for me. We have no visa's to play and work in China. I bid my friends back home farewell (forever) and hope to be able to correspond with them somehow from
my jail cell in Shanghai. My voicemail greeting has also been changed, "Hello, You've reached Ben. I'm attempting to tour in China, by the time you hear this I am probably in a holding cell, I swear I didn't know it was an opium den, please leave a message". Oh, also we travel to China by boat, not plane. From Osaka to Shangai by ferry (who's penny pinching idea was this? WTF. All part of the "Adventure", yeah?). 48 hours on the rough sea. We tell this to all our new Japanese friends to which they can only respond with laughter. Not very encouraging. I drop 20$ on a "SEA-BAND" bracelet which is suppose to relieve nausea/sea sickness by accupressure. More laughter.

We somehow make it to the port in Osaka, Japan by subway. The first person we meet is a very relieved english woman that reminds me very much of my Aunt back in the UK. I talk to her for a few minutes and like us she has no idea what to expect from the next 48 hours.

After an easy flick of our passports and tickets, we are greeted by a very friendly crew who show us to our cabins. The rooms immediatly feel like jail cells (in a cool way) with 2 sets of bunk beds and a small aera to sit and watch a tv that doesn't have any channels. 3 of us to a room, plus the old chinese man who is unpacking his belongings in my room. We immediatly offend him by ignorantly trampling into the tv portion of the cabin with our disgusting, travel worn, super trendy, and absoluetely free Nikes. He screams at us in Chinese, as we realise our offense (Shoes off at the door in Asia, ALAWYS!). I can't help but tell him to "Calm his ass" and "Buddy, we have to live together, we're sorry" but he's already half way down the hall screaming at the porter to change rooms or he will throw us over board. First day in Jail. Already beefing with the inmates. Not a good sign. I make a note to watch my back and the rest of my band members closely. If I am stabbed now, I will surely miss the viewing of Star Wars they are showing tonight at 22:00 (what time is that again?). For the rest of the trip, now and then, I will lock eyes with our the old man and the beef at sea, and as he walks by me I make subtle Bird(man) calls to let him know I got eyes everywhere.

Day one ends soon after we eat our first dinner in the ferry resturant. Dirt cheap authentic chinese food! Love it. I order a bean curd dish with rice and sechwan pork, while others dig into the more obvious sweet and sour pork balls from the white boy menu. I practice saying Thank You in chinese with the magical waitress until I feel beads of sweat forming on my top lip from the embarrassment of not being able to say something so simple. I dash off as adorabley as I can, and with our stomachs full we all fall asleep early.

Note: Star Wars never got shown as the ferry decided to play Pearl Harbour not once, but TWICE through out the day. Not kidding. Good-bye Japan is right! Ka-Boom!

Day Two

3am, I awake in my cell to the echo's of screaming and sounds of bile and sweet and sour dishes from the white boy menu being hurled back up through out the ship. Jonah is at the window yelling "Here comes a big one!" as we crash through 30 foot(?) swells in the middle of East China Sea. My first reaction is of course to errupt with a mixture of laughter and groaning (I'm on a ferry in the sea in China, in what seems to be a hurricane with a punk band. Impossible? No. Hilarious? It must be!) and rip open my box of Sea-Band Braclets. Finally, I will show them my 20$ purchase was worth something. Jonah continues to run around like a child at Xmas back and forth from the outside deck to our cabin. It never takes long for him to remind everyone why he is a huge freak. It also doesn't take very long for me to start questioning the authenticity of my Sea-Band as I begin to press the plastic part of the bracelet into where ever the fuck the pressure point is supposed to 'relieve nausea' on my wrist. Five minutes later, I'm popping 2 gravel and hustling them out to the rest of the band like a cast member of OZ dishing out "tits" to the neighboring drug addicts in Emerald City. Oz was right. Jail is scary and you fear for your life, but it is also awesome.
We're all awake and figure the best thing to fight the sickness is to take the sea head-on. We all sit in chairs in the front room staring out at the horizon as the giant waves come at us in the thousands crashing into the huge window that is the only thing seperating us from our immpending death. I imagine all the traditional Japanese tattoo's with waves and oceans and ancient pictures of the gods blowing at the sea. I am literally living in my brother's japanese arm sleeve (minus my mums favourite flowers he incorperated into it to help convince her it was a good idea and convince himself he will never regret getting the tattoo because "they will always be mum's favourite flowers" [Love you, brother!]).
I watch Sandy half crying vomit into a blue plastic bag which I noticed were posted every 10 feet on board the ship when we arrived. It all makes sense now.
I eventually get back to my bunk after walking into walls and banisters on the way back to my room. I fight back the vomit as the graval starts to kick in, and fall asleep to some bullshit rap mixtape a friend in Japan emailed me. Uncle Murda - Sorry, youre hard and youre a murderer and you like to rap about it and all that cool stuff, but you aren't harder than the sea (sorry Jay Bill, not feeling him really). Shit is real.

I awake again at 7am to wooziness and nausea and the same type of hysteria that was going on a few hours earlier except this time you can see very clearly what is going on outside. Pretty much what I imagined, and saw in my graval induced dreams. Huge stormy waves of death, and Jonah without a hint of sea sickness bouncing around like a character from Mary Poppins. I swear he was on the verge of song and dance. The first time graval users all come back to The King for another hit. I keep the 2nd round free of charge, but promise myself I will hit them for cigerrettes and their digital cameras next time. I myself pop another Pink (I use aswell as sell, bad form) and fall back asleep as Jonah prances around the room asking if "Any of us chaps would join him for a scrumptious breakfast, free of charge!". go to hell.

12pm - Josh and Sandy are no where to be seen. I've seen Josh once since yesturday as he passed me in the hall earlier this morning with his little sideways smirk. "You puke?" "Yup". Well, thats two of us down. 4 left. Damian, Mike, Jonah and I attempt lunch in a completely empty resturant. "Very Brave" grunts the friendly waiter who is also visibly a little woozy. Feeling very weak and tired, I know I must get something in my system. Damian orders 2 bowls of rice, and after one bite throws his 500 Yen on the table and without losing his classic Damian extremely polite table and resturant ettiquette excuses himself to the waiter who has no fuckin' idea what he's saying and unloads in the toilet. Later, he will blame the vomit on the way Mike spit out his orange seeds. Regardless, all 3 members of Snoring Cabin have buckled. They will not be seen again for 6 hours. I manage to get a half bowl of Yudon noodles, one orange, and some tea into my stomach and to Jonah's steam punk steamboat captain glee follow him up top to the deck to get some air. I hold the railing, standing as still as possible staring in one direction at the waves and horizon hoping to god this is the best way to digest my food without it coming back up all over my ill as shit new parka. It is actually a very memorable part of the trip for me as the hypnotizing ocean calms my nerves and the dancing guido steam elf seems to have relaxed aswell. I take a moment to remember where I am, who I'm with, and how insane and amazing it is that I am here in the middle of the Chinese Sea. It is beautiful.

The rest of day is spent in our bunks with our books and ipods drifting in and out of conciousness wondering who the vomit will creep on next. Sandy hasn't eaten a thing all day, and I find myself snickering at the thought of the grumpy man who changed rooms when we boarded violently ill in the bathroom stall.
Should have stuck with the Graval-pusha decked out in Nike gear, you old bastard.

Dinner includes sauteed beef and rice, and some water (kept it safe, and avoided the chinese snails and jellyfish). Jonah goes for the giant portion of dumplings and steamed vegatables. These meals never cost more than the equivalent to 5 dollars, and the two days on the boat I spend no more than 20$. After a long day of listening to people throw up bile from their empty stomachs and keeping a surprising amount of control over my own system I fall asleep early along with my cell mates.

Day Two is finally over. We all agree it was extreme hell, except for Jonah who clearly loved every minute and Mike, continuing to never make any sense, "expected things to be a bit whackier". Whatever.

Day Three

We rise early to a very brown but calm sea. I watch the water go by on the deck in the morning sun, and the sea actually looks like chocolate. Like one of those Nestle Quick commericals but not declicious at all and mixed with a bit of urine. Lots of smog.
We all shower and dry ourselves with our bed sheets, and feel good! All hints of nausea from Day 2 are gone, thankfully.
We can see land from both sides of the boat and coast along side huge chinese fishing boats (and the occasional tiny one) and get our complimentary breakfast which includes pork buns, sweet bean buns, a half a canned peach, tea, a muffin, and a side of Spam that I wasn't about to touch. We fill out our immagration cards which aren't complicated or detailed at all (we were told to be prepared for lots of paperwork), and await our arrival into smoggy Shanghai. I pray for no asthma attacks, keepin' my inhalers close like guns! After all, we'll be on the outside soon.

Ping Pong Games Won: 12
Total Times F.U members vomited: 6
Cute chinese toddler's we wanted to kidnap: 1
Cups of green tea consumed: 38
Hours Mike was in his Bunk but "didn't sleep at all" (yea, right): 35
Hours it took for the boat to sell out of bottled water: 3
Number of Times I Kareoke'd Celine Dions song from Titanic: 0 due to Nausea
Birdman Jailhouse Gangster Bird Calls to "Old Man & The Beef At Sea": 9
Graval/"Pinks" Hustled: 4
Gravel/"Pinks" Consumed: 4 ..........Sheeeeeee-it, I done gone ate as much as I sold. Still learnin', I'll admit it.

Note: Never opt for the cheap no name brand tooth paste from the U.K. It takes no longer than 2 minutes after I brush my teeth for it to feel like someone's shat in my mouth. Finally, those dirty U.K smiles make perfect sense to me!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

I have a blog. Bummer.

I tour the world with Fucked Up. Sometimes I will write about it. I will interview funny people and mega babes. I will post about the 4 bands I play in, and when records drop. I will drop exclusives I do at my studio for download here. I will talk about food. I will post about Manchester City. Probably talk about Rap a bit. F.U Chinese tour diary on its way soon.