On the Dino Trail with Justin Pierre - St. Louis 11.21.09

This is not what it sounds like when doves cry.  This is, however, what it looks like at the bottom of the arch.

Groucho Marx upgrade courtesy of Hey Monday!  Honestly, this isn’t far off from how I imagine I will look within 3 months.

Reunion with Miss Beth Raebel(AKA:Roonytunes) in St. Louis.  She hugs like a champ!

I did not head the warning.  I was killed shortly after this picture was taken.  My brainless body now wanders the hillsides of whereverland in search of fresh meat and solid gold bloodwerks.

Under the arch.  Makes me nervous to even think about it.  Really?  Did you have to make it that tall?  It’s too tall.  Even B. South couldn’t handle the height.  He had to turn around and face the river.  Wish I had thought of that.

In reality it did not happen, but I like to think that B. South and I were skipping along under the arch while holding hands and this picture was taken only moments after our hands were separated.

Vintage Vinyl.  Great record store.  I played my ass off!  It was awesome!

The statue got me high.  The statue got me high. A monument of granite sent a beam into my eye.  The statue made me die.  The statue made me die.  It took my hand, it killed me and it turned me to the sky.  The stone it called to me.  And now I see the things the stone had shown to me.  A rock that spoke a word.  An animated mineral.  It can be heard.  And though I once preferred a human beings company, they pale before the monolith that towers over me.  The statue got me high.  The statue got me high.  The truth is where the sculptor’s chisel chipped away the lie.  The statue made me fry.  The statue made me fry.  My coat contained a furnace where there used to be a guy.  The stone it called to me.  And now I see the things the stone had shown to me.  A rock that spoke a word.  An animated mineral.  It can be heard.  And as the screaming fire engine’s siren filled the air, the evidence had vanished from my charred and smoking chair.  And what they found was just a statue standing where the statue got me high.  And what they found was just a statue standing where the statue got me high.  And now it is your turn.  Your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn.  The stone it calls to you.  You can’t refuse to do the things it tells you to.  And as the screaming fire engine’s siren fills the air, the evidence will vanished from your charred and smoking chair.  And what they found was just a statue standing where the statue got me high.  And what they’ll find is just a statue standing where the statue got me high.

Yes, I just typed out that entire song.  Thanks for coming out to all the events you glorious humans of St. Louis and the surrounding areas!!!  I had a true blast being awkward and crazy.  Until the future…

Next stop: Lawrence, Kansas.

-Justin.