There is a lot of funny in this thread, but the pathos of these two moments made me lol indeed:jayryan wrote:both bands were enticed back to the place by promises of being able to swim in their pool. we get to this barn-looking building way out in the woods, and there IS a pool, but it appears to be filled with chocolate milk.feelitclosingin wrote:when we realized that the cat under the rocking chair in the corner was in fact dead, some of us decided to sleep in the van.Also, Ty-Lot recently told me an excellent story about bizarre accommodation. I hope he shares!I think I have already told most of my weird tour accommodation stories but here's one that springs to mind from my childhood:I must have been about 9 or 10, and had recently made friends at school with a kid called Paul (united by a common passion for the unfolding events of Italia 90, I believe). Seemingly impressed by the fact that Paul finally had made a friend, his mum invited me to sleep over one weekend. Upon arrival I am given the "house tour". Particular detail is paid to the bathroom rules. I must not use more than one sheet of toilet paper after defecation. And I must bathe before bed with Paul and his two brothers.I was a headstrong child, and when presented with a bath full of Paul and his two brothers, one of whom was aged around 15 and was thoroughly pubescent, I refused to join in. This caused no little tension, but not quite as much as my actions later.We were sent to bed at 8.30, after Blind Date. I think I got there about 6, so the entire evening programme consisted of a communal bath with teenage boys I did not know, some bad pizza, and Blind Date. After every lame sexual innuendo made by a contestant, Paul's mother and father exchanged glances and "oo-err missus"-ed and guffawed in a way which made me feel thoroughly uncomfortable.In the morning I needed a shit. Throwing caution to the wind, I casually wiped my arse using as many sheets of toilet paper as I goddamn liked.Upon descending for breakfast, I was greeted by the sight of Paul's dad, naked except for a dressing gown. He was reading The News Of The World with his legs spread wide, casually scratching his cock and balls which were on very public display.Needless to say, I was by now desperate to leave. Whilst praying for my mum to hurry up and get here, I was confronted by the seething vision of Paul's mother, incandescent with rage that I had used more than one sheet of toilet paper to wipe my arse with. I didn't attempt to defend myself - by now, I was a broken child. Also, I was somewhat concerned by the fact that presumably this woman has a toilet paper inventory check involving a full sheet count several times daily.Needless to say I never took them up on their offer to come back.

Kate Rev wrote:Incredible story.The best tour weirdness story I ever heard was from Fred from Zero Tolerance Task Force (now deceased, RIP Freddy), when they were in I believe Dubuque. The band MORE FUCKED TANGENT: More Fucked. The lyrics! "I sucked my drummer's dick last night, smell of the ass turns me on, a few good men is hard to find, ass so tight but not well hung! Small dick big balls! Hung like a spider! Big dick little dick! Sick sick sick sick sick sick sick"The band MORE FUCKED played with ZTTF, and after the house show, Fred was trying to pass out in a corner of the putrid basement, when the members of More Fucked approached him and said "Do you want the butt?"Fred said, "what?""Do you want the butt?""What is it?""Do you want the butt?"At this point he thought maybe they were talking about drugs and he did indeed want whatever drugs they had, and he got the impression that if he said no he'd never find out."yeah Ok", Fred said.The members of MORE FUCKED, who were standing surrounding Fred while he was seated in the corner of the basement, then turned around and dropped their pants and proceeded to smother him in the face with their butts. His recourse was to kick and punch out their knees until they fell!"I did not want the butt," said Fred, chuckling.He also stayed with a bunch of cats who shot up whiskey. Youtube video n all. Rip dad freddy doobers

few years ago i moved to the east coast and one of the first places i stayed while i worked was with this middle age couple i found on craigs, looking to rent out a room for 400. his sizable wife had recently undergone brain cancer surgery and had a lazy eye. i dont know if her mild retardation also had anything to do with the surgery. he was this silver haired, highstrung, overtalkative nunce that constantly patronized and tried to make out like we were buddies with things in common. i cant stand when people do this. but on top of that he would be watching porn at the living room computer on the regular.. and repeatedly suggested i have a go at his wife.. eventually he offered to buy beer and spend an evening hanging out. having nowhere else to be and being a lover of free beer i had no complaints. but then learned he had had his heart set on renting the room to, uh, how to put.. was dead set on more sex stuff and then later embraced me and said he wanted to give me head.frick no! was out the next day. never tried finding housing on craigs since. people are gross.then was the time i lived with my dad and his then unbeknownst to me gay lover. they never said a word about it, but then i heard something. something.. a couple months after i moved in... and fuuuuuuu. gone that same day.

Nothing that holds a candle to the other posts here. I once stayed at a friends' place and was hanging out in the living room when his roommate came in and sat with us. Over the course of maybe an hour became increasingly erratic and confrontational about everything... just being a complete dick, giving us shit for every benign thing we were saying (which consisted of I don't know, watching TV and observing things), and on top of that throwing in some weird conspiracy theory gibberish. I remember him leaving at one point only to return an get in my face asking if I'd been talking to my friend in private about what an asshole he was being. It was really bizarre. It seemed he really wanted us to fight him. My friend and I left the living room and spent the rest of the night away from crazy roommate in my friend's room. The next morning we go upstairs to find the roommate had cooked us a massive breakfast, which he must've been working on for a long while, I guess as a sort of apology. He was perfectly pleasant and grounded and none of us mentioned the night before. He was very into the Rollins Band. And I'm assuming also suffering from bi-polar disorder.

While traveling through Thailand, my wife and I booked a room close to an airport that we needed to fly out of a couple of days later. When we got to the address, we thought we were in the wrong place--inside the glass door of what seemed to be a store front in a largely abandoned shopping center in the middle of nowhere, we see a large shirtless fanny-packed dude sleeping on a couch next to a video game controller. The walls were covered in the most cliche American college dude posters--pot leaf, Bob Marley, hot cars, babes, etc. We knocked on the door, dude takes a long stretch and comes to the door. He doesn't speak English and we only know basic Thai, so we point to the "luxury hotel" as it was labeled online, on my phone, dude shakes his head and conveys that we were in the right place. Dude brings us to our room, which is basically just another storefront, with a large metal fence covering the entrance that could be unlocked. Room was fine by us, it had air conditioning and a bathroom. The dude said that his "hotel" had a shuttle service that could take us anywhere we needed to go. When we would later on talk to him about getting a ride, he said he'd arrange it and to wait outside. Of course, the dude himself pulls up around the corner five minutes later in his sedan and gives us a thumbs up--"READY!". In the next couple of days, we put it together than the few remaining restaurants and stores in the complex were all members of his family--older daughters, grandparents, parents. They were all incredibly friendly. There was a lot of adorable stray dogs and cats all over the place as well. The night before we were leaving, we asked if he could give us a ride to the airport in the morning, which he said of course. The next morning, we go to his apartment and knock on the door. His wife came out and told us he was at work and sorry that he'd forgotten but she'd try to get someone else to come pick us up and give us a ride.We waited outside for a bit and considered walking the couple of miles to the airport because if nobody showed we were going to miss the flight. Just as we're about to go back in and tell the lady that we didn't need a ride, an SUV screeches into the parking lot and stops right in front of us. There's a guy in some sort of uniform driving and I shouted "AIRPORT?" He said "YES! GET IN." I asked "HOW MUCH FOR THE RIDE?" and he shouted "FREE!"We get in to find that it's actually her husband, the same dude that owns the place, in a different car. We'd only seen him shirtless with his fanny pack any time we'd talked to him before so we didn't notice him at first because he's in a fucking pilot's uniform. The guy, in addition to running his sort of hostel, is also a pilot at the airport. He helps us get the bags out of the car, salutes us, and goes and parks. That guy ruled.

My old band stayed with some friends in Philly once. Mostly everyone in the house was cool and just wanted to low-key party with weed/booze/music, but for whatever reason, around 2 or 3am, one of the roommates, who was apparently a volunteer firefighter(?), calmly took a seat at the kitchen table and proceeded to take apart and clean his handgun. Everyone was bummed. I'm pretty sure the other roommates kicked him out after that.

Cancelled - That story is amazing. Hats off to you guys for rolling with it.= Justin