Captain Supership and myself went to Seattle, the day before the KISS Convention. KISS wuz in town a day early doing an interview on KISW (local rock station), so we wanted to be there, same az them.
Getting there iz a five and a half hour ferry ride from our Inner Harbour. Az we live on an island, we're used to takin' ferriez to Vancouver, although however, thoze are only 90 minute voyagez.

The boat to Seattle wuz an older Vancouver ferry, only it was refurbished, and the old 'All You Can Eat' buffet wuz now a lisenced lounge... bonus! On a five hour journey, the both of us had to be careful not to get to loaded, on the off chance that we might get to meet Gene and Paul later that day.

We docked in Seattle, and The Captain & I had a light glow on, but not enough to loze our composure. Our hotel wuz conveniently located between the radio station, and where the convention wuz. We checked into our room, I got the front desk to turn on our phone, then I phoned up KISW. "When'z KISS comin' in?" I asked the DJ. "They're going to be at The Stratocaster Lounge, not the station," he replied. "Then, where iz that?" I enquired. "Can't tell ya," he sez, "it's a glitzy place, and the owner doesn't want all you KISS fanz showin' up and trashin' the joint." "Damn," I'm thinkin', "somethin' ain't right. Hmmm...?"

We hung out in our room and listened to the interview. I sat at the end of my bed, lookin' out my window, seeing the city of Seattle thinkin', that may be in some way through my brainchild powers, may be, I could figure out where this Stratocaster lounge could be.

Nothing really came to me, except the realization that, az a DJ myself, we're all lyin' bastardz! So I knew the KISW guy wuz probably lying to me az well. Oh well, what are ya gonna do? We stayed and listened to the rest of the interview.

When it wuz over, KISS had to do some TV shit, so The Captain and myself decided to go down to the station and pick up some shirts and stuff. When we got there, there were two BIG black limozenez parked outside, and about 10 members of the Army: The KISS Army! ...and they knew the bullshit of The Stratocaster Lounge story. They weren't fooled, but of course we were, so we hadn't brought any of our shit with us to get signed. Before The Captain could turn around and ask me how quick I could run, I wuz already gone. Full sprint back to the hotel. Playin' a human game of Frogger in Freeway traffic. I made it. To and fro. I wuz back like I never had left.

You could see through the front windowz of KISW, that there wuz a mezzanine floor above the lobby area, with bright lights shining from it. "Television cameraz. The Strato-f**kin-caster Lounge," I said out of breath, az I leaned forward and rested my handz on my kneez.
Not two secondz later, Gene Simmons peaked hiz head out over top of the mezzanine wall. "It's Gene!" we all point. Son of a bitch!

A coupla minutes pass, two security guys came out the door, then alas, so did they. This one girl starts freakin' out so bad, she starts to cry! I'm completely blown away, to the point where I can't even speak. I walked over to Bruce Kulic and Eric Singer and said, "Man, I can't even handle thoze two! How are you guy'z doin'?" I shook their handz and turned to see The Captain talkin' with Gene... The Demon! How cool iz that!?

The least I could do wuz get a couple of photoz, so I did. Az they were getting into the limoz to leave, I finally broke the ice, "Gene!" I yelled. He stopped, looked and said, "Yeah?" I froze. I tried to say my bit. "You... uh... me, 17 yearz... uh?" I couldn't find the wordz, so I stuck out my hand, and he shook it. He got in the car, and they left. "Fuckin' cool!" I stared at my right hand.

Back at the hotel, we wuz happy mother f**kerz. In celebration of our brush with fame, we went to get a drink at the local noody bar. (Gotta take in the sights right!?)

Conveniently enough, located directly across the street from our hotel wuz The Razamanaz. Noody Central... or so we thought.

It cost us 5 bux to get in, but only after the door guy told us, "If you end up taking one of the girlz home, be sure to tip your waitress." (This could be interesting.)

We're seated about 20 feet from the stage, and I'm glad we were that far away. Cuz there wuz some BIG cheezy ass shakin' up a storm on stage... yikes! Since there wuzn't any alcohol served in the place, I ordered an Orange Juice, and The Capt'n a Coca Cola. It cost me 10 bux for the two small glassez!

There were girlz (and I use that word lightly) everywhere in this bar, asking us if we wanted table or lap dancez. Now none of theze women were really attractive, so we weren't buyin' shit from them! Then I then saw this attractive young girl prowling 'round bar. So az a good man, I flagged her over to our table to ask a few questionz. Curiosity wuz killin' this catman!

She sat down with us, and we started talkin' about the bizness of Erotic Exotica. After a few minutes, she sez to me, "I hafta get you to buy me a drink if you want me to stay here with you." She continuez, "It's part of my job. I'll get a ticket that I can cash in at the end of the night." Once again, az a decent human, I'm all for it, so I called the waitress over. "We'll get the young lady a drink pleaze." The waitress looks at the girl, "A single or a double?" And I'm thinkin' "single or double?" The girl sez, "Double," and when the waitress came back, I hadta pay 10 bux for a fuckin' Sprite! It'sd bin 10 minutes now, and with tip, I'd spent 33 American dollarz! That's like 50 Canadian bux! F**k that shit! Fat naked women? No fricken way! We finished our watered-down, over-priced-with-a-bad-view drinks, and left shortly after that.

The next day, we were up bright and early for the full day of KISS we had coming our way. It wuz to be concluded with a meet and greet session with the band themselves! This time I'd get some signatures, and may be, just may be, I'd have the ability to say my piece to one of them.

Twuz an awesome day! We got to see KISStory right in front of our naked, steaming eyez. Also learned that two dayz earlier in L.A., Peter showed up and actually sang a tune with them! Holy f**kin' goose-bumps man!

They performed requests from the crowd, along with fan favourites. It was like an Elementary School assembly, with all of us sitting cross-legged on the floor, and they were the teacherz!

After an hour of playing, they took off their guitarz and started to sign everyone's stuff. It wuz a free for all, storm the stage kinda thing, and I gradually made my way up to the front. It wuz an hour of perserverence, but I finally got up there. All the while, I wuz noticing that nobody wauz really talking to them. Only callin' out their namez, or sayin'stuff like, "I love you!" or "Can I take a picture?" So I'm thinkin', "Fuck this! I gotta talk to God!"

I managed to hand Paul Stanley my KISS Destroyer poster for a much anticipated autograph, and I mustered up enough power within myself to say my bit:
"Paul... you have been a part of my life since I wuz 5 years old," and he said, "Cool!" az he finished off hi signature for me. Then I concluded by sayin', "And I have to thank you for everything that you have given me over the yearz." That is when he looked down at me, made eye contact, pushed the other people'z handz out of the way, reached out, shook my mine, and said, "Thank you!"

Definitely wuz one of thoze moments that made life even better for me. I tell ya, we got so pisst drunk on the ferry ride home the next day, it wuz a miracle they let us back in the country! There wuz a time, when after around eleven or twelve beerz, I had to kindly excuse myself to the boyz room for some undercover vomitting. I wuz hugging the toilet az if I wuz at a Junior High Scool dance during a love song! I managed to get back to our table, with complete control of the situation I might ad, when I noticed that our drinks were no longer there. I'm slurred when I said, "Cap'm, where'z our drinks man?!" He then told me, "They fell off the table when they were doing thoze emergency excercizez man!" Not having a clue what he wuz talkin' about, I said, "What'ya talkin' about?!" Then he sez, "what'ya mean, what'ya talkin' about? They stopped the boat and made an announcement that they had some routine emergency drillz to do. Then they dumped the boat on a 45 degree angle to the right. I fell outta my seat, the beerz hit the floor, and when I got up yellin' that they shouldn't do that on a boat with a bar, they then dumped the boat other way 45 degreez, and I fell again!" He then asked me, "Where the hell were you if you didn't feel that!?" I hadta tell him, "I wuz on the floor of the washroom man!"

When we finally made it back to our home n' native land, I thought I wuz James f**kin' Bond! We were at the dock, and there wuz a massive line up of people waiting to go through Customz. I looked across the aisle, and what did I see? A briefcase, and no one wuz touching the damn thing! Now I watched this for awhile, and I'm thinkin' to myself, "It's gotta be fulla cash! I'm gonna grab it!" No shit man, the James Bond theme starts playin' in my head, I started walkin' and in stride grabbed the handle of the mysterious briefcase. "Hey! That's my bag!" a voice shouts at me az I felt a tug on my arm. "Where do you think you're going with that?" this woman asks me. I couldn't even see her, I was that blind drunk. I just shrugged my shoulderz az I let go of the bag n' said, "Lost n' Found man." Shit I wuz smooth.

I don't even remember goin' through Customz. How I got through, I do not know? I just recall foaming at the mouth, trying not to puke in my brother'z car when he magically showed up to give me a ride home. Hell of a trip.