Lagoon Update: Not for the Squeamish, New Music, Love Down Under


Before I start this blog I want to issue a little warning. I know most of you understand that I rarely, if ever, “pull punches” in regards to what I write. I consider myself an open book, literally. However, one of the events that transpired during my trip home could quite possibly soil the image you have of me, especially for those of you who might find me attractive. So, please consider yourself duly warned, and enjoy.


8 flights of horrible stairs

            As I waited for the elevator, I recounted how embarrassed I was that I attempted to check into my hotel room at the “Gay and Lesbian Convention Registration Desk.” How was I so oblivious to my surroundings? Was it fatigue, or jet-lag, or just plain ignorance? The portly cross-dressed female that fielded my strange request for a room key politely pointed me in the right direction. And as I turned around to see a multitude of smiles beaming from these “spirited” individuals I hung my head in shame and headed to the actual lobby.
            The hotel was packed, I mean PACKED. Hence why my initial trip up to my room took at least 20 minutes. The elevator was being bounced around to each floor as friends visited other friends to partake in a friendly welcome to this year’s convention festivities. Again, my trip back down to my car took almost half an hour, and as I sat packed in my metal cage, pressed up against the wall by meaty bodies, I swore that I would take the stairs once I got my other bags.
            I struggled up the walkway from my car to the sliding glass doors. The wheels of my suitcase were sticking, my shoulders aching from carrying my guitar, and my eyes were now just little slits. By the time I got to the smooth marble floor I was already out of breath and drenched in a light spray of sweat. A large man festooned in sequined feathers on his cell phone would be the last little bit of motivation I needed to avoid that cursed elevator and walk my bags to my room.
            It took a few moments to spot the small-unmarked stairwell door. I lugged my bags, twisting and turning, then sat for a moment staring off into the endless stream of concrete steps. “8th floor…. It had to be the 8th floor,” I said calmly to myself. I positioned myself as best as I could, and with a deep breath I placed my right foot up on the first step and bore my entire weight. Then the unthinkable happened.
            In this delightful moment of strain, my body had decided to release itself. I sharted. For those who do not understand this word, it is a bodily function that works on the same principles as a nerf gun. An object, under duress and pressure, is forced out through an opening by a sudden burst of air. Though, in this case it was not a spongy ball meant for childhood fun, but rather my waste product.
             Amazingly, my first reaction was not panic. It was more of a “you have got to be kidding me.” Though short lived, the profundity of it all had assuaged the horrible nature of the situation. But, Every step I took became a meticulous task. Every time I heard any slight noise, I prayed, literally prayed, that I would remain alone in my concrete tomb. By the time I reached the 4th floor my bags felt like they were feathers. My body had warranted the situation serious enough to release a nice healthy dose of adrenalin. I reached my room relatively quickly, and after fumbling the key around in the door I finally got in. The feeling of elation and relief is something I wont soon forget, and after a few minutes of clean up, a nap, and some food I was ready greet Tucson….

(oddly, this would not be the only spontaneous eruption that happened that evening. While sitting eating a late night taco with some friends, a fight broke out. It was a rumble style 6 vs 6. Luckily everyone was really wasted and from a distance it looked to be more like dancing. Thumpy dancing)

The Show

What can I say? It was awesome. No Accidents… Yuck Yuck. In retrospect it is amazing that we all made it across the country with our gear in working order. Everything went smoothly. The set was great. No real hiccups besides a pedal malfunction. All around good times.
Here are some pictures:

View #1

View #2

Stage View

View #3


Woodie coming back to the stage
Hearing people singing our songs
Not having any logistic problems
Drinking heavily after the show


So, for the Tucson show we decided to release limited edition USB drives with 4 brand new songs on it. We had some left over so David put them up on the website. They are full of content, art, lyrics, pictures, yada yada. If you want one, I would recommend getting them now. Only ONE of the songs on the USB drive will be available on Itunes until the full album comes out (this could be months away). OOH SHIZZZ.

Check the homepage, or the last blog entry to find out how to get it:

So this goes without saying that our new single is ready and headed to Itunes. Should be a few weeks before it is posted. I will make sure to tell you all about it… oh trust me… I will tell you about it. Damn this is exciting.

Show This Friday!

 So, as it happens normally, things kinda SNEAK UP ON YOU… Halloween felt like it came out of nowhere, and so did this show. Ha. This Friday (11-06-09) Lagoon will be at Copperfields (The Down Under Pub). It is a bar located right near Fenway in downtown Boston… let me clarify a couple things. There are TWO venues at Copperfields, we will be playing downstairs, the cover is 7 dollars, there will be 4 bands, we are going on about 10:45pm or so.

 And here is another great poster by @davidtornado


Until next time…. Here is a cool picture I took on the drive to LA =P

La Cruisin

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Lagoon Update: Defining ‘Modern’ Malay Womanhood and the Messages of the Veil



Well look who finally decided to show up… Sheesh. I thought I was going to have to yank your arm. YANK.

Lets get down to business shall we?

Defining ‘Modern’ Malay womanhood… what!?

So out of boredom I googled myself. Don’t lie, I know you’ve done it, and I know that’s not the worst thing you’ve done to yourself today. Oddly enough someone with my name co-authored an article called “Defining ‘Modern’ Malay Womanhood and the  Messages of the Veil.” Pretty awesome. Lol.

So Sexy

(They really are a stunning people, aren’t they?)

         So what about BAND related stuff… well let me tell you, we’ve been doing a lot. @davidtornado has been slaving to finish up some parts as well as write some pretty awesome new stuff. The greatest thing about recording is being able to realize and bring forth all the subtle nuances. 4th song should be done very soon, then it’s off to LA for another round of lovin.

            For our Boston fans, we booked a show in November at Copperfields near Fenway on the 6th (it’s a Friday) at 11pm. We also now have a show booked at Alchemist Lounge in Jamaica Plain that following week, November 12th. I love the Alchemist shows for a few reasons; they are free, intimate setting, lots and lots and lots of drinks. Expect the string of shows to continue through the winter, we are here to warm your cockles.

        For our Arizona fans, we’ll see you in Tucson October 24th at Plush. Now that’s going to be insane!

         So, as you know, I love to making friends, networking, chatting with wonderful people such as yourself. What you thought I forgot about you? Never. I love you. Healthy love. Ok crap, totally off track.  So, a good friend of mine (@DJ_Aphrodite) is going to be putting our tunes on her internet radio show over at, it’s a really awesome program so make sure to check her out Fridays 10-12am.

“So, are you broken or just BROKE?”

         Thanks to everyone who offered me support while I had my brief stay in the hospital. Turned out to be a badly sprained shoulder, and a deep cut in my elbow, as well as a nice bruise on my hip. Better to be on the side of caution though. Time to buy a helmet; I realized how easily I could have murdered myself. Tree roots are evil.

Here are some pretty injury pictures (if you are squeamish or just a pussy I would skip this part).

Instead of going to the hospital, I thought it would be smart to just come home, wash up, take a shot of whiskey and go to bed. I woke up to blood soaked sheets. I should have gotten stitches. Alas, it was too late:


I am a little excited to watch the colors of this bruise to heal. This is on my hip bone.




So my friend Jessica told me about something fun…. Reviewing products on I know what you are thinking… “what the hell, that is not fun…” Well it is when you do fake reviews. Mwhahahah.

So the product I chose to review was a nail gun:

The Factory-Reconditioned Bostitch U/BT200K-2 5/8-Inch to 2-Inch 18 Gauge Brad Nailer

Nail This

Dear Amazon, 

         I bought the Factory-Reconditioned Bostitch Brad Nailer for my boyfriend about 2 weeks ago for his birthday. I thought it would be a funny joke because… well… I’ve been nailing Brad for a few years now. But let me tell you something, this is NOT a toy.
           Brad is a “go getter” person, and the same afternoon he went out and purchased the “air blower upper thing” you needed to power the gun. After fifteen minutes of arguing, Brad decided to use the gun to nail together a piece of unassembled IKEA furniture. I found this sort of amusing, and to be honest, it is far more stable than any dining set I’ve ever seen.
            The next morning I found that Brad had nailed every piece of clothing I own to the walls around my house. Even some kitchen appliances were suspended like hanging tree fruit from the ceiling, each one with a single nail and the cord meticulously wrapped around it. I later found a note… Yes… Nailed to the door that read, “Taking my new friend for a walk.”
              That night everything got a little worse. Just as advertised, this nail gun is WHISPER quiet. So quiet that I never heard Brad powering it up when he decided to jump on my bed and discharge nails into my pillow around my sleeping face and head. This gave me quite a fright, but Brad told me the gun had told him to do it, and that he couldn’t stop.
                In the first week of having this, we went through 4,000 dollars worth of nails. Brad was consumed, and nailed together many things he called “wigwam statues.” He said the Nailer liked them, and needed them to consume the souls of lesser men. Part of me was happy for Brad, he finally found a creative outlet, and I even brought one of the statues to a friend of mine who is an art dealer. One of his “pieces” will be on display September 22nd, at the Center Street art festival.
              Unfortunately, the good luck came to an end just a few days ago when Brad purchased 3 more Bostitch nail guns. He had planned to tape them to his feet and climb up the side our neighbor’s house. Amazingly, he  made it up about 20 feet before the air hose got caught on a tree branch and broke his spider-like stride. In frenzy, he discharged at least 200 nails in all directions shattering windows and lodging into trees as he fell to the ground. The doctor spent 4 hours later that night pulling nails from Brad’s white fleshy body.
           It is not that I wouldn’t recommend this product, for all that is happened it truly has functioned really well. I am just unsure whether or not this “reaction” is commonplace. Brad and I have since grown apart, well, relationship wise. I still visit him often and even bring him his unpowered Bostitch gun to the hospital where he will be taking his extended stay, pending a psychiatric evaluation.

-Julie Myers

Again, I really wish I was there to see this person read this. Ha. Feel free to check out the review on Amazon at: (It takes 48 hours for them to post the review, so it might not be up just yet)

Until next time kiddies….
Make sure to say hi on twitter: @lagoonband
Or find us on facebook:
Or come visit me at my home address: 1199 Yafuckingright avenue

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