Canadian prog-metal heroes Protest the Hero have set out across Canada headlining the annual SnoCore tour, despite the fact that the snow has already departed. Still, the core remains and PtH's lead singer Rody Walker is blogging the band's excellent adventures for Spinner.

In this third tour blog entry, the band performs in a seniors' centre, loses money on a pogo stick investment and admires a new female friend's feats of strength.

Day 7

I woke up on the bus (starting to see a trend?) to some unusual circumstances. We couldn't load into the venue until 4PM because the venue was a seniors' centre and there was a canasta tournament going on.

So we went out in search of something to do. We came across a petite little hobby store, it had but one thing of interest to us: a pogo stick.

We pogo'd the afternoon away and genuinely had a great time. However, it turns out pogo sticks are only fun for a little while, so we put it back in the package and signed it so we could raffle it off at the show.

The raffle didn't go very well -- let it suffice to say that we didn't break even and now we don't even have a pogo stick.

After the show we went to a bar called the Hose. It was a pretty good time, though at one point Luke's wallet went missing and when we found it, it was completely void of cash.

One of the fellas from Abandon All Ships stayed on our bus. He was pretty drunk and after eating the sluttiest little sandwich I have ever seen, he proceeded to vomit everywhere. He literally tossed his cookies into a bag of cookies.

Day 8

I woke feeling strange this morning -- maybe it was the ridiculous amount of booze I've been consuming recently or maybe it was the submarine sandwich prepared by the disgruntled employee. Either way, something was wrong and I would have to wait to find out.

After soundcheck I met up with an old friend and we went to a bar under the venue for a beer and a chat -- a pint and a sing song if you will. While we were speaking we were approached by a young lady with three shots. She said "two shots for the first dudes I see" so we politely accepted the shots, and she took a seat with us. It didn't take us long to realize this girl was a little off-kilter. She showed us her jump kicks and her one arm push-ups. She told us she spoke Lebanese and proceeded to speak small fragments of Arabic.

After we politely made our exit, it was almost time to play the set. From the very instant I got on stage my stomach felt of rot. In fact, so much so that before the last two songs I excused myself from the stage to move my bowels to the rhythm of the beat. When I returned to the stage some big fat slob had my microphone and was screaming at the audience while the rest of the band hurled blunt objects at his back.

After the set I felt poorly and removed myself to the hotel where I sprayed ass all night long. I now have a burning ring of fire and a belly full of Pepto Bismol.