“The time we were in Germany and got booked to do a festival in Tokyo mid-tour, so the plan was to take two days off, fly to Tokyo and play the festival. We missed our connecting flight and got stuck in Frankfurt, and shuttled with a million other people to a Holiday Inn that was total chaos and overbooked, and we didn’t get a room until 2am. We barely slept, got back on the plane – no TVs, knees in your face, it was brutal – and flew what felt like a billion hours to Tokyo. We were exhausted and miserable, and then found out our gear was still in Europe. We had to borrow equipment from local artists at what turned out to be a mostly pop festival. Then I had to do an interview where the interviewer only asked about make-up, and when I begged for literally any other question, she finished by asking what I thought about other bands that wear make-up, which put me in a foul mood. I walked out into the hallway and Michael Monroe from Hanoi Rocks asked why I was so sad, and I said, ‘Fuck you, Michael Monroe,’ which remains my only interaction with him…”