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The High Tolerance Tour

Originally released in July of 2023, "The High Tolerance Tour" zine captures all the chaos of a west coast tour through the Pacific Northwest. Take a ride with French Mouth and Hurt Hawks and bear witness to all the dangerous and wild happenings...

"The High Tolerance" Zine written by Daniel Franklin

Illustrated by: Dee Frank

7 Chapters:
"Suicide Drive"
"Spontaneous Combustion & Final Thoughts"

35 pages

9908 characters

20 illustrations

100+ hours of inspired work

Release Date: July 2023

*OUT OF PRINT - Read excerpts below*

ꚚDigital copies (.pdf version) of "The High Tolerance Zine" are available for $1.00 upon request. Venmo @mrhero27 and include your email. A copy will be sent to you when the payment is received.Ꚛ
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Tour Journal 1


A fifteen-passenger van pulled up in front of my home during the early  morning hours on March 1, 2023. It was still dark outside, so I wouldn’t have  noticed its sudden arrival if it wasn’t for the screeching brakes and uniformed  marching that followed. A line of heavy boots raced up my driveway before I had a chance to rub the crust from my sleepy eyes. For an all too brief second,  I considered going to back to sleep, but I knew this was real - ‘they’ we’re coming for me! I knew because ‘they’ had told me the day before.

What started as a joke (or perhaps a promise in hindsight) had turned into a twisted reality, I now realized. A cadre of musicians were in desperate need, and I was their saving grace, a missing cog in the machine. Never mind the 
lack of a definitive answer from my end. I was so enthralled with their debacle  that I failed to say anything at all when they requested my drumming services  for an upcoming tour. The quick successions of winks and hearty laughs that  followed was a matter of comedic effect, at least that’s what I thought. I never  would have considered that these goons take my sarcasm to mean: YES, I’LL GO ON TOUR WITH YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE

Tour Journal 2


Dear mother,

I am documenting this disastrous road trip in the event anything terrible happens. Of course, this is truly a kidnapping, but I would never oust my friends to the authorities. They’re musicians, so naturally they’re the strange, DIY type…I suppose if I look at from a different perspective, I’m just a part of their DIY-plan. If I play my cards right, I should be able to make it off this tour in one piece.

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Tour Journal 3




Apologies for my late reply, but I’ve lost track of the days. Has the tour just started, or is it nearly ending? All the time on the road bleeds into each other, turning into one long giant amalgamation of color, screeching, and endless driving. It’s been said that time flies when you’re having fun, so if I am being the least bit honest with myself, I’m having one of the best times of my life, and time is irrelevant at this point

Tour Journal 4


To whom it may concern, Day two in Oregon we ventured to Eugene, a smaller city approximately 100 miles south of Portland. We managed to book ourselves at the infamous John Henry’s bar for an ‘anniversary show’ that was supposed to be rather intense. After the initial booking, there was very little contact with the promotor, Dee explained to me, so we approached the date with a err of caution, and rightfully so as it turned out. The promotor had double-booked the date/event with a whole other lineup of bands. A miscommunication, some type of lapse of judgement, a headache in a handbasket – whatever it was, the dueling gigs were posed to cancel each other out. All of the bands refused to drop the date, so in an effort to salvage everything, the booker simply combined the two shows into one giant lineup.

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Tour Journal 5


The zombies in Oregon have infected me with their strangeness and love of the arts. I’ve left the pine-surrounded city with an epic yearning and desire in my heart. How could I enjoy a city that’s so odd? My past-self would answer that question with a nuanced answer, but the new me accepts things as they are, and that includes the weirdos in Oregon. They loved us, so we loved them harder. And by the ‘us,’ I am speaking of the band of which I am officially a part of: French Mouth.

Tour Journal 6

Suicide Drive

In the early morning hours before the sun starts to rise, when everything is tinted a dark blue, and the sky is host to ominous black clouds, there is an eerie silence that settles like no other. While the world continues to rotate on its axis, and the sky shifts above me, everything slowly fades into silence as the open roads ahead turns into an endless stretch of nothingness, swallowing psyche whole as eyes flutter from tiredness. The hypnotic state is only broken by the ramblings of my assistant driver, Brandon. He points to the pendulant black clouds outside, completely swelled with water, ready to pour down on us at any second. Inside the van, our mouths expressed tiny breaths of steam as we spoke in low, hushed voices as not to wake the others in the rear of the vehicle. It was 0400 when the van pulled over for gas, and I was tasked as the next driver with Brandon as my road dog. Dee and Jacque, haggard and beat from their own driving shifts from Washington, gladly gave up their roles, and made their way quietly to the backseat for some much-needed rest.


Tour Journal 7

Spontaneous Combustion and Final Thoughts

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The last hour in the belly of Jerry’s Pizza [underground], after Hurt Hawks had finished playing, I remember sitting in the green room with the boys in French Mouth, staring at the red brick walls, which were nearly painted over in multi-color scrawl of various band names (including ours). In that very moment I knew that I had accomplished something great. These moments are few and far between for someone like me – a product of my upbringing – so I’ve learned to hold onto them as tightly as possible when they do occur, making a conscious effort to feel everything: the dankness of the cluttered green room, the sticky beer-stained floor, my brothers (Dee’s) eye shadow and OD-green shorts, Jacque’s ability to forever shred with extreme precision, Brandon’s humble demeanor throughout the entire tour, Hurt Hawk’s dedication to his performance art and the boldness he exudes, the talented musicians in Mommy Mommy and friendship they extended...

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