I remember waking up on the couch in the smoking lounge (usually after a deadloss gig or fudgenight) several times not quite knowing how I got there. My head would be pounding from cheap champagne and I would have to make my way down the stairs without touching the bannister for fear of injury or death. After fishing through various unidentified items in the kitchen sink, I would eventually find a mug to make a cup of tea to set me up for the challenge of crossing the pit of death in the bathroom floor. Whatever happened to Knuklz?