Drinking whiskey, long drives to shit gigs, sneaking out of hotel rooms in the morning. Ah the road. What a wonderful part of being an entertainer. Hoping for free drinks and a comped meal to take back to the motel. Debating with yourself about life choices. Am I living a dream of freedom from a boring life? Or have I failed and become a broken down version of myself that wasn’t even real to begin with? When you’re successful it’s called being an eccentric artist, when you’ve failed it’s a big hot bowl of all your faults that you’ve got to jam down your rotten yap hole every day. That’s what Bad Blake shows us, or at least tries too.