"…and not for five minutes will I be distracted from the wonder…"

Horseless Carriage: Balderdash or Poppycock??

Uncategorized — d-ashes on June 25, 2004 at 10:52 am

Strathnavern delivers the straight dope on this weekend’s music offerings:
Excuse me, sir. Yes, you with the medicine ball. Do you like sitting in a chair? Goodness knows, I do. Do you like good music? Hey, who doesn’t? Have you ever thought about putting those two great activities together? You mean at the same time; what are you nuts? No, and there’s more. More? Yes. Imagine a chair that attracts people who want to know if you’d like another beer. No! Oh yes, my friend. Not only that, but you’re watching Barry Leach lay down chops like George Bell does carpet. Wait, let me get this straight. If I sit in a certain chair, people will not only bring me beer but play music for me? That’s right, and it only costs you the price of the beer. No cover? Nope. I can’t believe it! See for yourself at Hal & Mal’s tonight.

A full-tilt, 90 mile-an-hour, obscenity-riddled, uncivil disobedience clinic will be held this Friday night at Martin’s. The never-tiring Willie Heath Neal will be acting as host. To paraphrase Barbara Mandrell, he’s country when country isn’t cool. The kitchen staff of the Mayflower is currently fielding wagers regarding the number of intact guitar strings at show’s end. Three strings has held at 5 – 2 for several days now, while six strings climbs to an even higher 75 – 1. But the odds of his having (yet another) surefire gunslinger on lead guitar is guaranteed. That and the fact that WHN will go blue.

Ah, Belzoni. The Catfish Capitol of the World. Sister city of Yazoo City. Big brother of Silver City. Longtime friend of Inverness. Doubles partner of Tchula. No count, son of a bitch, ex-boyfriend of Satartia. Not to mention, hometown of Fat Possum’s finest, Paul Wine Jones. And this Saturday, he’s taking 49W to 49 South until in turns into Medgar Evers, a left on Woodrow Wilson, a right on State, and a left into Martin’s. Will he have a bassist? Who knows; it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I see you shake that ass.

While the Senators are indeed on the road until next weekend, this is no cause for the shakes. Let your liver do the walking. In fact, I’ve just completed a handy pamphlet that lists my top ten drinks of summer containing rum and/or grass clippings.

Strathnavern Dunkheld-Fowles IV, Esq. (Ret.)

P.S. Despite popular perception, William F. Buckley did not play bass for Blackfoot. However, he does fancy a well played oboe concerto with his Brandy Alexander.

P.P.S. Regardless of what Carl Sagan says, melonballers aren’t just for melon anymore.

P.P.P.S. I would prefer not to delve into the details, but I believe your Labrador has my cummerbund.

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