Tuesday Night

I tell you what, you low grade humanoids, the festivals have begun. We spent tonight at Beauty Bar (Booty Bar) and had some free drinks. Women groped us; Men admired our suits. And right now, back at home I am enjoying myself. I cooked some frozen pizza and I found some hot sauce in the pantry that had gone unnoticed for quite some time. Also, I put some extra craft cheese singles on my pizza before cooking it. The concoction tastes great. Yum Yum. We did a Woxy radio show a couple of days ago, maybe yesterday. That was some squirting fun. 

Brett met a fellow from Spinto Band, a nice guy. Trav showed off his ass (legendary amongst Southwestern alumni) and I drank some PBR's. Indie girls just make me feel like dirt. I sweare= I could be Obama and still feel inadequate around them. The way they dress, the hair! Damn them! And Damn an Indie Band! (upcoming lyric) I am looking for something more dangerous. See you tomorrow! SXSW motherfuckers.

SXSW Begins

Hey Earthlings,

It's SXSW Week. If you're in Austin, you'll see us. We're the ones in the spacesuits.

- B

Relaxation

I've been searching for the proper inspiration and now I have it. Jenny Wright in Near Dark. I sure do love her. And this is different. Real, true, and deep love. But I have to wonder - would she have spared me too? 

Now she's 46. I did the math on my macbook using the dashboard calculator, so I'm sure it is correct.

You know what else is really getting under my skin? These soap commercials are getting on my nerves. Who would want a million tiny women shooting up their nose, tangled in their hair and generally running wild? Not only in the realm of skyscrapers and pastoral landscapes but on a nano level, bent on fulfilling a set of prophecies at the expense of their well-being? 

I don't use body wash. No one who uses that crap has anything to wash off. They're just grooming out of habit, like a cat. Soap is the key, the good old easy effective stuff. If you're really dirty though, like maybe if you got some kind of powerful glue on your fingers, you can use paint thinner or anti-bacterial kitchen cleaner - that'll take it right off.

Back from tour now, as Brett mentioned. I've pulled through the usual bout of dark depression fairly well; This time I knew it was coming. I want to rest, but I'm used to moving. I feel angry when I rest, angry at myself. That reminds of my original intention here. 

When you return, you tell yourself to relax. For some, that means blowing off steam. But for touring persons, this compulsion only serves to elongate the sensation of loneliness, touring. Relaxation is the opposite of what strains us. Returning home means fitness, exercise. It means doing your best not to speak. Every night out there, the tourer puts something out and takes something in. He or she blasts all this stuff on stage every night, right out there for someone or anyone who cares. They do this for an hour or thirty minutes. Then, the touring person takes things in: complements, who cares, and alcohol. The mind and the mouth are two-way sets of nozzles designed to send and receive information all night. That's the work. Not so much physical, more the speaking and receiving, living for extended periods of time with another body near.

Relaxation is not speaking. Relaxation is storing that precious energy up once again. It is sweating, staring at walls, and playing with fallen tree branches. Very nice things. 

The Frontier Brothers Custom Boots

Custom spec Ostrich Frontier Brothers boots courtesy of Luskey's Western Wear (Fort Worth, Texas).

Must blog. Must blog.

Hey Earthlings,

Sorry for our absence- the tour ended and..well..we're exhausted. Here's the good news: I've got some stellar content planned for the site this week so keep tuning in (don't forget to comment).

- Brett