I'm on the edge of my iTunes account with excitement. Tomorrow's the day the Drive By Truckers' new album comes out. My presale order went through weeks ago. Now I'm near the end of my self-imposed musical journey with Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley at the wheel.
So to commemorate The Go-Go Boots eve...and at the risk of alienating 95% of my readers (roughly 6 of you total), not to mention dancing ever so close to copyright infringement...here's a lyric weave I put together from some of my favorite, more recent songs.
Everyone knew there had to be some outside thing that made this happen. Because they seemed like the perfect family. And it was them high-heeled shoes and That Wig He Made Her Wear. Laying around in bed on a Saturday morning, two daughters and a wife. Two Daughters and a Beautiful Wife. Daddy Needs a Drink to hem in his demons. But she said, "I'm too pretty to work and I'm tired of you uglying up my house, Get Downtown."
There's a big fat man on a mechanical bull in slow motion, like Debra Winger. I'm just an Opening Act and every skinny mystery gotta make it hard somehow. Sit your narrow ass down hotshot, I'll solve yours right now Birthday Boy. On The Fourth Night of my Drinking I had a built in fever and bright red cheeks, my checks and balances were up sh*t creek. Trying to hold steady on The Righteous Path, 80 miles an hour with a worn out map. It was a straight shot, all it took was luck to not get caught. I laid 3 Dimes Down and the machine wanted twenty-five cents.
And you don't know nothing when the insurance man asks questions bout what went down at the end of Goode's Field Road? I did not hate him, I still don't hate him. He was trying to kill me and I had to take him down, That Man I Shot. So Drag the Lake Charlie, Charlie drag the lake. It won't be the first time, but it might be the last.
And the younguns all turned to karoake hanging all their wishes upon disregarded stars. Dead fat or rich nobody's left to bitch about the goings on in Self Destructive Zones. The grafitti on the back stage wall gets painted over in a muted shade, and the club becomes an Old Navy, After the Scene Dies.
- HoopDawgs escaped Chickumbia just when an epic failure seemed to be our destiny. Weiszer runs down the survival that was.
- Like Daugman said, we looked like both a championship team and a rec team.
- Exile's head hurts. And MaconDawg's power poll is out. I thought his honest assessment of things so far this season pretty much summed it all up.
- Dean Legge draws on a similarity between the Carolina win and the loss to the gators.
- Let's just say you've been wanting to check out Stegeman, but just haven't pulled the trigger. Would nearly half price get you there Wednesday for the game against the Commodores? Click HERE, then enter the plural of HOOP. You're welcome.
- Jasmine James had a big game close to home to help lift the Lady Dawgs over the Rebels.
- Over at Mike's BUI, Paige introduces us to Watts Dantzler in a very nice post on a Bulldawg Legacy.
- I got some emails and comments about the James Eunice story that made the rounds last week. I agree with Bill King, it's not just a moving tribute in a tragic story. It's also one reason I'm pulling harder for Coach Richt to turn things around himself.
- The Lady Sportswriter wonders just what the hell Mark Emmert is thinking. Meanwhile, The Senator thinks the NCAA prez is way ahead of schedule in terms of embracing incompetence.
- Jadeveon Clowney finally announces today whether he's signing with Clemson or South Carolina. Meanwhile Pete Thamel and Mark Viera of the NY Times wonder if the nation's top prospect will even qualify academically.
- Lil Dooley is down another safety, indefinitely.
- I of course have no true basis for typing this, but I think Houston Nutt just enjoys beating Saban at at least one thing. How else would you explain why he keeps denying the fact that he cuts players? That's one game ol' Giggety can play with the best of them.
- Phil Steele thinks Boise State will come to the GA Dome on Labor Day weekend as the nation's #7 team.
- Smart Football ponders what is the NFL labor dispute.
- Lastly, even though I continue to fully support Paul Hewitt as head basketball coach of the North Avenue Trade School. I think even Dave Braine would admit that the time has come to eject him from more than a game.
Happy Valentines Day. If you're like me you're usually dressed in red anyway, it's just today that you add the box of chocolates under one arm and the bow and arrow in the other.
If you're also like me you've been lucky enough to find a soul mate that doesn't get too hyped up over a Hallmark holiday. Mrs. Bernie's not the kind of lady that wants a vase full of rotting flowers delivered just because the calendar says that's the tradition. No, she'd rather clank cans of PBR, kiss me on the top of the head and go upstairs to watch whatever the hell reality show is clogging up the TiVo tonight.
And it's not that she doesn't deserve a vase of tulips, a romantic card that sings Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love when you open it, a heart shaped box of milk chocolates, a pajama gram, a nice dinner downtown at a place without an unsanitary play area for the kids, a giftcard to a spa, a teddy gram, some of that $70 perfume that comes in a bottle the size of a shot glass, and a night at the opera. (Did I miss anything?) She deserves all that just for putting up with being my proofreader.
But if she ever forgets, I always like to remind her:
Good love is hard to find
Good love is hard to find
You got lucky babe,
you got lucky babe,
when I found you
No wonder he called them the Heartbreakers. Here's your fork Reader. In between bites, maybe croon a little Barry White to set the mood. Have a great Monday!