"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


U-G-L-Y, you ain't got no alibi...

Well, that's a shade of purple the likes of which I've never seen on my body.
There's a punching epidemic around here these days. Perhaps the product of warm weather and sexually frustrated men, fueled by alcohol. My right arm is still recovering from blacked out Eric's rampage last week, but I paid him back in spades a few days ago. Anderson, on the other hand, gave me a proper beating. We started trading licks somewhere around Eastern Nashville, by the time we got to Smithville I couldn't feel my left arm, and so much the better, because today I can. I've never encountered this strange practice before, but I have to say, it's highly entertaining. Could all-out boxing be far behind? Do I need a mouth guard?
Who'd have thought I'd be more exposed to sports in art school? Yet I, no regular fan of the sporting life, traveled to Vanderbilt yesterday for Clay and Anderson's soccer game, had my living room commandeered for the entire football season, and am now trying to write over the clamor of heated March Madness debate coming from aforementioned living room (having the only TV antenna on campus is a mixed blessing). Around here we even invent our own sports...voccer (obviously a combination of volleyball and soccer)...low-rider bike racing....bonfire jumping...drunken blacksmithing(falls under the category of x-treeeme because of the risk of bodily harm)...the delightful game of "stump" involving nails, hammers, and yes, a stump...and of course, the trading licks. For some reason or another, the latter game is always a battle of the sexes, men rarely wrestle or beat on other men around here, fostering a tremendous sense of equality among the sexes. I am beginning to acquire an acute understanding of the development of isolated cultures.
I have just been informed that the kiddie pool Jasmin brought home today is now filled, and my presence is requested for the inaugural dip. We have a trillion gallon lake, but who needs that when you can have a kiddie pool in your front yard?
Listening to: The Splendid Table/Basketball fans