In response to a recent Yahoo search that somehow brought the searcher to Uncle Crappy, I did a little searching for random weather-predicting items. I didn’t do as well as HP — as much a weather freak as Uncle Crappy — who found a site pushing weather-predicting clothes pins. Never let it be said that… Read More me too, part deux.
It doesn’t seem like it was 10 years ago. The day was Aug. 9, 1995. The time, if I recall, was around 11 a.m. I had just come out of a meeting to discuss a story I had been working on. When I sat down at my desk, a musically-aware photographer we worked with came… Read More 1942-1995.
The beauty of a bar band is that on any given night, you can walk in, grab a seat in the back and for a cost of a few bottles of beer, you can see a performance that will change your life, the kind of thing that caused Jon Landau to start raving when he… Read More bovine.
To the guy who found Uncle Crappy after he did a Yahoo search last night for “I want to buy a fucking weather predicting owl” — hey, let me know if you find one. I mean, how cool would that be?
The Wife and I just got our butts kicked down in Pittsburgh tonight. Widespread Panic is the real fucking deal, boys and girls. I can’t tell you what we heard — mostly because I don’t have a clue about what they play — but it was wicked and righteous … and I’m ready for more.
I had no idea what a big freaking deal the Bassmaster Classic would be, and as a result I spent the entire weekend marveling at the spectacle. The picture here, snapped by The Wife on Sunday, is of Kevin VanDam, the dude who ended up winning the tournament and the $200,000 check that goes with… Read More holy crap.
