The die has been cast in the past month or two, and there's very little that small men like the two of us can do about it. Grown men are walking around this world speaking of absolute truths and painting themselves as shepherds of an omniscient being...God's on the bat phone to these men, and they're doing his will. Needless to say, Bill, I'm not necessarily JUST describing the new Pope. Unfortunately, the world is full of Popes of various creeds and cults, some of them disguised as guerilla units, girl scout troops, and 229 year old Democratic Republics.
But this is all rubbish Bill. At roughly 23:00 hours tomorrow, Thursday, April 28th, down at Lee's Liquor Lounge, you can give your life to Jesus, but your ASS belongs to The Gourds, from your filthy little shit hole of a town, Austin, Texas. When Jesse Dayton was here a few weeks ago, he described some of the college girls in South Austin as "lookin' like they got Don King in a headlock." The absolute truth is that these men they call Gourds might put the fear of God into a slime ball like Don King. Many of us crow about our hillbilly roots, flashing our descendance from the whiskey-runnin' wild-eyed Raley brothers of Wichita Falls; but these men live the unshaven and unwashed reality of it all.
I'm sure the acid infested hippie love-in where you grew up in Vermont had similar stories, but it's a bedrock fact that these slow-eyed, laid back, jug band types share sanguinity with my ilk. So it's no surprise that these shows are nothing less than revivals for my weary soul...and make no mistake Friedman, a lot of souls need a break right now, especially from the onslaught of presupposed and overly self-righteous predictions of damnation.
Minneapolis is a Gourds kind of town...they've been here often, but EVERY time, the sneak up on, and completely wash over a convert, leaving them senseless and confused, weeping at the thought that they've been focused on ALL THE WRONG THINGS for far too long. You know the feeling Bill; like the first time I had biscuits and gravy, with the scrambled eggs ON the biscuits, then COVERED BY the gravy, down at the Star Seeds Cafe in Austin. It was such a small thing, but it made me feel like my whole life had been a waste to that point. I mean really, why WOULDN'T you put the eggs in there?
Many people will discover where to put the eggs tomorrow night Fagelson...baptized by the music, and figuratively told, "yer all right pard, just stand up straight and grin, ain't nobody got the right to tell you what's what anymore."
Give my love to the wife, and buy that hairy little bastard of yours a straight razor, he no doubt needs to begin shaving if he's truly your son.
Colonel Erasmus Platano-Blanco
Elite Swiss Guard (ret.)