Around about eighteen twenty five, I left tennessee very much aliiiiiiive...

Tennessee Stud is SO stuck in my head. Right after work I am going to the library to photocopy that page from the Doc Watson book which I THINK MIGHT MAYBE have his awesome picking awesomeness layed out in simple terms for a simple thing like me, and then I will spend the next two weeks practicing and practicing. I desire ice pucky. No, no, I desire playing tennessee stud all day long.

I might maybe have found a way to move in to a big house full of people. (I mean, OTHER than moving to north dakota.) Some friends of mine in a house (alas, too small a house) are having troubles finding a new roommate, so if their latest hope falls through, they might go looking for a bigger house with boy and me. A ha ha! I feel so mean, but I am secretly jinxing their roommate finding efforts so I can git me a big ol' house to live in. I say "Oh good luck, I will cross my fingers" and then I DON'T cross my fingers OR even knock on wood. THAT'S CORRECT. Hah. Anyway, if my cheap voodoo works on that and then also works to help us magically find an affordable 4+ bedroom house near the skytrain... well sir! That would be fancy cooking!

Deedle deedle dum dum deedle dee, deedle deedle dum dum deedle dee. Oh doc watson, why aren't I allowed to play guitar at work?