For the past year, I've drug around this old, metal, luggage case from the 1800's that I drop a microphone inside and stomp on as a kick-drum of sorts. It's a front porch, hillbilly, kind of thing. I guess she got tired of the abuse and gave out on me. I can't believe it took a year for me to finally break through it. I did what I could to repair it but we'll see how long she lasts.
That show got crazy. I think because I knew 80% of the audience by name, there was a random flurry of friends and musicians joining me on stage that led to hyper displays of non-sensical debauchery all night. I dedicated songs to random guys, changed lyrics to fit old jokes and, to anyone unfamiliar with what I was referring to, I probably sounded creepier than the pope at a kindergarten graduation. My set didn't end until around 3am and the crowd was full of big breasted crazies and Megaman tattoos. Kyle was playing drums during the last song and we destroyed everything. I was beating my guitar against his drum-set, kicking his cymbals and stomping through my box harder than ever. I guess that's when I broke it. At one point, I was swinging my guitar through my legs and beating it against the broken box, before ripping off every string, one at a time and throwing the whole guitar through the back of the stage. There were wood-chips and screws all over the place. It was such a fun night. The show was out-doors and probably 100 degrees and I've never sweated so much in my life. I can't really complain; next time I go back will be in June. We'll be just as crazy and it'll be twice as humid.
We found a pair of cattle horns in Aaron's garage after the show. It really didn't take much thought before we decided to mount them to the front of my truck. Why not, eh? It seemed fitting, considering I'll be heading to Texas for four nights on Wednesday and there's nothing like fitting in. They'll love me there. The last time he and I did anything with my truck, I left with a number 3 spray painted on the side. It's a shame it's not there anymore. I'm going to miss that guy. Big Brother.
Here's a video of Kalyn and I doing, "Who Cries Over Dead Spiders" in Orlando. It was completely un-rehearsed and she didn't know the words but it turned out okay.