... and I'm back.

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Originally uploaded by tjayswift.

Due to recent popular demand from certain ladies that I wear my hair down and curly, I have posted a pic to keep the peace.

Well, we DID manage to get snowed in up in Chicago over the weekend... it wasn't TOO bad, since my friends Duwayne Burnside and the Mississippi Mafia were playing at Buddy Guy's on Friday night. I went over and kicked it with them for awhile before going back to my hotel, getting proper drunk and talking naughty on the phone with whoever would answer.

Drunk dialing is bad, kids.... mmmmkay? PS- Drunk picture messaging MIGHT be even more dangerous.

Played last night at Backroom BBQ with Scott McMahan, and that went pretty well. Also doing tonight and tomorrow night at Brackins in Maryville with him, and now it's every OTHER Wednesday at Manhattan's, which is also part of the Patrick Sullivans/Manhattan's/Backroom trio of bars.

It's good to be home, and now it looks like I don't have to leave again until the new year, so I'm trying to find more trouble to get into.

Moving chronologically backwards, as I sometimes tend to do- I took Scott's wholesome ass to Hooters for the first time in his life, and showed him how the eat the living bejesus out of some wings.

Then I built a giant chicken bone pyramid just because I'm that talented. Here our server poses with it:


Yes, I know she's not exactly the hottest Hooters girl to ever exist, but you have to understand- this was at a Hooters in BFE, Tennessee. And I SWEAR that out of the 20+ girls who work at this restaurant, there are 2, maybe 3 at the most, who are remotely attractive. I always told my girlfriends that it really was about the food, and if you saw the girls at this place, you'd have no choice but to agree.

Here's my theory- the two Hooters restaurants in Knoxville make big money, so any hot girl who applies in the surrounding area is sent to one of them. The not-so-pretty ones? I can imagine the interview going something like this: "Yeeeeeeah, well, unfortunately we don't have any openings at the West Knoxville location at this time, but if you're really interested, we can probably get you a position at the Alcoa store..."

.... and so it is. The Alcoa Hooters is sorta like the B-Team. I would imagine that when one of them ponies up to get the fake boobs, she gets moved to one of the good stores. It's a jungle out there...

And now, for no reason whatsoever, I'm posting a cool pic I took of my buddy Nick at Brackins a couple of weeks ago.



Now that I think about it, I really haven't shared many pics lately, so buckle up and I'll post a few more....

here's a shot of Neal-O at the bar, who is now SINGLE again!


Whatever you do, DO NOT threw garbage here! Random deli, Lower Manhattan.


Here's me at the bar wondering, "So what EXACTLY constitutes alcoholism, anyway?"


I would imagine the answer may be something along the lines of, "When you take pictures like this because you feel that it accurately represents your life and your comfort zone."


In closing, I think I will write freeform about my feelings, King James/Shakespeare style.

Dear sweetest friend, beer,
Why must I love thou so?
Is it thy hoppy aroma,
Is it thy smooth, barley malt?
Or may it be a result of the ridiculously retarded things that I do for the entertainment and joy of others under thine merciless influence?

Nay, it must be thou pleasant grace that arrives at my disposition upon arrival at my drunken "sweet spot," which at the moment arrives somewhere between 6 to 8 of thyself, dependent, of course, upon the frequency of consumption of thine own precious self on each particular evening.

Dear sweetest friend, beer,
How I love thee.
May thou never leave my side.

-t