Nancy says I should get on here and do some writing. I figure, why not? It's cheaper than therapy, right?

So, Mama Said practiced again last night and it was...what's the word I'm looking for...good. We've got a real gritty soul going on that I'm really digging on. I'm afraid I'm getting on their nerves though. Gotta be. It's just my personality. I even get on my own nerves. But hey, that's me, and I gotta be me. I'm not afraid to be me. I am, however, a little afraid to be you. I don't even know you. You could be a raving psycho for all I know. You've probably got a decomposing body in the trunk as you speed down the highway right now. And the really scary part about that? That would mean you are driving and reading this at the same time. Dangerous stuff.

But yeah, Mama Said has several new dates to be added to the calendar along with other cool things that you'll just have to wait and see. I can honestly say, if we are in your area, it would be worth your time to check us out. If I weren't in the band, and let's face it - they could fire me at any time, I would go see them. And if I could be serious for a moment, with global warming, war, and impending universal doom, don't you owe it to yourself to have a little fun?

Now to go completely off topic...

American Idol finished up this past week and the crazy grey-haired guy won. This made me realize something...American Idol sucks. Not because the CGHG won, but because AI actually hypnotized me into thinking I cared. I would never buy a CD by him or any other AI contestant. I'm probably just bummed that I have nothing else to watch on TV now.

Cell-a-phone. That's how I'm gonna start saying it. I think it's funny for some reason. I wish everyone would start saying it like that. Cell-a-phone...that's hilarious.

Well, until next time,

White Miles Davis - I'm here to help.