My Record Player, sharks, and actuarial tables.
Corks, cans, and bottles.
Charismatic preachers, television screamers, and you.
A short instrumental written almost 20 years ago.
Here’s a Sad Bastard song written almost 20 years ago put down for posterity while sitting on my posterior.
Gramma, Grampa, and drunken rants.
My Record Player, an old guitar, and a new song.
Susan Marshall, honey mouth, and Happy Birthday, Jeff Powell!
Depression, retirement, and frustration.
Blue waters and black moonlit nights.