It took awhile but, Goddammit, I carved the bastard.

Weekend before last, I received some crushing news. The Drive-By Truckers, the greatest band in the world, were coming to my hometown.

"Why was it bad news?," you might ask.

Well, it was bad news because the Truckers were playing The Sky Bar, downtown Auburn's newest abomination. The Sky Bar, if you don't know, used to be The Blue Room and, later, Dewey's. The only difference is that now they've taken the roof off. If you think that sounds dumb, you're right it is very dumb.

Even worse is the face that when The Sky Bar opened, there was a list; and if you weren't on the list you didn't get in. The list was comprised entirely of either people in fraternities, or people fucking people in fraternities. Even after the list phase ended, some charges of bribery were brought forth, and now they have that place on lock-down.

That said, it looked like there was no chance for me to get in. I was pissed for about three days before finally gaining acceptance that I wasn't going to get in.

Then, on the bus ride home Thursday afternoon, mere hours before the show, we passed The Sky Bar, and DBT's bus was outside. The fire was re-ignited. I was going to get in if it killed me.

I got back to the house, and called Chandler, who was just getting off of work. I told him to meet me downtown. We were going to track down the band and try to appeal to them personally.

When I got there, Chandler told me that he had just talked to Jason Isbell, and that he had put us both on the list.

It was too good to be true. It had to be. Despite my elation at the thought, I still had no expectation, whatsoever, that we would get in. I thought that either Jason wouldn't remember to put us on the list, or we'd be on the list but still not be able to get into the venue.

Chandler and I hoped for the best, and parted ways.

We met back up at my house, and went to The Sky Bar around 9:30.

After parking, we walked to the door. It was guarded by two huge jarhead meatfuck sons of bitches. We gave them our names. We were on the list. Then came the moment of truth:

"Can I see your ID's, boys?"

We handed the tallest one our IDs. He gave them a hard look, and then ushered us into the venue.

I was incredulous.

They put wristbands on us, and told us not to drink. Despite the fact that we could've gotten away with it very easily, I didn't want to risk being thrown out. I can drink at home, but I can't see DBT at home. That was my reasoning.

When we got inside, we noticed Jason Isbell sitting at the bar enjoying an Amstel Light. We thanked him endlessly for getting a couple of 19-year-olds into a 21 and up show... FOR FREE!



Jason Isbell deserves a place in the Nice Guy Hall of Fame (Let's just hope he isn't murdered by the government like all of the other nice guys).

After insisting on shaking our hands, Chandler and I chatted briefly with him about European festivals and Bonnaroo. He told us that he liked European festivals better than Bonnaroo, because he hated dealing with "a bunch of fucking hippie shit." We shared a good laugh at the expense of hippies, and then he left for the stage.

As usual, I got front row right between the two mics on the left (Patterson and Jason's mics). The Truckers came on at 11:30 or so, and opened up with "Do it Yourself" and "When the Pin Hits the Shell".

Here are the pictures:











































At one point, Jason Isbell was so fucked up that he just sort of slid offstage and into the crowd, but that didn't stop the bad ass riffing action.









DBT rocked the fuckin; house until 2 AM when they got cut off by the bar's closing. Surprisingly, they didn't play "Sink Hole" (which I've heard at every show I've been to), but they made up for it by playing a lot of rarities from their early career including "Love Like This", "Buttholeville", "Nine Bullets", "Bulldozers & Dirt", and "Zoloft".

DBT also did two excellent covers. They covered "Rebels" by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and "Let Me Roll It" by Paul McCartney & Wings.

I say this every time I see Drive-By Truckers, but it's always true, it was the best show that I've ever seen in my life.

On the way out, Caroline snagged a bad ass DBT/PBR poster (pictured at the top) from the entranceway to the women's bathroom. Thank you, Caroline.

Adam passed out on our couch last Friday night. It was a multimedia festival.



It started out simple enough; a little acrylic paint on the toenails, "The Slapmeister" written on the ankle, you know, simple.





Then things, as they tend to do, began to get out of hand.



Way out of hand.



"I Cry 96 Tears"





There is a theme emerging here.





"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away"



A Bryce reference. I like it.







Green on red.



Then we went English major on his ass.

"Is my friend hearty,
Now I am thin and pine,
And has he found to sleep in
A better bed than mine?"

Yes, lad, I lie easy,
I lie as lads would choose;
I cheer a dead man's sweetheart,
Never ask me whose."

-from "Is My Team Ploughing?"
By A.E. Housman



"When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry “ ‘weep!, ‘weep!, ‘weep”
So your chimney I sweep, and in soot I sleep."

-from "The Chimney Sweeper"
By William Blake





"Shall I Compare Thee To A Summers' Day"



One day he'll learn. Tisk, tisk.

Get it? It's a pun. You, as the reader, would say "It's about time" due to the fact that my last update was on September 9th, well over a month ago. I say "It's about time" as an excuse, or justification for my absence. "Why haven't you been updating?", you ask. "Well", I say, "It's about time. It's a matter of time. I just haven't had any, as of late, to give you your much needed, and much deserved update."

That said, I'm back.

Let's see, what have we learned since the last update?

-We learned that Adam G. + Alcohol + Automobile + Authorities x 2 is a horrible combination.

-We learned that Trent may or may not have porked a dude.

- We learned that if you ever need tons of random high school kids that you don't know to show up at your house uninvited, talk loudly about nothing, try to change the music, (Which is a BIG FUCKING MISTAKE in my house) and then leave abruptly, just call Stephanie. She's got the hook up in that department.

- Lastly, I've learned that a two year hiatus from drinking to excess makes for a glorious homecoming back into the lifestyle.

Yes, after taking an extended vacation from drinking after strangling my liver during the entirety of my junior year of high school, I've returned to the weird and wild world of over-consumption. Only now, there are no worries about having to drive anywhere, and I'm always in good company thanks to my beloved roommates.

The only thing that's really changed on this go-round aboard the liquorcoaster, is that the fun doesn't usually start until daybreak. I spend the hours leading up to that running around the apartment and making sure no one's vomiting on the carpet, passed-out/fucking in my bed, or spilling anything on my vinyl collection.

As much as I try to not give a fuck, I can't not give a fuck. It tortures me, but I play it off legit. Anyway, on to the pictures.

Being the creative minds that we are, Richard, Matt, and I feel that we need a reason to party so as to avoid feeling trite or cliche. That need has spawned some very intersting events over the past couple of weeks.

The Zombie Hipsters v. Hippie Werewolves Party



This was a very good one. Matt came up with the idea, and though there were no hippie werewolves, the hipsters, both living and undead came out in full force.



Wow! Conor and Eoghen have tremendous schlongs; and at only 40 cents in the produce section, they were a steal.













Matt "Moneybags" P.









Chad was diggin' it.





This was also the first time we had the utmost pleasure of hosting this man, evil Chandler's brother, Austin. What a nice guy, and despite his appearance, he has very good taste in music. Elvis Costello all the way.







Another reason for the party, was that this was Sean's last night in town. The next day he headed up to the ATL to attend SCAD Atlanta. It was sad to see him go, but I'm sure when it's all said and done, he'll be making more money than all of us combined. The Boognish sprays rays of fortune in his direction.









The Lost Boys were all accounted for. They pillaged and mingled as they are want to do.



Leston.

During all of the fun, Trent showed up and, after a few swills of bread juice, conjured up a situation in which the world was against him. Within only minutes of arriving, Trent grabbed a knife, went into the bathroom, and didn't come out. With Rollie and Chandler keeping vigil over him, Trent sat in the bathtub and blubbered the night away. He did, however, find the time to pen a suicide note of some description on his My Space. Though he has since taken it down, I can quote at least one line from it:

"If it is truly your wish to kill me, then I'll gladly hand you the knife."

It was also about this time that, everyone's favorite meth-heads, Preston and Cody showed up. They were not alone, however. They came with some guy who immediately sat down; started a conversation; smiling, laughing, the works; and then puked right on the porch. "Yeah, we were over at Jim's the other night, and his car wasn't working, and we really wanted tacos", and then he vomits. The fucked up part is that I was the only one who noticed, and then he tried to blame it on other people. After awhile, I finally called him out on his shit, or puke as it were, and he fessed up.

Not wanting anything more to do with the whole situation, I went into my room and tried to go to bed.



Unfortunately, all it took to open my door was a nail and one good turn of the doorknob.



After some coaxing, and another shot of sauce, I was back to normal. Also, I was thrilled to learn that pretty much everyone that I didn't know/care to see had left.



I went back out into the living room. It was there I spotted Stephanie and Conor giving each other the dough eyes.







Conor assumed the position,



and Stephanie literally jumped on the opportunity.

After what seemed like hours of carnal delectation, they finally separated.



Conor demonstrated for me what had just occurred.







After doing a victory dance, Conor had to take a breather.




(Check out Conor in the background)



It was then that the delirium set it. This is always my favorite part of the evening... when it's morning. During this time, the sun brings with it the surreal. Every sight and sound you encounter is confusing and fun. The next thought is always funnier and more fucked up than the last; and the discussions are always better, no matter what the topic.



The next day we couldn't find Conor's shoe, but it eventually turned up.



I wonder who put it up there?

Wes Anderson Characters v. Quentin Tarantino Characters



This one was even better than the last.

Richard came up with the theme, and he is to be commended.











Trent seemed to be doing a little better on this particular week, and I was glad.



He danced like it was going out of style.



Trent also brought over two giant trash bags full of popcorn. These will come back into the story later.



Holy Shit! Wick finally came to a social gathering. I was overjoyed. Ever since we shared the Pre AP/IB English 11 class together, I've been trying to get Wick to, at least, hang out with me. Granted, I have spent some time over at Ol' Harry's house with Wick and his evil doppelganger, Jake Cleveland, but Wick had never been into my world until that night. I felt like Hernando Cortes standing over the dead body of Montezuma II. I'm not sure why, exactly, but that's how I felt.



Jesus, what a pitiful specimen. If I'm not mistaken, this was the night of incident #1.



Déjà vu Con?

After awhile, I went to my room to make an attempt at sleeping if only for an hour. My plans were, however, once again thwarted as soon as everyone noticed that I was missing. Once again, breaching the locked door, they came into my room en masse. Tons of people. It was ridiculous. Can't a man get some sleep in his own house? Answer: Yes. The day after that, I went to Home Depot and bought a door knob with a key. So, suck it!

Anyway, in the midst of the Rivers' Room assembly, Matt picked up my camera off of the desk and took a few pictures:













Not bad pictures. They're a little self-centered, but coming from me that's a compliment.



Viviana, unlike Stephanie, wasn't fooled by Conor's advances and clever wiles.



The party went on for a little while after that, but eventually the inevitable occurred.



Then it was time for some zany pranks. Rollie got some ice on the ass! Ooh, Burn'd!



When this wasn't enough, Conor began agitating Rollie with our oversized frisbee. This was something Conor would come to regret.



After a significant amount of molestation, Rollie spoke not a word as he jumped up, grabbed the frisbee away from Conor, and then beat him over the head with it until the frisbee was literally broken into pieces. Surprisingly, Conor's enthusiastic cries of "Stop it!" and "Stop it, you cunt!" went unheard.



Afterwards, Conor was nonplussed.



Rollie was satisfied with the payback.



With Conor's throbbing head not weighing on his conscious in the least, Rollie quickly returned to his state of slumber.



It was around this time, just before dawn, that I broke out the other bottle of rum that I had been hiding in my closet the whole night.



Quite a bit of pestering was required, but we finally got Conor and Chad back up for round two.



Conor was so glad that we did.



We were all especially glad to be awake when we rediscovered the two giant bags of popcorn that Trent left in the parking lot.

















Conor couldn't eat anymore on his own, so I gave him a helping hand.



Also, I showed everybody this illustration from my German book. Weird stuff, I tell ya.

Obviously, we made a pretty big mess on the porch with the popcorn and what not, so Richard and I decided that we needed to clean it up before we went to bed. The only problem was that we had no broom. Still partially drunk, I caught a ride to my parent's house at 8:30 in the morning so I could get a broom and wish my dad a happy birthday. It was a low point, I admit, but I got the broom, cast forth the wishes, and got out of there.



After returning with the proper tool, we spent about 45 minutes cleaning up popcorn.



Then it was time for sleep. When we woke up it was night again. Yay!

The End.

Miscellaneous Debris

Trent has been nagging me to post these pictures for awhile. So, as a going away present, here they are:













See Matt? What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Goose = Russ, Gander = You, What = IHOP Sundae.





This is Theo. He is our favorite on again/off again IHOP server. I believe he's off again as of right now, but he'll be back on again soon. He was most recently fired from Tha 'HOP for impregnating a 17 year-old girl. That's one more kid to add to the collection. Thus far he has three children named Turtle, Hawk, and Storm.



That was a fun night.



Lastly, I took this picture in Atlanta at the MARTA station. I like it. Do you? Damn straight.

See ya in a month, folks.