So I went to see Hootie and the Blowfish Friday night, BUT to my surprise The Spin Doctors were opening for them. It was a total 90s flashback. I have to say, Hootie rocked my face off. I mean, a lot of their songs kind of sound the same, but they were all good. They had this old guy playing steel guitar and mandolin and an extra percussionist – it was good stuff. Along with their stuff they also did excellent covers of “Losing My Religion” and “You Never Even Called Me by My Name.”
Saturday was a waste. I did NOTHING all Saturday. I take that back, I did manage to tighten the A/C belt on the Mustang, and clean a couple things to get it ready to sell. However, now the A/C compressor is too close to the fan shroud and this little nubby thing on the front of it hits the shroud every once in a while. I’m going to have to loosen it all up and try again. That car is such a pain. I wish I didn’t love it so much. It would be so much easier to let it go.
Steph is back in town. Cute little Stephanie is now a PhD and raking in the big money. She let me drive her Infiniti G35 last night. I still remember back in college when she was cruising around in that ancient Toyota Corrolla with broken door handles. I’m glad she’s back in town. She was always to go-to girl when it came to hanging out or going to movies or drinking or last-minute trips to the beach, etc. Although as I remember the last trip we made to the beach was a real fiasco because she got something in her eye, and I had to stop at Wal-Mart in some Podunk town on I-45 to get eye drops for her. In true go-to style she came out to Olde City Pub last night for karaoke. Thanks Steph. The only downside is that I’ve had her Happy Gilmore, Snatch and Miss Congeniality DVDs for about 5 years, and now I’m going to have to give them back. Also, just a side note, I thought she’d be way fatter by now, but she actually looks the same. Who knew?
Sunday consisted of lawn mowing and housework. I was supposed to fix Jace’s brakes, but he got delayed at jujitsu because everyone was getting promotions. On the upside, after three years as a blue belt he finally graduated to purple yesterday. It kind of sucks that even though he’s now a deadlier fighter, he has to wear a gayer colored belt. I think after purple it actually goes to seafoam – the deadliest of the homo-colored belts.
Karaoke wasn’t too exciting Sunday night. The usual open mic crowd showed up to support Brittany, but things were winding down when I left at midnight. I think we all learned a lesson after singing until 2 a.m. the last time out. Halfway through the night the bartender started calling me “superstar.” I don’t think she was being complimentary.
It’s newsletter day today. Back to the grind.