So cornbread tosses me a CD and says: "Hey Ralph, you think you can write about music? it says so on your blog" (which, if I might add, seems to be disappearing in to the abyss with the Twitter thing and other methods of communication, though I might be wrong).
I wanted to have said: "hey man, that would be cool, let me comment on that piece of shit CD by Elvis Costello that literally put me to sleep in the first track and kept me there for a solid 45 minutes until I pulled out of slumber right before taking out a Blockbuster Video Store at 2:00 PM Christsake. I will not write about CD's and have already indicated my knowledge of the industry.
We did get our act together on a set lately that includes a couple of (what some might consider) cliche pieces from the Blues Brothers and Chuck Berry (not the pervert years). I really don't care, because from now on I am known as "Jimmyleg" and I can now craft out my persona accordingly. This from a 2nd grade leg gyrations learned from some hip teacher back in the day.
All I can say is that Jimmyleg is real and is coming to a blues house near you as soon as we can get our friggin lead guitar playa back. Ifyouknowhatimtalkingbout.