Gnawin' on a Bone

Skaggs for Skaggs
The Daily Growler penthouse offices, high atop the abandoned T&P railroad station in Monahans, Texas, are jiggin' and steppin' and sommbitch there's some two-steppers o'er thar, and some strangers hully-gullying when they should be gully jumpin', and some Texas fools tryin' to do the Paul Jones to this hillbilly...

Yo, man, we're diggin' Ricky Skaggs, the peach-cheeked, peachy keen, just plain good ole boy pickin' genius from the hills of old Kaintuck and, by God, it's too White Amurican to be true, as Elizabethan as Shakespeare, like "Black Eyed Suzie" or "How Mountain Girls Can Love." "From the hills of West Virginny came a gal named Nancy Brown/She was the finest fillie for many miles around...." That's not either of the tunes we mentioned Ricky Skaggs'a pickin' and'a grinnin but it's "She Came Rollin' Down the Mountain" and I'm sure Kaintuck Ricky knows it.

Ricky's amazin', I tell ya. He's been a star since he was a toddler, playing the mandolin with the blessing of the devil; yeah, surely Ricky went down to the crossroads early and sold his soul to old Nick himself--under that ole Kaintuck moon, that Blue Moon of Kentucky.

"The boys in the band" are hot hillbillies themselves, just good ole boys from the snake-handlin' hills who instead of masturbating they learned how to pick them guitars and mandolins and banjos and string basses and saw them fiddles and things. Bobby Hicks, an old hick, plays the fiddle on this CD we're playing, Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder Live at the Charleston Music Hall down in ole slave-selling Charleston, South Carolina.

Did you know that of the musicians in Kentucky Thunder so far only Ricky's actually from Kaintuck? Oh well, shoot, it's his band.

Most of these hillbillies are from Tennessee.

Hot damn, let's do some Handel in the Strand.

It is interesting that there are no black country western pickers or grinners--they could probably make a good livin' though it would be awfully minstrelsy since black folks gave us the African instruments, the guitar, the banjo, the mandolino, the bass, the tambourines...oh well, Or-well, as thegrowlingwolf would say (he's still missing in action, by the bye)...

We gave up on Ricky, you'll maybe be sad to hear. His shit became boring after a while. "Come on," as the creator of Brino "Long Eye" the One-Eyed Master Mind, Claus Spitt, who's sittin' here in the penthouse enjoyin' the girls, growled, "was that all one tune? I couldn't really tell. Christ, I mean, how long's that CD? Yeeeehaw!"

Little Evie Brown has NOW put on some Cecil Taylor. That'll teach 'em up in them thar Kaintuck hills. "And now, live from the Charleston Music Hall, Cecil Taylor!!!" And back from the cleaning staff comes, "Whooooo?"

"Crowd Expecting Ricky Skaggs Almost Strings Up Yankee Pianist Cecil Taylor." "He's an abomination to our Lard and Savior who gave Little Ricky his music up thar in them Kaintuck hills. Whoever this slicker'n dog shit dude is if we can't swing 'im up, at least let us run 'im out'a town on a log."

Do we sound like Don Imus? My god, what these fooltish Howard Stern-copycat deejays will do for publicity, good or bad; remember, as Stern used to say, it doesn't matter as long as it gets you ratings. Truth is, check his ratings, nobody really listens to Imus and those who do also remember include a lot of current politicians. Slick Willie Clinton used to call dear ole Imus all the time. Imus truly has no talent. He's very out of touch even with his own private parts. This is the foolish man who used to call the black girls at NBC radio "niggah gals"--and who used to work totally high on coke, one time going through the NBC offices wearing a pair of panties on his head; one time being so drunk and high they caught him pissing in the hallways. This is Imus this radio deejay who is getting national publicity right now because he called the girls of the fabulous Rutger's girls basketball team who in true Cinderella fashion went all the way to the championship game in the ladies NCAA basketball championship "street ho's," and "nappy heads" something like that; like we said, he never has thought much of black women. Look at the white trash cowgal he married. What kind'a stringy-haired skank would marry that old turkey-necked geek? Imus has been in NYC since the 70s, truth up. He one time owned a club called Imus; his taste in music included The Brooklyn Bridge--they're still hot with the geezer crowd here in NYC. [Yes, we know, we're really in Texas, really--everything is real, really it is.]

F Imus. Ignore him; he'll soon die.

We called this post "Gnawin' on a Bone" because that's kind'a what we're doing here this week, trying to avoid as many reruns as we can, though rerunning some of our past posts will be interesting now that we're getting splurges of hits these days.

[George W. Bush, our phony, never-really-elected, appointed "president," is looking even more confused these days than ever. His eyes are wandering before he makes a statement as if he's looking for cues from somebody hiding in the hills up thar maybe--who the hell knows. We watched him trying to whoop it up with some tired, flabby, fatty looking well-fed (Mexican food probably) Border Patrol officers out in Arizony-Baloney or somewhere; he's promotin' his anti-Messkin immigration policies--"Let's ship the sommbitches back to Africa...er, I mean, er at least in Texas that's what we say, I don't know if you say it that way here in Arizona, but at least in Texas we call a spade a spade--but, then I'm not here to condemn Messkins; hell no, my Pappy and I love Messkin gals--and, well, you all know about Old Jeb down there in Florida--his baby's Messkin to the bone; makes my niece part Messkin; maybe that where she gets her drug habit...er-ah, whoa, I forgot, I had a drug habit, too, didn't I? Well, dammit, folks, I got it down in Via Acuna when I was testin' out my manhood." What a piece of papier mache bullshit, right? Agree? Do we hear any Amens!

NYC Up-to-the-Minute Sports Line: Yankees are mopping up with the Minnesota Twins. Pavano pitched a damn good game. A-Rod hit another home run--that's 5 now, with 13 RBIs, greatest home run start in Yankee history. Believe it? Yanks will go to 3-3 now. Mets are back on track; tromped all over the hapless Phillies today at Shea. Hey, El Puque is acting more like old El Duque of the old Yankee days--but you can't trust El Duque--he can quickly become El Puque overnight.

Today while some of the men Growlers were bullshitting over Carta Blancas we figured out why there are so many Japanese players coming over here--getting huge salaries to come here and try to make it in American baseball. It has to do with who baseball is played for these days, rich bastards. You heard me, luxury boxes and field-level boxes are what these moguls want to fill and Japanese businessmen love baseball and they spend money like it's water and they buy blocks of seats and shit--and they...they bring big Yen to the MLB coffers, already overflowing from last year's extrasuccessful season. So we'll be seeing more and more of these mediocre Japanese players coming over--every now and then one of them sticks, like that dude in Seattle and in a way Matsui here with the Yankees, though he's suddenly so easily injured. A lot of these guys are hung on weight training since they won't let 'em slug down steroids legally like they used to and they train so strictly they tightened their muscles to an almost-breaking point. Right after Ricky Henderson started weight-training is when he started having hamstring problems. [Yankees won.]

The Sun Is Sinking and We're Driving Off Into the Sunset
Never looking back. Was that a howl we heard out there in the vast nowhere?

thestaff
for The Daily Growler

Check out the comment from Space Jesus or Whatever on yesterday's post--We like the dude--he's a Growler--he may make our Hall of Fame--concerning Jesus Cristo and the Easter Bunny.