#willie nelson this old house

[sirsparklepants]

Read a post and didn't want to derail it but it blew open my third eye and now I'm contemplating the wonderful world of Logan doing Hick Shit, which somehow just? Did not fucking occur to me previously? Of course he does hick shit man lives up in the holler in a cabin in the woods drinking whiskey half the day. He's gotta have a still. This man has to moonshine. He absolutely hunts and smokes his own meat and treats his own furs I mean p l e a s e. Can he garden? Can he CAN???

Does he do fucking taxidermy. We think he at least tried it once right. He has to have at least tried whittling with his claws once too. And he has one of the few remaining Actual Fucking Functional As A Truck pickups out there (genuine coveted redneck resource) so please someone introduce him to mudding 🙏 I need this in my soul.

[perotovar]

JOEL'S MIX ▶ songs i could see joel listening to pre-outbreak | template

"Really, dad?" "C'mon, Sarah, this is a classic." "Classic is just code for 'old'." "You call Loretta Lynn 'old' in this house again n'you see what happens to you."

track list under the cut:

insignificance - pearl jam

gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

alone and forsaken - hank williams

down in a hole - alice in chains

flowers on the wall - the statler brothers

given to fly - pearl jam

blue bayou - linda ronstadt

rain on the scarecrow - john mellencamp

oh well (pt. 1) - fleetwood mac

coal miner's daughter - loretta lynn

a horse with no name - america, george martin

luckenbach, texas - waylon jennings, willie nelson

me and bobby mcgee - janis joplin

a boy named sue - johnny cash

i am mine - pearl jam

bad moon rising - creedence clearwater revival

when someone wants to leave - dolly parton

american remains - the highwaymen

cherry bomb - john mellencamp

folsom prison blues - johnny cash

blue eyes crying in the rain - willie nelson

indifference - pearl jam

[froody]

Man Concludes 46 Year Search For Only Working Lighter In The House

“I don’t even smoke anymore, man.” Says 67 year old Nags Head resident Greg Cox. “Finding it was like being reunited with lost loved one, it brought tears to my eyes.”

Cox has expressed interest in searching for the last joint he rolled in 1978. He states he is nearly certain he hid it in his vinyl collection and is presently scouring through his Willie Nelson albums for the artifact. “It should be in here, unless that bitch Tracy took it when she stole all my Zeppelin.”

[memories-of-ancients]

Willie Nelson is so amazing because he is 90 years old and despite being a nonagenarian he's still playing, singing, touring, and writing songs and he still hangs out and smokes pot with Snoop Dogg and every now and then they are spotted together at a Waffle House at 2:00 in the morning. How many 90 year olds do you know that does that?

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Heading into the 50th season of Saturday Night Live, fans of the show and its original cast may feel they already know all of the lore surrounding them and their iconic characters, such as how Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi took two white guys in black suits and rocketed The Blues Brothers to the top of the charts with a multi-platinum album in 1978 and a subsequent movie in 1980 that co-starred Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, and James Brown—and in doing so, revitalized the careers of those music legends. And yet, somehow, there are revelations aplenty in a new two-hour oral history, Blues Brothers: The Arc of Gratitude, debuting Thursday exclusively on Audible.

Aykroyd, now 72, narrates and presides over the retrospective, which features previously unheard audio from Belushi (who died in 1982), some of the last testimony of his widow, Judith Belushi Pisano (who died earlier this month), as well as anecdotes from Blues Brothers musical director Paul Shaffer, band members Lou Marini and Steve Jordan, plus drummer Willie Hall, Belushi’s real-life inspiration Curtis Salgado, filmmaker John Landis, and his wife, costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis.

As Belushi’s widow explains, the real origin story of The Blues Brothers involved a lot more than what we saw on screen.

“They were characters. No doubt about it,” Pisano recalls. “They were somewhat alter-egos, as well. They were sort of characters on the stage of life. It wasn’t a bit, exactly, that they ended up doing. I know that it’s often referred to The Blues Brothers as developed from a skit on Saturday Night Live, and you know, that’s really just not true. It’s not how it happened.”

From road trips to roadhouses to 30 Rock

While the Aykroyd-Belushi partnership officially began on stage in Toronto at The Second City—after which they did listen to a live blues band that very first night and share their common tastes in music—the idea for them to perform music in addition to comedy came a bit later when the duo drove cross-country. “They sort of jokingly said, let’s do a band,” Pisano recalls. Belushi, then already a star of The National Lampoon’s off-Broadway musical, Lemmings, as well as The National Lampoon Radio Hour, had recruited Aykroyd from Toronto, and he was sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the studio apartment Belushi shared with Pisano on Bleecker Street.

Belushi would get up onstage with bands in NYC or on road trips and sing the old Robert Johnson tune, “Sweet Home Chicago,” which Pisano says “was a well-known, popular, easy to play song.” Lorne Michaels saw one of Belushi’s performances and suggested he do it to warm up the studio audience at Saturday Night Live. Belushi got Aykroyd involved. Willie Nelson gave Jake and Elwood their first big break

Belushi already had befriended Willie Nelson, according to Aykroyd, and they laid out their initial concept for a blues band to Nelson backstage during his residency at The Lone Star Cafe, a former nightclub on Fifth Avenue. “Within a few minutes, Willie had agreed to lend us his band as a backup for a trial show in which Jake and Elwood would open for him,” Aykroyd says. He and Belushi learned a few songs for the gig. “The reaction was favorable, although clear that neither John nor I were conservatory-trained artists, we had a good feel for the music, and we knew how to feature an all-star band.”

Comedian Lenny Bruce helped inspire their signature look

“The wardrobe was inspired by Lenny Bruce, who always wore a dark suit, black string tie and white shirt,” Aykroyd says. “The hat and shades were meant to emulate John Lee Hooker from the photo on the cover of his album House of the Blues. It delighted us that we were compared to IRS agents, Men in Black, and the reference in the movie when Aretha Franklin says that we resemble Hasidic diamond merchants.”

“They found the stuff in thrift shops,” Pisano adds, “and then once the movie hit, they were on—you got yourself a designer, and custom-made suits before you know it.”

Enter Landis’s wife, costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis, who had outfitted Belushi’s “COLLEGE��� sweatshirt for National Lampoon’s Animal House, and later picked out the fedora and jacket for Indiana Jones, as well as Michael Jackson’s red Thriller jacket. She recalls how haphazard their early outfits looked as Jake and Elwood: “They were using any jacket and any pair of black trousers, usually didn’t match. So they were not in suits, they were unsuited. And any hat, and any tie, and any shirt, and any glasses that looked OK.”

Lorne Michaels was initially skeptical the idea would work

That their first blues song onscreen happened in their SNL “Killer Bee” costumes? Not part of the plan. “Which John hated,” Landis alleges. “And I think it was Lorne sticking it to him.” But after that performance of “I’m a King Bee” on the Jan. 17, 1976, episode, SNL’s musical director Howard Shore dubbed Aykroyd and Belushi The Blues Brothers, and they were off and running.

Belushi tasked Paul Shaffer, an original SNL house band member (and later longtime band leader for David Letterman’s late-night reign), to hire the rest of The Blues Brothers band, which originally included Shaffer on keys, Marini on sax, Al Rubin on trumpet, Tom Malone on trombone, and Steve Jordan on percussion. “I just knew I was having a better time than I ever thought I would have in my whole life,” Shaffer recalls. “Everybody was having so much fun.” And of Aykroyd and Belushi, Shaffer says: “They were explosive individually,” but together, “like a tornado, that’s what the two were like.”

Malone suggested getting Otis Redding’s guys, Steve Cropper and Duck Dunn on lead guitar and bass to fill out the rhythm section, and then they added another guitarist, Matt “Guitar” Murphy, after seeing him perform elsewhere in the city.

“An odd mixture of people, but man, it worked,” Marini says. “But Lorne didn’t dig it. And then one of the shows late in the season, they were short, and he said, you guys want to do your silly song? Go ahead and do it. And so we did it on the show. And it was a tremendous hit. People just went crazy for it.”

Belushi was furious at anyone who dared criticize the band When The Blues Brothers scored a #1 hit with their debut album, 1978’s Briefcase Full of Blues, Belushi found himself that fall with the top album, along with a box-office smash in Animal House, to go with his fame on SNL. But he was not without his critics.

In a previously unheard interview conducted with journalist Steve Bloom for a 1979 profile in the Soho Weekly News, we hear Belushi brushing back criticism of The Blues Brothers as a novelty act or appropriating black culture.

“It’s just weird, you know. Why would I do these things?” he says. “First of all, it has nothing to do with ego. It has nothing to do with money. Or the need to be loved by an audience. I don’t have any of those feelings. What the fuck do these people think I am, anyway? I can’t fucking understand why they would attack—see when they attack me, they attack the band. And I hate when they attack the band, because then it makes them look like schmucks for doing what they did for me.” One famous scene from ‘The Blues Brothers’ film was inspired by real life

Aykroyd reveals that one scene in their 1980 film is a nod to their actual record deal: “Where we are about to escape from the Palace Ballroom and commence the final run for Chicago. A 350-pound, 6-foot-4-inch man resembling a Turkish spa attendant lunges out from the wings to offer a record deal. This scene is a direct reprise of what happened when John and I left the stage as The Blues Brothers that first night. In the dressing room halls of 8H, at the page stand, Michael Klenfner, who played the guy in the film and was an acquaintance of John’s, grabbed us and said, ‘You guys should do a record. I’m Michael Klenfner from Atlantic Records. Ahmet (Ertegun) will love this.’” Klenfner died at 62 in 2009.

Film distributors didn’t think Southern audiences could handle the film’s ‘Black’ music

Landis says he intended to make a 70mm “road movie” complete with an intermission, but he and Universal couldn’t even convince cinema distributors to roll out the film nationwide. He and Aykroyd claim exhibitors—Landis singled out Ted Mann of Mann Theatres, who’d bought the Fox Theater chain—worried that audiences in the South and elsewhere would object to a film filled with predominantly “Black” music and performers. So they only debuted in 600 cinemas instead of 1,400, and tried to mount a live concert tour to promote it.

Aykroyd saw none of the film’s massive box office profits

Even though the movie brought in more than $115 million at the box office, Aykroyd saw none of it. He says he received a $225,000 salary for writing and performing in the movie, “for which I was grateful then and am now, as I was only a net points participant in the proceeds, this is all the fee and money I have ever received from The Blues Brothers movie. Universal’s position is that due to the high costs at the time, my net points remain worthless.”

The Belushis fared a bit better, as Pisano said John Belushi used $150,000 he’d received as a bonus from Animal House’s success to subsidize the 1978 album recordings, which took place live at Universal Amphitheatre while they served as Steve Martin’s opening act. “We weren’t repaid [by Atlantic] until well after we recorded everything and they’d heard it, so I think we were probably a little naive to assume we were getting that money back,” Pisano says. “But: Best investment I ever made.”

Sean L. McCarthy @thecomicscomic

[totallyradicalmucky]

I rewrote the entirety of ATHF Plantasm at midnight in my notes app and now my discord is making me post it. So here it is completely unedited.

Rewritten Plantasm

Same concept of split up team

Frylock and Shake talk a couple times. Shake is having nightmares about freyja and plants and Frylock assumes it’s about his fuck up with her again- Meatwad is missing.

Shake stumbles upon the plants displaying life signs earlier than the ginger does because he went to go harvest Meatwad (who was chewed up into little bits by dogs and then comically found in the plant food)

They both try and tell Frylock who isn’t having none of it.

Meatwad has Freyja’s faceplate or something inside him but is too congested to cough it up. Shake beats him to try and get it out but it doesn’t work

Carl has the rest of her and she’s creepy asl- he doesn’t mind and doesn’t even do anything explicit to her at the moment. The robot actually getting hacked and the red LED’s changing to a neon green color and saying something ominous before it cuts back to Frylock making some kind of power suit for the short Elon musk dude to wear and make himself taller.

They bicker going back and forth, Shake and Meatwad are seen banging on the windows in the background- the ginger laughing at him before Frylock eventually has a break to go outside and whisper yell at them. To which they forget why they were so adamant about getting him out. Meatwad mumbles something about plants, maybe dogs, robot ladies, the moon. Shake harps on about Freja- but Frylock stops him when he mentions the plants, the fries indeed noticing the bigass greenhouse he’d never been inside..somehow.

The ginger lets himself into the conversation and talks about it for a bit, nobody gives af. In fact they cut him off halfway and tell him that. The ginger tells them all to shut the fuck up as they go back inside, to which the little musk guy is dead and covered in roots. They all freak out. The ginger guy tries to talk to the plants but the plants proceed to go up inside him and turn him into the tree guy that isn’t outwardly sentient, unless it’s funny. The teens book it, but not before Shake’s greedy ass nabs the power suit.

They book it all the way to carls place because of course they do. Frylock yelling at Shake that the power suit isn’t even done yet. Carl telling them to go away- except he doesn’t even know what’s going on. They go in anyways. The mooninites have hacked into the old robot of freja (big lame reveal). Shake (now in the power suit that’s hardly working and much too small, but still kinda sexy) didn’t notice this immediately and had gone up to hug and or kiss the robotic woman- who responded in a duo of male voices. Shake didn’t care actually.

Carl laughed. Frylock was gay. Meatwad was meat.

They explained the plant thing and somehow came to the conclusion of just jackassing it would work. The mooninites were just going to prank Carl but halfway through they were like man this is pretty fun. Frylock does a “we’re going to need everyone we can get for this.” Moment and the only other person to show up is Willie Nelson who peeks out of the attic and slowly walks down.

Anyways they get their shit rocked by some trees and take the big weird spaceship with everything on it into space. The plutonians are there- they’re like seen. In fact Carl signs help me to them and those mfs blast off as soon as they see what’s going on in the ship. Shake has a badass moment.

Alien reference. One emotional moment where they get back together. Willie Nelson hard carries most likely. They kill the thing? No not really they just dump it in the Arctic Ocean after like 20 minutes of fighting and watch it freeze to death while flying above the water.

The ending is them going home in the ship and then in their house like nothing happened.

Shake gets diagnosed with some disease in the after credits scene due to the suit with Frylock being like “I fucking told you so” and Shake doesn’t bother to take it off even though he looks like a wrinkly ballsack

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Part three. I realised I never specified an exact timeframe so I'm clarifying that this is the last few year/months of him being undercover, about '94 Rust. I'm an ao3 girl so I'm figuring out how to lay fics out on Tumblr. Deeply appreciate everyone who's reading

Warnings: Drugs, drinking, swearing, smut insinuations and references to past violence but it is a True Detective fic, so

'Do you think we can ever truly talk about God?' Cassandra pipes up, as she's smearing herself in her pre-work lather of coco butter. When the sheen of the grease hits the light, it emphasises the taught expanse of her stomach and the tendons in her calfs. An amalgamation of divinity and delicate mortality; the pathetic fragility of the flesh, blood, skin and bones all knotted together, craving cosmic importance. 'Our soul, if there even exists such a thing,' Rust thinks, 'is just a ghost in a machine.'

Rust glances over to where she is standing in a matching lace, navy set, leg elegantly poised on the counter as she continues smoothing the ointment onto herself. He's lying on the mattress, still fully clothed, as he pinches his cigarette and stares back up to the ceiling. The events of the past few days, a visit to a meth lab in Galveston with Ginger followed by a drug and booze binge, have fucked his cognitive workings into a scramble of old memories and new sounds: the smell of gunpowder on his biker jacket, Cassandra's absent minded humming of an old Willie Nelson song, the brown sludge in his nail beds from when he was draining his Harley's oil, the black grease mixing with the residue of the red, Texan dust. He wills himself to give her a semi-coherent answer,

'I don't believe there's anyone there to talk to,' he drawls.

'I said about, not to.'

'What's your point, Cass? I ain't got the fuckin' will, tonight.' Rust thinks he can feel the chemical reactions behind his eyes; his enzymes breaking down proteins, the Speed throbbing through his neurotransmitters.

She rolls her eyes at him as she swaps leg, 'Chill out, I'm only wondering what you think. You know I value your opinion.'

He stiffens at that. 'Don't do this, baby,' he thinks 'It ain't worth whatever you think it is.' She's been doing this more often, letting that docility seep through the crevices of her impassible constitution. She hates herself for it, he can hear it in the acerbic tinge of her words, when she says shit like that to him. Sometimes, when he really concentrates at the expression in those dark pools of her eyes, he knows she believes she has deserved every horrific thing that has ever happened to her.

'I ain't really got an opinion on this matter, yet,' he says through an exhale of smoke, 'Why don't you tell me yours?'

'I know why, like, logistically we talk about God in modern languages, that's self explanatory. But it feels wrong, like we're corrupting the actual concept of a god.'

Rust doesn't look at her but says, 'Go on.'

'I think speaking about God in a dead language preserves him. Dead languages are frozen in time: absolute. They don't allow the transmutation or fucking corruption that modern languages do which are always evolving with dialects and younger generations,' she pauses, slipping her leg down from the counter as she slides her loose Budweiser t-shirt over her body, much to Rust's dismay. She continues,

'Also, on a more personal, aesthetic note, I think worship sounds a lot more metal in a language that isn't the one I use to order at fuckin' Waffle House.'

Rust snorts at that. He hears the slight smile in her voice as she replies,

'I know it sounds dumb when I condense it like that but that's literally my entire point. Worship is so often so dependent on the words we use and we venerate God in the same language that the televangelists or politicians use to con people on TV, the one that the girls at work use to sweet talk a customer into a lap dance? Seems fucked and incoherent to me.'

'I'm sure you can do that shit in a dead language too.'

'Nah, they existed before us. Whatever we try to imbue them with means fuckall, they don't participate in the reality of our information anymore.'

That gets him to sit up, the conversation staring to sober him up, 'Reality of information, huh? You've been stealing my books again, Cass?' a trace of a smirk on his lips. She huffs at him, stood in the middle of trailer,

'You were gone for three days and class is off for Spring Break, what the hell else was I supposed to do?'

'Buy some decent nightwear?' he remarks dryly. The reference to another one of her seduction tactics gets a mischievous smile from Cassandra . The past couple of weeks, she has been going to bed in some very short and, sometimes, very sheer nightdresses. Despite having made the chivalrous choice of sleeping on the floor of the trailer, chivalry being a virtue Rust is largely unacquainted with these days, his isn't unaffected by the sight of her sprawled out, almost beside him. Especially, when the nightdress naturally rides up during the night; a factor that has forced him to take too many a late night smokes outside.

'Nah, not when I know you enjoy it so much.'

'Cassandra,' Rust warns.

'Shit, full name?' she teases, 'You know, you're the only person who I let call me Cass.' She walks towards him, crawling onto the mattress and lying down next to him to look up at the ceiling. Rust doesn't move, not a goddamn inch. 'She'll know,' he thinks, 'Fuck, she probably already does.' Girls like Cassandra, girls too sexy and too tough for their age, always know. They have to. Growing up in a trailers, apartments and halfway houses, knowing that their tips which become their meals are based on how long they'll allow a drunk patron to stare at their tits or pat their asses as they serve them. They can smell male attraction from a mile off, tongues running over canines in mouths addled with whiskey and cigarettes. Oh yeah, they can tell and they know exactly how to play that game.

Rust wonders if he should feel some resentment towards her for it. He doesn't.

'Oh yeah?' he mutters, unimpressed.

'Yeah.'

'Lucky me.'

'You are. You know how many of your brothers would kill to give me a nickname?'

'Sounds to me like they already do,' his tone being harsher than he intended.

She goes silent and Rust hates himself more now than he did the other day, when he smashed a meth cook's head into a sink 14 times for screwing the Iron Crusaders' supply. The fragments of teeth and filaments of saliva mixed with blood that were left in the sink have nothing on the current look in Cassandra's eye.

'Don't be an asshole, Crash. You know I don't enjoy any of it,' her voice hoarse.

For the first time this evening, he looks her in the eye. 'I know,' tone steady but with a trace of true acknowledgment. Cassandra picks up on it, nodding her head. In these two innocuous actions, both have apologised and are forgiven. She stands up and grabs her duffel bag,

'You gonna swing by, tonight?'

He fucking wants to. Badly. He'd stomach the neon lights fucking with his Synesthesia, the lurid couches and the other Crusaders betting on how well each girl would 'take it'. He'd endure the fucking mire just to have Cassandra looking at him when she's on stage, the lights making her white smile a cool lilac.

'Nah. Can't tonight. Something at the clubhouse.'

'Oh, ok.'

'Poor kid. Like a kicked puppy,' he thinks. For the second time tonight, he can't stand that look in her eyes. He offers,

'You want a ride to work, baby? I'm headed in that direction, anyway.'

Something shifts slightly in her eye. The ball is back in her court. She savours it, rolls it over her tongue as victory coats it in something sweet and tart. Never one to show mercy, Cassandra toys with him,

'You'd give me a ride even if you weren't headed anywhere.'

Rust scoffs, fixing her with a look of chagrin; gleam of affection ,almost, trepidation in his eyes,

'I know, baby. I know.'

[etherealeddie]

Woodstock ‘99 - Part 1

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader

Story Summary: A hopeless romantic hippie meets a roughed up metalhead at what is supposed to be beautiful, peaceful, music-filled weekend. But even amongst all of the chaos, there may be some peace. 

Part Summary: You chase love all the way to Woodstock ‘99, hoping to find what your parents did in 1969, but you find yourself stuck in hellish crowds and reaching for any hands to pull you out. 

CW: Use of weed, maybe some alcohol, rough crowd, but I think that’s everything. Let me know if I missed any!

Authors Note: This was originally going to just be a one shot but I got a bit too into it and decided maybe a short series was better!

Word Count: 1.2k

You grew up with two very interesting parents, to say the least. From a young age you were taught kindness, peace, and love, and learned quickly in school that most people were not raised with these same values. 

It’s like you came out of the womb with a flower crown on, singing Imagine by John Lennon. None of that was really surprising though, you’d been the love child of two hippies who met at Woodstock and lived in a van.

It wasn’t until you were a toddler that they decided settling down in a house was a more stable environment for a kid. They chose a small trailer, in a small town, in the big state of Arizona, and you loved it. You loved having a room and space, and you loved being able to spend time with your parents without motion sickness and seatbelts. 

By the time you were 10, you could recite your parents' love story word for word as your mom told it, and you told everyone. 

“My mom had just broken up with her boyfriend and hitched a ride to Woodstock in ‘69 just looking for new friends and community. My dad says he was friends with someone who was friends with Janis Joplin, but I think he was just there to sell weed!” You’d say, giggling to your 5th grade teacher. She would smile along, knowing she should have a talk with them about what is and isn’t appropriate for kids your age.

You’d been so obsessed with their meet-cute that you’d only dreamed of having your own. So when Woodstock ‘99 was announced, how could you not get a ticket? You weren't going to pass up the opportunity to experience the kind of love and community your parents always talked about, and maybe find some more like-minded friends. 

Sure, the bands this year weren't the kind of bands you’d really associate with Woodstock in your head, but they couldn’t be that different from ‘69. Maybe you’d be a part of a new kind of movement, something to better the world. That’s what you wanted most. 

So July 19th of 1999, you piled into your parents' old van-home with a few of your friends, ready to be enlightened and experience what your parents once had. The 35 hour drive was long and grueling but you and your friends didn’t seem the least bit distressed. It would be a long journey, switching drivers every few hours, talking about the excitement ahead, and what you all expected out of the weekend.

━

Once in the venue, you realize it’s an old air force base. There are no flowers, little to no healthy grass, and a LOT of people. You try not to let that bother you too much, it’s just the venue. It doesn’t mean the people and experience are going to be any less fulfilling.

You and your friends quickly find a spot to pitch the small tents you brought and begin to walk around to get a feel for the weekend ahead.

Navigating between people, with your best friend Avery in toe, hunt for the bathrooms and vendor area so you would be able to find them quickly later.

“I can’t believe we're actually here. Like really here.” She says, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen her smile before.

“Me either, honestly. I know he’s not until the last day, but I am so excited for Willie Nelson, it’s going to be so good!” You reply, trying to politely push your way through the throngs of people ahead of you.

“Yeah, but Korn is tonight. That’s going to be absolutely killer.” Avery says, silently thanking you as you reach your hand back to hold hers so you don’t lose each other.

Avery didn’t grow up like you did. She was a lot more “city”. She was more into rock music and was most excited for Korn and Metallica, and although you shared the same values in humanity, you showed it a bit differently. 

She liked loud and proud activism. You liked peaceful yet impactful activism. But at the end of the day, as long as you were fighting for the same thing, did any of it really matter? As long as positive change was made, who cares if you hugged it out or screamed into the faces of oppressors. 

━

You and your friends smoke a joint or two and sit on the outskirts of the large crowd for most of the concerts throughout the first day. Avery is hellbent on pushing herself as much to the front as she can for Korn, and she's taking you with her.

The set change is about 20 minutes, and the crowd separates a bit, making it easier to move forward, but it's still a pretty tight squeeze. Avery holds your hand so tight you think she may break your wrist. 

You manage to get pretty close to the front, maybe 10 or 15 people ahead of you by the time you see Jonathan Davis enter the stage. Avery freezes, wide eyes on him, she screams. 

You quickly put your hand in hers, knowing keeping track of your friend is your only goal for the entire set. You didn’t know much of Korn’s music anyway, just a few songs she’d played for you over the course of your friendship. 

The show goes on, and the crowd is getting rowdy. Mosh pits opening in every corner, people screaming and throwing things, and it’s not necessarily bad, you just aren’t ready for it. 

A small pit opens right next to you and you see Avery get excited, she smirks, and before you have a second to say anything, she runs into the pit. For the few minutes she’s moshing, you see her body multiple grown men and you breathe a sigh of relief. You know she can handle herself, but these people are far more aggressive than you had expected. 

As the set comes to a close, you can feel the energy and buzz of the audience. It’s much more abrasive and driven than you can handle, but there's no way to get out of this crowd easily, so you and Avery stay put, arms intertwined to keep together.

The next band is newer. They’ve been around for a few years but had just signed onto a label, and this is probably the biggest show they’ve ever played. You’ve heard of them from Avery before, she had seen them once before in a much smaller venue, maybe 50 people, and she said they were “pretty okay”. 

An announcer comes out onto the stage, grabbing a microphone and yelling.

“How incredible was THAT, you guys?” He yells, earning cheers and excitement from everyone around you.

“Hope you all saved some energy for this next group. They're new on the scene and ready to rock. Everybody, this is Corroded Coffin!” He yells again as the 4 members come out and you’re frozen as the lead singer hits centerstage. 

If he’s nervous, you can’t tell. You take in his appearance completely. From his ripped jeans and battle vest, to his long curly hair. 

Eddie Munson, although you don’t know his name yet, is the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 812: Willie Nelson Stardust

My father-in-law passed away on February 23rd after a long battle with Parkinson’s and various other ailments. Over the last six years, my husband and I made frequent trips down to central Oregon to check in on my in-laws and help out around the house. During some visits, it seemed possible that his dad would be around for another decade or more. And on other visits, we wondered if he would be around more than a few months. Things took a rough turn around Thanksgiving of last year and his health declined considerably. My husband spent most of January in Oregon while I’ve spent 2024 fulfilling tour obligations with three different bands and making trips down to visit them during any available downtime.

My father-in-law was a great guy. He grew up in the Bay Area and was around for all the excitement of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. He was buddies with Pigpen from the Grateful Dead and attempted to go to the Altamont Free Concert but was stuck in the traffic jam when news traveled down the road about all the chaos and violence incited by the Hells Angels. He loved ZZ Top and Creedence Clearwater Revival and Tina Turner. But more than anything, he loved Willie Nelson.

Stardust, in particular, got a lot of spins around their house when I’d come to visit. In some ways, it’s odd that this was their Willie album of choice. After all, the ten songs on Stardust are all covers of old pop standards. Columbia Records was even hesitant to release it considering that Willie was riding strong on his outlaw country reputation at the time. But the album became a huge hit—a quintuple platinum album and a favorite among both fans and critics.

I won’t lie, I prefer Willie’s own songs, but the slow, sparse, and relaxed vibe of Stardust grew on me. I also appreciated how he chose songs with less conventional melodies (“Blue Skies,” “All of Me,” etc) and how his minimalist slow-hand style seemed perfectly suited to those compositions. The stretches of empty space, the chord changes that feel a little counterintuitive at first but then settle nicely into the larger song, the playful but rough-hewn quality to the vocals—it all has a hazy, late night, intoxicating vibe. I don’t even remember when I picked up my personal copy but it’s been a part of my collection for at least two decades.

Over the years, I heard less and less music at my in-law’s house. Television became the more constant companion, perhaps because the sound of people talking filled the conversational void stemming from the reclusive nature of my father-in-law’s disease. But when they began doing hospice at home back in January, they switched back to music. In his last days, we kept the stereo on throughout the day, switching between various CDs from their collection. I was occasionally tasked with picking out music, and I grappled with finding something that was familiar and comforting without running the risk of forever being tainted by the circumstances. Stardust was a family favorite but I never put it on for fear that it would render it off-limits once his father passed.

The hospice nurse called us on a Tuesday in February to say my father-in-law was near the end. He wasn’t eating or drinking and his breathing was labored. My husband and I drove all night hoping to make it to central Oregon in time to say goodbye. He was nearly unresponsive by that point, though he would squeeze your hand if you talked to him. Despite his condition, he managed to to hang in there for another week-and-a-half. In that time, I had to return to Seattle for rehearsals, then had to fly out to the East Coast for a weekend of shows, then flew back to Oregon, then had to fly back to Seattle to check in on a friend that was mentally struggling after being involved in a motor vehicle fatality involving an inebriated man that had been running across a busy highway.

The call came in the afternoon. My father-in-law passed peacefully. My husband and his mother had been listening to Stardust at the time, and he took his last breath during “September Song.”

The struggle was over. It had been a long decline and by the end it was hard to recognize the warm, witty, and vibrant man I first met nearly 26 years ago in the withered and incapacitated person we’d been tending to for the last few months. I was grateful to know my father-in-law for so many years, to have a stockpile of memories of him before things got so difficult. And in the weeks since he’s passed I’ve listened to Stardust a few times. The wistful nature of the album has an added element of sadness, but the memories of listening to it in happy moments outweigh its more recent association. If anything, “September Song” feels like an even more bittersweet reminder to savor the moment and hold your loved one’s close, because seasons change and all things must pass.

Oh, it's a long long while

From May to December

But the days grow short

When you reach September

When the autumn weather

Turns leaves to flame

One hasn't got time

For the waiting game

Oh, the days dwindle down

To a precious few

September, November

And these few precious days

I'll spend with you

These precious days

I'll spend with you

[js-a-writer]

Requests

People I Write For :

Stranger Things

El Hopper (fem, gn, male)

Max Mayfield (fem, gn, male)

Dustin Henderson (fem, gn)

Will Byers (gn, male)

Lucas Sinclaire (fem, gn, male)

Mike Wheeler (fem, gn, male)

Steve Harrington (fem, gn, male)

Nancy Wheeler (fem, gn, male)

Eddie Munson (fem, gn, male)

Robin Buckley (fem, gn)

Billy Hargrove (fem, gn)

Scream

Sidney Prescott (fem, gn, male)

Randy Meeks (fem, gn)

Tatem Riley (fem, gn male)

Stu Macher (fem, gn)

Billy Loomis (fem, gn)

Derek Feldman (fem, gn)

Mark Kincaid (fem, gn)

Kirby Reed (fem, gn, male)

Marnie Cooper (fem, gn, male)

Amber Freeman (fem, gn, male)

Chad Meeks-Martin (fem, gn)

Mindy Meeks-Martin (fem, gn)

Wes Hicks (fem, gn)

Tara Carpenter (fem, gn, male)

Sam Carpenter *Loomis* (fem, gn, male)

Liv McKenzie (fem, gn, male)

Anika Kayoko (fem, gn)

Danny Brackett (fem, gn)

Ethan Landry (fem, gn)

Outer Banks

Rafe Cameron (fem, gn)

JJ Maybank (fem, gn)

Pope (fem, gn)

Kiara (fem, gn, male)

Cleo (fem, gn, male)

Shameless

Carl Gallagher (fem, gn)

Ian Gallagher (fem, gn, male)

Fiona Gallagher (fem, gn, male)

Debbie Gallagher (fem, gn, male)

Liam Gallagher *aged up* (fem, gn)

NCIS

Tim McGee (fem, gn)

Tony DiNozzo (fem, gn)

Gibbs (fem, gn)

Jimmy Palmer (fem, gn)

Abby Scuito (fem, gn, male)

Ziva David (fem, gn, male)

Caitlin Todd (fem, gn, male)

Greenhouse Academy

Haley Woods (fem, gn, male)

Leo Cruz (fem, gn)

Alex Woods (fem, gn)

Brooke Osmand (fem, gn, male)

Max Miller (fem, gn)

Sophia Cardona (fem, gn, male)

Daniel Hayward (fem, gn)

Parker Grant (fem, gn)

Jackie Sanders (fem, gn, male)

Ryan Woods *young* (fem, gn, male)

Fuller House

Stephanie Tanner (fem, gn, male)

Jesse Katsopolis *young and old* (fem, gn)

Ramona Gibbler (fem, gn, male)

Max Fuller *aged up* (fem, gn)

Steve Hale *young and old* (fem, gn)

Jackson Fuller (fem, gn)

Jimmy Gibbler (fem, gn)

Matt Harmon (fem, gn)

Ethan (fem, gn)

Ginny and Georgia

Ginny Miller (fem, gn, male)

Abby (fem, gn, male)

Marcus Baker (fem, gn)

Georgia Miller *young and old*(fem, gn, male)

Maxine Baker (fem, gn)

Zion Miller *young and old* (fem, gn)

Paul Randolph (fem, gn)

Brodie (fem, gn, male)

Norah (gn, male)

Padma (gn, male)

Matt Press (fem, gn)

Joe (fem, gn)

Jordan (fem, gn)

Heartstopper

Charlie Spring (gn, male)

Nick Nelson (fem, gn, male)

Elle Argent (fem, gn, male)

Darcy Olsson (fem, gn)

Tara Jones (fem, gn)

Tao Xu (fem, gn)

Anne with an E

Gilbert Blythe (fem, gn)

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert (fem, gn, male)

Diana Barry (gn, male)

Jerry Baynard (fem, gn)

Cole Mackenzie (fem, gn, male)

Sebastian Lacroix (fem, gn)

Billy Andrews (fem, gn)

Charlie Sloane (fem, gn)

Nate (fem, gn)

Prissy Andrews (fem, gn, male)

To All the Boys I've Loved Before

John Ambrose (fem, gn)

Josh (fem, gn)

Peter Kavinsky (fem, gn)

Lucas (gn, male)

Gen (fem, gn, male)

Chris *Christine* (fem, gn, male)

Julie and the Phantoms

Julie (fem, gn, male)

Luke Patterson (fem, gn)

Alex (gn, male)

Reggie (fem, gn)

Nick (fem, gn)

Flynn (fem, gn, male)

Willie (gn, male)

IT (Chapter 1 + 2)

Stanley Uris (fem, gn, male)

Richie Tozier (fem, gn, male)

Eddie Kaspbrak (fem, gn, male)

Beverly Marsh (fem, gn, male)

Ben Hanscom (fem, gn)

Mike Hanlon (fem, gn)

Bill Denbrough (fem, gn, male)

Henry Bowers (fem, gn)

Belch Huggins *Reggie* (fem, gn)

Patrick Hockstetter (fem, gn)

Victor Criss (fem, gn)

I Am Not Okay With This

Sydney Novak (fem, gn, male)

Stanley Barber (fem, gn, male)

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes (fem, gn, male)

Tewksbury (fem, gn)

Sherlock Holmes (fem, gn)

The Kissing Booth

Noah Flynn (fem, gn)

Lee Flynn (fem, gn)

Marco Peña (fem, gn)

The Imperfects

Tilda Webber (fem, gn, male)

Abbi Singh (fem, gn, male)

Juan Ruiz (fem, gn)

Sydney Burke (fem, gn, male)

P.J. (fem, gn)

Malibu Rescue

Tyler (fem, gn)

Dylan (fem, gn, male)

Lizzy (fem, gn, male)

Gina (fem, gn, male)

Eric (fem, gn)

The Package

Sean Floyd (fem, gn, male)

Sarah (fem, gn, male)

Becky Abelar (fem, gn, male)

Purple Hearts

Cassie Salazar (fem, gn, male)

Luke Morrow (fem, gn)

Frankie (fem, gn)

Armando (fem, gn)

Riley (fem, gn, male)

Wednesday

Wednesday Adams (fem, gn, male)

Xavier Thorpe (fem, gn)

Enid Sinclair (fem, gn, male)

Tyler Galpin (fem, gn)

Rowan Laslow (fem, gn, male)

Lucas Walker (fem, gn)

Ajax Petropolus (fem, gn)

Heartbreak High

Spencer White *Spider* (fem, gn)

Anthony Vaughn *Ant* (fem, gn, male)

Darren Rivers (gn, male)

Amerie Wadia (gn, male)

Quinn Gallagher-Jones *Quinni* (fem, gn)

Dustin Reid *Dusty* (fem, gn)

Harper McLean (fem, gn, male)

Douglas Piggott *Ca$h* (fem, gn, male)

Malakai Mitchell (fem, gn, male)

Hype House (All time)

Vinnie Hacker (fem, gn)

Taylor Holder (fem, gn)

Jack Wright (fem, gn, male)

Barron Sho (fem, gn)

Ryland (fem, gn)

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger (fem, gn, male)

Harry Potter (fem, gn)

Ron Weasley (fem, gn)

George Weasley (fem, gn)

Fred Weasley (fem, gn)

Bill Weasley (fem, gn)

Charlie Weasley (fem, gn)

Percy Weasley (fem, gn)

Ginny Weasley (fem, gn, male)

Mattheo Riddle (fem, gn)

Theodore Nott (fem, gn)

Dean Thomas (fem, gn)

Lee Jordan ( fem, gn, male)

Seamas Finnigan (fem, gn, male)

Pansy Parkinson (fem, gn, male)

Lorenzo Berkshire (fem, gn)

Tom Riddle *not Voldemort* (fem, gn)

Blaise Zabini (fem, gn)

Luna Lovegood (fem, gn, male)

Regulus Black *young* (fem, gn, male)

Sirius Black *young* (fem, gn, male)

Remus Lupin *young* (fem, gn, male)

James Potter *young* (fem, gn, male)

Lily Potter *young* (fem, gn, male)

Nymphadora Tonks (fem, gn, male)

Narcissa Malfoy *young and old* (fem, gn, male)

Fantastic Beasts

Newt Scammander (fem, gn)

Queenie Goldstein (fem, gn, male)

Credence Barebone (fem, gn, male)

Theseus Scammander (fem, gn)

The Black Phone

Vance Hopper (fem, gn)

Finney Blake (fem, gn)

Gwenny Blake *aged up* (fem, gn, male)

Robin Arellano (fem, gn)

Bruce Yamada (fem, gn)

Billy Showalter (fem, gn)

10 Things I Hate About You

Kat Stratford (fem, gn, male)

Cameron James (fem, gn)

Bianca Stratford (fem, gn, male)

Patrick Verona (fem, gn)

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

Jacob Portman (fem, gn, male)

Emma Bloom (fem, gn, male)

Alma Peregrine (fem, gn, male)

Enoch O'Connor (fem, gn)

Victor Bruntley *alive* (fem, gn)

Olive Abroholos Elephanta (fem, gn, male)

Millard Nullings (fem, gn, male)

Horace (fem, gn male)

Fiona *aged up* (fem, gn, male)

Bronwyn Bruntley *aged up* (fem, gn, male)

Hugh (fem, gn, male)

Titanic

Rose Dewitt Bukater (fem, gn, male)

Jack Dawson (fem, gn, male)

A Quiet Place

Marcus (fem, gn, male)

Evelyn (fem, gn, male)

Regan (fem, gn, male)

Lee (fem, gn)

The Office

Jim Halpert (fem, gn)

Dwight Shrute (fem, gn, male)

Pam Beesley (fem, gn, male)

Five Feet Apart

Stella (fem, gn, male)

Poe Ramirez (gn, male)

Will (fem, gn)

Celebs/Influencers

That I don't already have as characters (cuz I write for the character and the actor)

Nils Kuesel (fem, gn, male)

Jack Harlow (fem, gn)

Dua Lipa (fem, gn, male)

Olivia Rodrigo (fem, gn, male)

Jenna Ortega (fem, gn, male)

Dove Cameron (fem, gn, male)

Benjamin Wadsworth (fem, gn)

Girl Meets World

Farkle Minkus (fem, gn, male)

Riley Matthews (fem, gn, male)

Maya Hart (fem, gn, male)

Lucas Friar (fem, gn)

Isaiah Babineaux (fem, gn)

Isadora Smackle (fem, gn, male)

Auggie Matthews *aged up* (fem, gn)

Josh Matthews (fem, gn)

Boy Meets World

Shawn Hunter (fem, gn)

Eric Matthews (fem, gn, male)

Cory Matthews (fem, gn)

Topanga Lawrance (fem, gn, male)

Jack (fem, gn, male)

The Notebook

The Breakfast Club

Barbie

Ken (fem, gn)

Barbie (fem, gn, male)

She's the Man

Duke Orsino (fem, gn)

Hazbin Hotel

Alastor (fem, gn, male)

Angel Dust (fem, gn, male)

Husk (fem, gn, male)

Adam (fem, gn, male)

Lucifer (fem, gn, male)

Lilith (fem, gn, male)

Sir Pentious (fem, gn, male)

2 Broke Girls

Max (fem, gn, male)

Caroline (gn, male)

Johnny (fem, gn)

Oleg (fem, gn)

Bridgerton

Benedict (fem, gn, male)

Anthony (fem, gn)

Daphne (gn, male)

Eloise (fem, gn, male)

Fran (fem, gn, male)

Madame Delacroix (fem, gn, male)

How to Request :

Make sure to state what you would like in the imagine/story and what genre (?) Like angst, fluff, smut (sometimes). Also what character or person you would want in the imagine. 🙃

*Disclaimer*

I write for all of these characters and their actors and if you have someone else you would want me to write for be sure to put that in your request these are just the characters I could think of off the top of my head

P.S. I also do some ship imagines like Nick x Charlie (heartstopper), etc. So if you want ship imagines be sure to send them in and I will try and get to them.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Willie Nelson - Texas Opry House, Austin, Texas, June 29, 1974

We checked in with Kris and Rita last week, and included a little note from Willie Nelson. So here's this week's birthday boy a few years later. Ninety-one years old! Wild. And whaddaya know, Willie's on the road again this summer with some guy named Bob Dylan. Those two just can't quit! Thankfully!

Back in the summer of '74, Willie filmed a hometown show at the Texas Opry House with a somewhat stripped down Family band (where's Bobbie?!). An extremely sweet performance, to say the least, bouncing from buoyant barroom boogies to exquisitely rendered ballads. The latter category always reminds me that Willie is one of the greatest ballad singers this side of Frank Sinatra. There's something in the steely, resigned bitterness of his vocals on these tunes that gives them a wonderful extra dimension. You can't look away!

It's mostly good times, however, especially when Sammi Smith hops onstage for a few vibrant duets. Alas, as the uploader notes, the jam with Jerry Jeff Walker on “Up Against the Wall Red Neck Mother” has been lost. But have no fear! Here's Willie and Jerry Jeff playing it a little later in the year, captured in a video that's as blurry as your vision after a 12-pack of Lone Star Beer.

[collegetennisoriginstory]

hi sorry if this was asked before but tumblr search isn’t working? but i was wondering if you have a playlist or some song recommendation that go well since i’m planning to reread and catch up on your lovely game !! <33

Edit: Started a crowsourced playlist to compile songs, feel free to contribute / put in the songs that remind you of each character :)

Oh nooo I don't know what I tagged all the song recs folks have been sending in as, because I tried "song rec" and "song recs" in my featured tags and both don't work hahaha I'm so bad at using tumblr it's kinda funny this is my main mode of reader/player interaction xD

But hmm let's see, I did save a couple into a playlist for writing previously, but they're combined with the Merry Crisis recs. I'll just list a few that i feel fit, but taking recs from y'all and i promise I'll tag properly this time and create a separated CT:OS playlist 😅

Sam: Photos from when we were young by Nana Grizol, Always on my mind by Willie Nelson (more for the lyrics rather than the old-school vibe), There till the end by Jerub, and Lucky by Colbie Caillat (because it appears in the IF :P), Come back home by Lauv

Rayyan: Fuck it! by Days 'N Daze, Backwards directions by Abby Sage, Waves by Dean Lewis, House of the Rising Sun by the Animals, Not done yet by SOJA, Why Am I Like This? by Orla Gartland, Indigo Night by Tamino

Tobin: If you love me by Brenda Lee, Nothing without you by Tanarélle, Killing me softly by Frank Sinatra/Roberta Flack. First Love/Late Spring by Mitski, My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

G: August by Taylor Swift, Apocalypse by Cigarettes after Sex, Place de la République by Cœur de pirate, Dis, quand reviendras-tu by Barbara, Born To Die by Lana Del Rey and Real by Years & Years

Dad: Badlands by Bruce Springsteen but tbh just. Springsteen in general.

[ephemeral-antiquities]

More House of Wax (2005) but the Sinclairs discovered therapy so they’re just normal guys and now its a sitcom…

•chia pets. Bo has a Willie Nelson chia pet, Lester has a hedgehog, and Vincent has Bob Ross.

•Bo forces everyone to watch football. Vincent hates it. Superbowl season is his least favorite time of year.

•Bo drags Vincent out of the house once a month, aside from therapy appointments and Lester’s road trips. (“You’re a hermit.” “No, Im just selective of who I interact with.” “…thats.. thats a hermit.” “[pulls out dictionary] actually I- oh.” )

•Vincent’s workspace is littered with Bob Ross merchandise. Posters with his phrases, replication paintings from when he and his brothers watched it, even a life sized cardboard cutout. Bo is a little creeped out at this point.

•Radio is everyone’s best friend.

•when they were younger, Bo went out and bought an old banged up truck with money he that got fixing up other cars and odd jobs around the area. The trio always used to go out on weekends and race around the countryside. It started when Lester was about 13. Bo would purposefully drive recklessly through old farmland, whipping around turns as music blared from the radio so loud that whoever was sitting in the truck bed could hear it as they were jostled around. When Lester was younger, but begged to sit in the back, Vincent would join him to act as his human seatbelt which was shockingly effective, all things considered. Its a fond memory for all of them, and sometimes, every so often, they’ll all pile into Bo’s old truck and relive it.

•Bo and Vincent got “Im with stupid” shirts when they were younger, and they still have them. Yes, they both still wear them, to each other’s chagrin. (“[staring at Vincent wearing the shirt] why did we spend our allowance on this at 14..” “[shrugs nonchalantly]”)

•despite the fact that Bo is notorious for just making TV dinners, he is actually a very good cook, as is Lester. Sometimes, if Vincent is particularly pesky about it, or if he recruits Lester into it, Bo can be convinced to cook a decent meal that actually takes effort.

•On a related note, Vincent is exceptionally good at reverse psychology. He’s also highly skilled at “puppy dog eyes” but he’d rather use reverse psychology. He finds Bo’s reactions very amusing.

•Both Bo and Vincent like to bake, and Lester always loves when they do.

•Bo and Lester like to go to carnivals, fairs and theme parks. Vincent gets roped in because his brothers go. He enjoys the rides, secretly, but really doesn’t like the crowds. Bo won his brothers giant stuffed toys at the games, and one time he even won a fish. Vincent keeps it, and it has since been named “Mr. Fishcasso III”.

•Lester has shown up randomly in the middle of the night, most of the time after a long day, and asks if he can just have tea and watch movies with Bo and Vincent. Vincent has to keep Bo from legitimately combusting for five minutes before they agree.

[cowgurrrl]

I just got back from a country/western themed birthday party and they had some chickens at the house so I was taking some of the little kids back there and I can't stop thinking about Joel and reader owning a couple of chickens and showing charlie how to care for them 🥹🥹 or even Ellie because we know that girl loves anything that breathes. the country fit I had and vibe were not what I needed to help my maladaptive daydreaming but anyway sjdbdhdbs do you think they'd lean more into the farm life later on??

Oh totally!! More under the cut because my Texas heart is SWOON with this idea

The idea totally comes from Joel at first, especially because of his dream to have a sheep ranch, and he's also a Southern Gentleman™️, so I think he would totally posit the idea first. Maybe Ellie's been helping around the stables more often, or Charlie is getting bigger and wanting to know more about the world around her. Whatever the reasoning, you somehow end up with four chickens all named after different punk artists— Blondie, Jayne, Lou, and Joan— who live in a coop on your property. Joel and Ellie show Charlie how to feed the chickens and love on them, and she gets especially close to Blondie. She mostly wants to pet the chickens more than anything, but she has fun, and it teaches her responsibility. Not to mention, watching Joel get into Dad Mode is one of your favorite things to watch. He crouches down to Charlie's level and explains things to her before popping up to help Ellie carry heavy bags of chicken feed. He transitions between the girls' needs seamlessly.

He'd also start LEANING hard into his country roots. The boy no doubt grew up on the greats of country music— Tia Blake, Loretta Lynn, Emmylou Harris, Willie Nelson, Dolly, Joan Baez, Tucker Zimmerman, Hank Williams, ALL OF IT (can you tell I love a specific era of country music?) Whenever people come through town, he tries to look for old records or cassettes to put in Ellie's walkman but most of the time he relies on his memory and his guitar. He'd also get himself a cowboy hat if he didn't have one already. You and Ellie are the first ones to tease him about it but it starts to grow on you after a while.

"Hey, cowboy!" You'd yell from the porch, and he'd look up from where he's working on the coop, cowboy hat on his head, to see you standing there with a glass of water. "I don't need you dying of dehydration. Come take a break." And he'd look between you and what he's working on before finally getting up, mumbling, "yes, ma'am." He'd take the water from you and drink it way too fast, and you can't help but admire the shine of his skin in the sun, the way his muscles look against his shirt, and just how fucking hot he looked.

"Didn't your mama ever tell you it was rude to stare?" He'd ask, putting the glass down and grabbing your waist to pull you close.

"Oh, would you prefer if I went inside and didn't watch my incredibly sexy husband install extra fencing around his daughter's chicken coop?"

"Oo, incredibly sexy?" He'd ask. "It's the hat, ain't it?"

"It's a good thing I didn't marry you for your fashion choices," you'd tease. "But, you do look pretty handsome in it, cowboy." He'd kiss you, and for a moment, you'd be in your own little world before Charlie is tugging on your dress.

"Mama, can we get a cow?!" She'd ask, and you'd give Joel a look that says look what you've done but he'd just laugh, scoop Charlie in his arms, and take her down to the coop to see her best friend, Blondie the chicken (and yes, Blondie the chicken does have some rockin' Debbie Harry hair why else would Charlie be in love with her)

[mugiwara-lucy]

I love you how bitches act like Kamala is the second coming of Jesus yet she couldn't even get off her ass and show Vice President Vance around the White House like she was supposed to like every upcoming Vice President should get. Hell she was probably sucking Willie Nelson's dick like she did in the old days lmfao. But don't worry, once President Trump ends in 4 years you're gonna get 8 years of President Vance and 8 years of probably President Vivek :) Maybe by then yours and Peachy's Trump Derangement Syndrome will be healed once they return women to traditional gender roles like America is supposed to have :)

😂

Why would she do anything for Vance? He spent the last four months calling her a "Childless Cat Lady" and even went after her FUCKING STEP DAUGHTER.

Not to mention the night BEFORE the election him and that old Pedophile called her a "bitch", "trash" and "garbage" along with calling her the R slur. If he's so smart, he can handle it himself or better yet ask that 78 year old rapist for help.

And I have a feeling next year will be the END of MAGA. Nor will we EVER have that Vivek fucker as president since MAGA is TOO RACIST. As someone who grew up in a White Upper Middle Class society, I know the way they talk about people like Vivek Ramaswamy. That guy is pathetic. Hell case in point, this summer he asked White People if they would vote for him and they said "No Thanks".

And as for "traditional gender roles" bullshit, yeah they can try 😂

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley: They Don't Even Know Me Yet

Martin Aston, MOJO, January 2003

In 1992 Jeff Buckley gave his first ever press interview. A decade later, MOJO unearths this incredible, little-seen document.

AUTUMN IN NEW YORK, 1992. A tiny East Village cafe, the Sin-e. It's packed, but there's a seat near the very front, under the singer's nose. His, eyes are clenched shut. He's nervous, edgy, but it's a truly memorable show; jittery, comical, thrilling, mesmeric. When he's singing the voice is pure, stretching high-low, curling around a song. He closes on a song that could very well be a lullaby, and your eyes close with his.

Three days later, in another tiny cafe, via a mutual friend who knows Tim Buckley is your all-time favourite singer, and who told you, 'You gotta hear his son', you meet Jeff. He's dressed down — plaid shirt, jeans — which draws you to the face; short, thatched hair, looming eyes, rich lips, a wary expression. It's his first ever interview, and he's nervous, defensive. The first thing he says, almost before handshakes, is whether you're here purely because of Tim. No, but then again, yes. He accepts that there's little point writing about Jeff simply because you love Tim, any more than you can avoid Tim because of Jeff. In the end, only Dutch magazine OOR takes a chance on an interview with a total unknown: based, of course, on the familial connection to Tim. The interview is never published in the UK. By the time everyone catches up with Jeff the interview is out of date. But now, given his death and enshrined appeal, it's timeless.

When did music first make an impact on you?

As a child. There was my mother's breasts and then there was music. It felt like another person in the house that floated with me everywhere. All my life, I've sung along to the radio, stuff like [Spiral Staircase's] 'I Love You More Today Than Yesterday'. My mum would drive me to school, playing mellow Californian radio, stuff like Chicago, Crosby Stills and Nash, Blood Sweat and Tears, Sly and the Family Stone, James Brown, The Temptations, every day! She married a car mechanic, who couldn't carry a tune, but he had amazing taste and he turned me on to Booker T, Led Zeppelin and Joni Mitchell, Hoyt Axton and Willie Nelson. My mum pretty much sung to me — she's a classically-trained pianist and cellist. So it was mainly me and my mum, because my parents split before I was born. I hung around my grandmother too — she'd play me stuff like The Chambers Brothers.

It's rare to hear someone smitten with both traditional blues and modern blues. I'm thinking of your cover of 'Fare Thee Well'.

That's Dink's Song. It was originally written by a washerwoman. That's where the best music came from, from old European-American criminals bringing Africans to America. My favourites are Robert Johnson and Bukka White, The Staple Singers, Billie Holiday. I cover 'Strange Fruit', too. I figured I wouldn't be able to meet these people, so I learn from them by hearing them sing. Some of the coolest music is Johnny Cash, which isn't a black or white thing. I love Mariachi music, Ray Charles, Edith Piaf, the Sex Pistols, Muddy Waters…I just saw gifts dangling from them and wanted to take it. I guess I want to be an archetypal entertainer, an archetypal bard, a minstrel. I guess I have a romantic vision. Even though punk happened to me, and Robert Johnson, I want to be a realty good storyteller, and those songs have great stories.

What do you love about 'Twelfth Of Never'?

I cover the Nina Simone version. It's just the way she does it. I can't get into Elvis's version, it doesn't capture my imagination, though he had a beautiful voice. Every time I hear 'Can't Help Falling In Love', I cry. I can't separate Charles Manson from The Beatles or the Clambake movie from Elvis, though. But I love all music. I'm the Cocteau Twins' biggest fan, too. They allow their deepest eccentricities to be the music itself, and not just something they want to project. Liz Fraser is one of the only originals. They're just regular people, too. I got to meet her once, she was very shy, which puts a weird curve on music as well. Imagine that sound coming out of her mouth when she's in the kitchen scrambling eggs.

Was music your first true love?

Besides sex? One surrounds the other. I can remember being obsessed with my stepfather's stereo, getting into trouble for using it. He was really possessive of control over it, like a car. It was expensive equipment, so I was really careful. Then one day, I wanted to listen to a live bootleg of Jimi Hendrix, and he went mad. I had a tape player in my room, I shared it with another kid in the family. You had to stick a hanger in it for it to work.

How do you feel when you open your mouth and sing?

Like it's real. I feel like crying. I feel like I am crying! It's the middle point between laughing and immense joy and crying. I feel the best when I'm singing.

When did you start?

In front of an audience at a family get-together. My stepfather got drunk and fell asleep in front of everyone, and my grandmother got really embarrassed, so to direct attention away from him, I sung every Elton John song I knew. I was a huge fan then. They gave me some silver dollars for doing it. I was 13 (laughs). My friend and I started play electric guitars, you know, 'Stairway To Heaven', for a talent show at junior high school. We lost…We were living in southern California then. I later had a band in northern California, in Willetts, called Axxis. It wasn't my idea. It's one of the 19 cities I've lived in, I attended four high schools. One I spent two weeks in. My mum was quite a gypsy.

What did you make of your own voice?

I hated it, but I got over it. I'm horribly self-critical. I think the first time I heard it, I thought no way could I ever keep anything from anyone, it was all there in the voice. Some ways that people sing, they put it across in language, and it's almost impossible, because they have a wall between them and the expression. I'm trying to get deeper in the hole, trying to learn things when I hear voices.

Did the concept of singing on a stage come easily to you?

It was totally natural, I just did it. It was like going to the beach, like, I'm going into the ocean! I never thought about it. I first sang at a dance in Northern California Methodist Church, to high school kids. When I was 13, I already knew what I wanted to do. My all-time favourite was Led Zeppelin, and I knew I wanted to belong to that. In the '70s, there was an overspill of rock life, which becomes coffee table material, with books on Kiss and rock stars on TV. I knew it was possible for some people to do it for a living. I spent hours listening to Magical Mystery Tour. I felt like an archaeologist, which is fine, because I liked dinosaurs! But that was the wrong direction.

I left home when I was 17, because I was tired of moving around. I played in lots of LA bands, just to make money. There was a reggae band for a while, The AKB Band, a rag-tag motley crew, with one rasta guy. I played guitar. We ended up backing up U-Roy, Shinehead and Judy Mowatt, and at the Bob Marley day at Long Beach. We did cheesy session work for demos, too.

What did the experience teach you?

The simplicity. I guess it didn't teach me much at the time. It's like your parents telling you what not to do. But Pablo, the rasta, everything he said about playing makes sense now. Forget the next band. I then decided not to spread myself that thin. I didn't like southern California, LA especially. Hollywood isn't a real town, but that's the reality of it. I'd wanted to see New York since I saw it on TV when I was 12, to experience the energy, so I took off in 1990. I got a couple of jobs, and went hungry for a long while, before I got an offer to record songs in LA, so I flew back, and recorded four songs. I went back-and-forth a bit, before I met Gary Lucas at a show in New York, at a tribute show to my father. I thought playing with Gary would be interesting but it turned out to be a disaster. We had two completely different paths…the cart was before the horse. But I learnt to go out and sing, in impossibly intimate settings, when guys are right up against you. You learn how to move a room. The biggest challenge is to put a song across live. The audience shouldn't see your face, or your body, they should just hear you.

Do you enjoy the New York scene?

I dig it. If I was in LA, I wouldn't be doing anything, but here, there's a real respect. There's a respect for anything original. Maybe I'm overpoweringly romanticising New York, but so many amazing things happen here on an ordinary level, like Lou Reed lives here, wow! I first heard him in '76 but he got into my soul, it just takes one time, like Helen Keller…it's just the sound of the song. I was in somebody else's car, feeling lonely. Heroin is so beautiful, like a big black kiss, the way it builds. He sounds like a punk who knows everything. He's got such erudition, but he's not too smart.

What stage are you at right now?

Always at the beginning. I'd love to make a record. Clive Davis at Arista wanted to sign me but he hadn't heard me, it was just on the basis of what his right hand man, the head of A&R, had said. I plan to start from what matters. In September, I'll perform all new material, a lot of covers, and I wanna find people to play with. Yeah, a band, just because of the certain feeling I need. An energy.

Can I raise the delicate matter of your dad, Tim?

Sometimes, with people who knew him, they've come for a nice night out, but they see me, they don't think about him. Those who do, I don't hang around them. We're different. The people who knew him, they have apparently a very magic memory, but it's been a claustrophobic thing all my life. I knew him for a total of nine days. He never wrote, never called.

Do people claim that you're just your father's son?

If anyone mentions that, I walk. If I go to a club, and some writer uses that area, then I rip the shit down and say, Fuck you, see you later, we can talk about this next time, because I'm on my own.

Do you listen to his records?

Yeah, mostly to learn about him as a person. He wrote a couple of songs about me and my mother, which is sometimes tough. His style has nothing to do with what I do. It's funny that we were born with the same parts, but when I sing, it's me. Technically, I can do what he did, but our expression is not the same, it's a completely different sphere. His was a different time, influenced by Dylan and the folkies. I don't even talk like him. But I can do a good impersonation of him, knitting up my eyebrows, which makes people laugh.

As far as music goes, so many people who I know and love, who give me so much, they don't even know me yet. I want to make something completely new. I was into Miles Davis in 1984, he said he could tell when people were paying tribute to him but it was just copying. The only way to pay tribute is to bring something new to the fold. I want to work so hard that everything of me bums away, like the chemical in the match. Which leaves what really is me, or what I think is me. It can be such a joy. Like the Beatles, they were geniuses, you know? Music's like a sign language between people, so when a guy from Iran or America hears The Beatles, they go 'Wow!' They don't think of killing each other. There's something about music that hits the cavemen in us, even more than a speech or painting. I just want to achieve my own vibe. I want to go someplace else. There's more ways of saying 'I love you', more ways of saying 'where the hell do I fit in?', more ways of saying 'why doesn't anyone love me?, 'when is somebody going to want to kiss me?' I'm sick of waiting, waiting to be understood. And it's nothing arty, nothing lofty, it's just fucking different, and I want to leave this world behind a little so that maybe I will see that it's bigger and I haven't left it at all.