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Tuesday, March 8, 2011

A Letter to My Mom

Dear Mom,

Hope everything's well back home in Charlottesville!  The tour is off to a decent start!  So far all the kids have been very responsive to our music, and everyone has been very hospitable.  I woke up in Richmond, VA two mornings ago, and we were invited to what white people call a "brunch party".  Apparently, for white twenty somethings, it is common to invite a bunch of your other white friends over and make food together and talk about stuff -- it was quite a cultural experience!

There were wonderful pastries, grav lax, mimosas, and some sort of dish involving eggs, spinach and heavy cream.  I was too embarrassed to ask the girl who made it what it was because I couldn't remember her name, you know, because they all look the same to me.  Gertrude?  Maybe it was Lucy... or Betty.

For dinner, me and the boys went to a popular joint called Sticky Rice.  I had a green curry rice noodle dish with chicken and it was probably the driest noodle dish I've ever had in my life!  But then I ordered an extra side of curry sauce and it was quite enjoyable.  Unfortunately, as tasty as it was, it gave me some Biblically proportioned gas.  I let one rip in the bathroom at the house show we played, and I heard one very attractive girl exclaim, "Jesus!  It smells like bad sex in there!", whatever that means!

After the show, we got a hotel room in your favorite place in the country, Colonial Williamsburg!  Although we didn't have time to get cashew brittle or churn butter, we did get the opportunity to eat at a garbage dump of a place called Mama Steve's!  There was a was an unabridged history card of the place on our table, but I'll go ahead and give you the abridged version:

"In 1969, a couple of Greek people started a restaurant.  They died.  Then some other people ran it.  Then they died too.  Now this old bag runs it and our food is mediocre and overpriced, and we make our waitresses dress like 17th century slaves."

Pictured, is a perfect example what grits should NOT be:  flavorless, boring, and soupy.  If I wanted something so mushy and bland in my mouth, I'd kiss Uncle Menudo! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!

After that we drove to God's gift to ugly, Norfolk, VA.  Seriously, Mom, I know the Lord works in mysterious ways, and everything happens for a reason, but the landscape of this city is a cruel joke.  We decided that our arteries were getting a little out of hand, so we punished them with BBQ.

You should make sure to tell Billy that I ate at a BBQ place named after a Godzilla character!  Also make sure to tell him that the half chicken I ordered was microwaved to order!  Not to say it wasn't delicious, just a little difficult to eat.

Remember watching that movie, "Spirited Away", and there was that scene where the parents were eating and eating and eating, and they slowly turned into pigs?  The guy who ran this place looked EXACTLY like that, and I could barely understand a word he was saying -- just like you!  Just kidding!

We drove to Virginia Beach afterwards to play a nice little art space packed with fifteen year old androgynous hookers.  Finding a place to stay was a little difficult, but we ended up staying at a house with a chinchilla, a comatose cat named "General Tso", and a rabbit that was shaped like a basketball!  I came down with a bad headache, but our host gave me some medical-grade marijuana called, "AK-47", and put on the sci-fi classic, "Logan's Run".  It did the trick!

Tomorrow we leave Virginia and make our way down South where Adam Brock says the roads are paved with Wal-Marts.  Love you Mom!  Make sure Dad stops repeating himself all the time, and tell Billy to move out of the house already!



  1. Hayao Miyazaki would be very honored at your reference.

    I like my grits soupy though, maybe its a white people named Howard thing