kevincasper.net

could anyone really care about chelsea clinton’s fucking wedding?
jesus.
i’m going to reiterate a point christian made earlier about the – how do i say this? – perceived shallowness of the lovely bride to be and her beau.
chelsea clinton, daughter of a former president, daughter of a former senator, daughter of the secretary of state. [...]

a recent discovery:
i have added to my lengthy list of feminized traits – my affinity for fancy hair and skin care products, propensity to cry uncontrollably during songs/movies/tv shows/sporting events, love of cold canned beer in a camouflage coozie (that one’s regional), etc. – with shoe shopping online.
browsing, more appropriately, as i’m too [...]

the magnolia cafe in st. francisville loves flatbed honeymoon, and we return that sentiment back ten fold. they even signed us up for two more gigs in the coming months.
nice folks, nice food, cute girls.
and everyone but me tried out the sleeping quarters this time and they were incredible. jordan and rebecca [...]

sitting in line at a mcdonalds the other night and saw this guy in a chicken suit entering the restaurant. asked the guy taking my money, ‘hey, what’s with the guy in the chicken suit?’ he says, ’sir, i don’t know nothin’ about that.’

this is lefty the first morning after sleeping on [...]

a flood.

a roy.

a dog with a bone.

a bone with a dog.

this is what ‘the greatest single moment of my life and i’m not kidding, really, this is the greatest single moment of my life’ looks like.

this is jordan in the cane fields shooting.

one of these.

and some of these.

this is what ‘i just won free [...]

rainy day, dream away …
some good gigging recently. lady of the barge had our virgin gig on thursday at chelsea’s. mellow crowd on a weeknight, but we played pretty well considering we’d only been practicing for a few weeks. eight tunes. felt good. onward and upward.
the flatbed honeymoon set [...]

i woke up twice today. the second time came around 1:30. or was it 2? i still haven’t changed my alarm clock from daylight savings time (and have even set the alarm factoring that fact in, god help me), so i really don’t know when i got up. is it thursday? [...]

if its too loud, you’re too old … the heavenly light of dinosaur jr.

i once asked paco, after he saw dinosaur jr., “what does j. mascis look look like?” paco, always the poet, said, “he looks … he looks … he looks like shit.”

this guy is a good friend of mine. he played [...]

the show. the road. flatbed honeymoon. lake charles.
through swamps and rice fields. through lafayette, dense and confused. through dreamsicle sunsets, black birds, bottlenecks. through dead baby j and backwards wooden bridges, unfound. through great plastic pigs and hound piss ornaments on the move. through breaux bridge inflections [...]

hi all.
back in black from a fortnight traveling through the barren wasteland known as illinois. actually, it was a lovely trip and even mother nature kept her big yap shut for a change. cold, oh yes, but sunny and still and pleasant enough for this thin-skinned southern boy to endure without too much [...]