Oh no, this again: Guilt.

But, don’t worry, I’m already over it.

You see, I was all ready to make a big announcement – props included – but then Tom Salmon beat me to the punch. And you know how I hate to follow a crowd. Or a person. Or a dope. Or….

So instead of becoming a Republican with Jim Douglas’ approval, I think I’ll remain a socialist. I guess it really wasn’t that hard of a decision. In fact, once I saw how high I’d have to pull my pants up (think: Douglas), I realized I’d never be able to – um – pull it off. Besides, I don’t smell of lavender.

Speaking of how I smell (because I know you’re wondering), consider the fine smell of chainsaw, sweat and a liberal blogger in my midst. All together now: Ew.

Yep, I’ve been busy tending to my most dreaded obligation: The dreaded “w” word, work.

To be specific, I’ve been reclaiming an old pasture and cutting firewood in the wilds of Walden this week. And I’ve had some interesting company in the process. Hint: He goes by “J.D.” and he’s a fucking liberal blogger.

I don’t know what came over me. I think it must have been the great socialist/radical spirits or something. But I think I can remember them whispering something in my ear that sounded like: “Reach out and rescue the poor bastard.”

And so I did — by offering him a most glamorous job of cutting trees and working with yours truly. Ah, the perks of stimulating political talk between the roar of the saws.

That’s all I’ve got, folks. Just work and the delightful knowledge that all the ninny political stuff of the day is delightfully passing me by, thus sparing me the urge to sit down and write something like, “fools, total fools, and absolute fools are ruling our nation.”

Fuck that (for now).

Oh great, Slim Jim (aka: Governor Jim Douglas) is apparently getting cold feet. Because after we met last weekend he was all but promising me the world (read: Brian Dubie be damned). I’m guessing that his right-hand man, Neil Lunderville, is the fly in the ointment.
And, please, don’t take that as an off-colored shot at his rather noteworthy diminutive nature.

I’m quickly finding out that these kinds of negotiations are very, very difficult. Trust me, I wouldn’t have bothered with the meeting or the photo-op if I didn’t think I was going to come out smelling like a rose. Face it, I’m that kind of a guy.

But there’s still hope. Slim Jim’s people are still talking to my people. And I’m hoping that it will all be worked out before long so that we can gather once again for what is surely going to be a monumental photo-op and announcement.

Have I mentioned that the Governor smells of lavender? He does. And he’s also got a very firm grip when it comes to his handshakes.

Don’t worry, I’m not smitten. Just hopeful.

Is there a difference?

But the ball is in Slim Jim’s court. If his people sign off to what I’ve called (this is clever): “my final offer,” then everything should be public in a matter of days.

Trust me, this is big.

Slim Jim’s team even offered me what they called a “chill out” offering: Another photo (see above) of our post-meeting handshake that they still claim should be captioned, “Done Deal.” I just wish Slim Jim would smile with me the same way he does when the cameras aren’t around.

We shall see. And you shall stay tuned.

Click a song (and then turn it up).

spin-around

pony

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jubilee

Yo. If you’ve got a few bucks to waste, try wasting it on the newly available Drunken Boat on iTunes. (Disclaimer: I don’t get a dime from it even though I’m beating the hell out of the drums — thanks, bro). But, be careful, there’s another bunch of punks from out West who’ve stolen our name and put out some lame stuff in the years since “the original” went off to other projects.

Buyer hint: Get the Drunken Boat CD with the flowers on the cover (circa 1990). It’s the best.

And below is a little something I found on the web about our band. It was our attempt at “pop.” Good luck with that. Enjoy.