Digital Cowboy

I don’t mind doin’ this because I’m cheap and tired at the moment, too.

If heaven ain’t a lot like Dixie,
I don’t wanna go.
If heaven ain’t a lot like Dixie,
I’d just as soon stay home.

I was one of the chosen few
To be born in Alabam.
I’m just like my Daddy’s son,
I’m proud of who I am.

I went through a lot of good women,
And I shook ol’ Jim Beam’s hand.
If I never see the pearly gates,
I’ve walked through the Promised Land.

Now the question becomes, who’s sicker? Me or Hank? Because those lyrics are clearly stupid.

I didn’t want to out him like this, but he gave me no choice. I made the allegation about his homosexuality on another blog and he just responded, on the phone, by alleging that “Miami Vice” is gay.

As I told him… Philip Michael Thomas may have been the worst actor ever put on network TV and his music is worse than his acting. But Don Johnson is a god among men and the directing on that show made sure that we often got a chance to look directly down the very large barrel of his Smith & Wesson.

Dif’s P89, while a nice gun, pales in comparison.

I won’t even really get into the cars. But what other show can you name that has ever shown a Countach in all its glory? “Miami Vice” did it more than once. They even did it with a white one once.

Black and red Lambos are boring. I know because I’ve seen ‘em up close and personal, more than once. You need white to show off that design and “Miami Vice” did it while Dif was still playin’ soldier.

Michael Mann’s a genius.

Especially, if it’s the old stuff.

Good things we had,
Are going bad
And I don’t know why.

I’d turn it around
If I knew how.

I’m pushin’ aside
All of my pride
And it’s worth a try.

‘Cause I’m in too deep to pull out now.

Can’t step aside
And let you slide
Right outta my life.
It would cause more hurt
Than the law will allow.

I’m in too deep to pull out now.

I’ve done some of these lyrics before… but I don’t think I’ve done all of ‘em. Even if I have, they deserve to be repeated. I love humor and I know Heidi will like the scatological element even if it repulses Andrea.

I used to love your
Flintstone toes.
And you folding your underwear
Like a flag.

And I loved
Your porous, fleshy,
broken nose.
Cleaning your belly-button out
With a sponge and a rag.

But that was back
Before you sucked.
That was back before
You got a big ol’ butt.

Back before you cheated,
And the devil stole your heart.
That was back.
Back… before you sucked.

Yeah, it was cute the way you
Left the door open when ya pooped.
Yeah, it was neat the way you
Passed gas in front of my mama.

And I loved the way you
Passed out in the bathtub.
A case of Coors’ Light
Must’ve been nice to sleep on.

Am I going to hell, now, do ya think?

I can do worse.

When they say that country music is depressing, this is the song they’re talking about.

(Don’t fret. This isn’t my current life, but I do get it. And, by the way, my friend Chad does the song better than the guy that wrote and recorded it. I miss Chad. I wish he’d come around from time to time.)

An empty glass,
And my last cigarette.
Closing time,
And I’m drunk again.

But somehow
I’ll make it home.
And cry myself to sleep.

That’s the way
The day ends
Every night,
For me.

Every night,
I’m in some bar.
Pouring whiskey
On a heart that’s on fire.

Forgetting you
Is no easy thing.
Each night, for me
Always ends the same….

With an empty glass.
My last cigarette.
Closin’ time.
And I’m drunk again.

But somehow
I’ll make it home.
And cry myself to sleep.

That’s the way
The day ends
Every night,
For me.