Thing is, I can't really sing country yet. Or play a guitar. Or dress like that. But my dream remains, like a faraway, shadowy naked man down the road. You know he's there, somewhere in the distance, and like destiny, you know you're going to meet him one way or the other.
So instead of learning music or composing lyrics, I figured I'd at least come up with album titles. That's the hardest part, I think. Coming up with a theme that'll sell in the crowded marketplace for down-home music. I haven't done any album concept art yet, but here are my titles. I dare you to tell me you wouldn't rush out to Wal-Mart and buy any one of these albums:
Me 'n Connie Sellecca
Chaps (But Not the British Kind)
From Kissin' Her, My Lips Are Hurtin'
Some Gave Bubkis
Cowpokes & Chamomille
Now, Here's the Shitkicker...
Not My Horse
O, Brother, Why You Illin'?
Whose Bandana is She Wearin' Now?
My Boot, the Taliban's Ass
The River Done Dried Up and Left
The Legend of Cargo Pants McGill
Jesus' Saddle's Got Wings
Screw you, Nashville Star. I don't need your help to become the savior of C&W.
Hey, look at this! Stuff to buy! Haaawwwt-Damn!
"Are you 'Black Pearl?' No? Then get away! Now! Hurry! And don't look at my briefcase!"