From: ***** ******<jamhandy@*****.***>
Date: **************** ****** ********
To: Htos1
Subject: Re: the last production @ the Hideout



Well, Bro, you have to consider the source when somebody says shit like "..do it at a Pro Level..."... most probably the "Accuser of the Bretheran" on that comment would be our favorite Swedish-perverted Chef (Beeshski Borshski) who, as you remember, could not even figure out how to plug extremely well-labeled RCA plugs into a receiver from a Cassette deck (or any other AC appliance for that matter...)

Who, by the way, never even one time took the time to practice an actual harmonica part as-written in ANY song for the last 30+ years of thinking he should go to Europe and play the blues...

I honestly think the only draw Europe has on him is Amsterdam, where Prostitution and Pot Smoking are both leagal... and let's not forget his fascination with Absynthe...

Yeah, that guy... that professional music ciritc who got so stoned one night that he thought the whole (unparanoid) world was trying to rip him off for the most ridiculous items...

Yeah, that same raving dickhead that the last time we talked on the phone several months ago, got to be so ignorantly belligerent about idiotic babbles of bullshit, I hung up on him, only to end the conversation with "***, don't ******* call here anymore..."

Yeah, that guy... right?

The "Peavey Harmonicist of the Year" for 28 years running...

Winner of the "Amelia Island Plantation's Frog In Boiling Water Career Portfolio" award...

Three-time achiever of the "Jacksonville Busted John Trophy" (a bronze bust of a prostitute stopping a Plymouth Horizon on one of Jacksonville's backstreets)

Triathalon gold mealist for "Florida's Most Visited Titty Bars"

Who took the "Sigmund Freud Sexual Deviation and ****** Nanny Fantasy Therapy Course"... and flunked...

Who was very concerned that his father was a sexual deviant homo... and was glad that he wasn't... as we all watched his father die of AIDs... and still may wonder what the sexual malfunction is in ****** men...

What, the same guy who insists on using a Stevie-Ray-Vaughan-Style Fender 4 x 10" Super Reverb for HARMONICA when he could be using something with a single 10" speaker, that is about 100 pounds less to carry around?

What, Mr. Motivation, who goes out, without consulting anyone on the planet, and buys a "PA"... a Peavey XR-700, and two, soon-to-be-blown-up-by-Peavey-ground-spikes Speaker cabinets?

Who's last biggest brag when last we spoke was his lifetime achievement of obtaining and hoarding over SEVEN-HUNDRED bottles of booze (where does he lay his T-Shirts and towels on laundry day?)

But he claims to NEVER drink to GET FUCKED UP... and claims he is NOT an alcoholic...) (an alcoholic to him is **** *****'s dad... and he says he'll never be that low... but to the rest of the world, people can easily picture "Thurston Howell The Third" with too many martinis night after night... Not an alcoholic?)

Who claims he doesn't have a drug problem... except that every conversation we have had for the last (at least) three years, no matter what time of day or night... you can hear a BONG bubbling in the backfround... Can't he sit that shit down long enough to talk on the phone? Evidently not...

The same individual I named "Captain Ozium" back in the 80s, who always had a comntainer of Ozium in his car in case the cops pulled him over right after smoking a joint...

Annnnnnnnnnnnd....

Let's not forget about the "Tom Jones A Girl Look At Me Sideways So She Must Love Me Or Something" award

Let's never forget "The Tom Jones A Girl Looked At Me Sideways So She Must Love Me Or Something and I Can't Figure Out Why She Doesn't Want to Come Over" lifelong song-book and blues repretoire...

And last but not least, that's not forget the "My Friends Are My Personallly Exploitable Slave Bastards" world Olympic gold medal, US Nationals gold medal, World Championship Afro-American Collegiate Minds Area A Terrible Thing to Waste gold medal collection which is framed and hung on the wall right next to his 717th bottle of premium liquor...

I wouldn't worry about him... I got HIS ******* number.....

HTO's 2.1