Bettie B. Goode

Sometimes, you just can’t fight the urge to have your hair shaved into lightning bolts, hop a plane to San Francisco, and stand glaring in chaps on a stage in front of 1,500 drunken lunatics. I did this at the behest of my alter-ego Windhammer and the 2008 Cuervo Black US Air Guitar National Finals last Friday while the rest of the world had decidedly less fun watching the Olympic opening ceremonies.

The competitors may… See more →

I like adjectives that are both crystal clear and totally vague. For example, you may be coming off a “good” weekend just like I am, but it’s entirely possible that the “good” elements of our respective weekends were completely different. Perhaps you were served an amazing slice of peach cobbler, or your blind date turned out to be George Clooney, or you finally disposed of some incriminating evidence that’s been haunting you for years. But… See more →