Ramblings from a bloke with his head in the clouds, literally


Changes, History and a losing a life long friend.

After the big debacle of an event which I like to now call “the breaking of the classes” also known as expansion launch I have spent a bunch of time pondering my main character.
When I got to level 100 I felt very under whelmed by it. I was dying every few seconds, I didn’t seem to be able to do much damage and overall my much loved main character Hugebloke seemed very lack lustre.
I went through a process of re-glyphing, optimizing using websites and add-ons and double checking my rotations as all to no use. I finally come to the conclusion that my class was broken and I just simply would not enjoy playing that character anymore.
For the first time since launch day of burning crusade I was not enjoying playing my class and it hit me pretty hard. Within the first week of the Warlords dropping, I had come to the conclusion that I would have to mothball Hugebloke and move onto another character to find that enjoyment that I so much craved for.
The night I came to this conclusion, I was heartbroken. Now this is the bit were my crazy really starts to shine but here goes….

The one and only, my life long virtual buddy.

The one and only, my life long virtual buddy.

I felt like I was losing my best friend. A member of my family or perhaps even a small piece of myself. Pretty much every day for the better part of a touch over 8 years I have logged into the game and spent time doing what ever I do as Hugebloke. It became apparent the more I thought about what was going on that I have indeed developed this weird emotional attachment to my character and I’m actually ok with this. After all, Hugebloke really is/has become   like something out of one of my favourite movies. He has much become a “residual self image” or a digital representation of my physical self.  (5 points if you get the reference).

Now that may not make a lot of sense to others but if there is even one person out there that understands what I’m talking about then my job is done.
What I’m talking about is the projection of my physical self into the digital world. My character has taken on the personality traits that I have given him over the years. He has a circle of friends in server of people that know him and recognise him. They remember the dumb shit that I have done or the amusing antics that I have got up to. They remember the conversations and have entrusted my character with their most trusted secrets.
My character in a way really has taken on his own life. All be it controlled by me via a keyboard and mouse but you get where I’m going with this.

Hugebloke has become the representation of the adventure that I haven’t been able to go on in my real life. He is my escape into an alternate world that has sometimes been needed to get away from reality. When I battled crippling depression, Hugebloke was an acceptable way for me to still interact with other characters. I would forget that they were other people controlling the characters and would interact with them as the characters they were thus alleviating the stress of dealing with people. When I was injured and could barely walk let alone leave the house, I was still able to log in and go on these amazing adventures with my friends. I can log in and be the social butterfly chatting to everyone and anyone I come across or I can sit quietly on a lake and fish from a lake without saying a word to anyone. I took part in the million gnome march to protest warrior changes back in vanilla, I died amongst millions as Azeroth was infected with the blood plague and then again years later with the zombie plague. I defeated dragons, demonic night elves and possessed former paladins of the light and many more amazing memorable moments.
Hugebloke really was a means for me to experience all these adventures be it solo or with friends.
So the thought of putting him up on the shelf and moving onto another toon just broke me. All those adventures and friends, people recognizing me from prior guilds or that one dungeon run 5 years ago because I made such an impact. I was confused and hurt by these changes as it was the first time I have ever not felt like playing that character. I honestly felt lost and didn’t know if to start playing another toon or stop playing WoW all together. All the hours and achievements that I had spent or earnt. Would I have to start all again? Would I have to build new street cred on another toon? Would the game ever be the same again? Would I be the bitter old man and point blank refuse to start fresh, spending the rest of my days playing WoW on a cardboard box with a crayon drawing of a computer and my character in the main street of Stormwind?

I dont know who Sylvia is but im stealing her computer to play cardboard WoW.

I dont know who Sylvia is but im stealing her computer to play cardboard WoW.

I guess the point of this all is to say that it’s ok.
It’s ok to have an odd emotional link to your toon. Society might think your nuts but I don’t.

I understand what its like. While I know allot of you will be sitting back think…this dude either needs to cut back what he smoking or share that sh*t around. But I know there are a few people out there that share my feelings on this and understand what I’m talking about.

I think that is the real nuts and bolts of why I love world of Warcraft so much. The fact that I can get so into a character and feel so much pain at the thought of losing them.

Well played Blizzard, well played.

Share your thoughts on this piece or ask me to cover another topic, id be happy to oblige.



My World of Warcraft.

My World of Warcraft.

I’ve been trying to find the time to put my jumbled rambling thoughts into line and into a post for a while now so here’s hoping this goes ok.

I began playing back in the early days and while I’ve had my spurts of time of here and there I have pretty much had a subscription running the entire time. I have spent hours upon hours dedicated to my characters in particular my main character Hugebloke the amazing dreanei shaman.
I have done nearly every quest in the game; I have seen the sites and done the raids. I’ve defeated bad guys atop temples and gone fishing in the most serene vistas I’ve ever seen. I’ve accomplished great feats and died doing the most ridiculously easy things you could imagine, but the fact is…there is always a reason to come back. The game has given me so much I decided it was time to figure out what it is that has kept me coming back. What has kept me so involved and interacted all these years.
At the height of this game in the Wrath expansion (woot woot) there was 12 million (give or take) active accounts. Now that is a metric shit load of people playing.  Imagine 12 million different personalities giving life to characters in the game and you begin to realize why the community is such a mixed melting pot.
As a simple example you will have the trolls, the comedic geniuses spamming trade chat with anal and chuck Norris jokes, the savvy business men trying to conquer the world via the auction house, tomorrows great leaders raid leading 10/25/40 other people to greatness, the dirty trollop shaking his or her money maker on the mailbox for gold, or that guy that just has to leeroy everything in sight.

The WoW community is literally made of up every type of person you can imagine and I think that’s half the reason that it works so well and I keep coming back.
After playing the game for a bit you will ignore the ones that annoying with their vile tongues and sense of entitlement (something I am seeing more and more of lately) and you will learn to really enjoy the company of those that you see eye to eye with.

When you spend so much time in a virtual world with people, you begin to learn more about them. It’s when you start know the person behind the character a bit more that you become attached to not only your character but theirs as well which in turn leads to friendships off screen.
I have met so many people from playing WoW it insane. Even if our interaction is via Skype, or vent or actually meeting some other players in person, it’s that level of interaction that keeps me coming back.
Now this isn’t going to be the case for everyone out there, but I know it’s the case for a lot of people.
The variety of people that I have met from the game is incredible. People that I would have not otherwise met because we simply don’t move in the same circles. Some of these people have turned out to be complete fucktards and then a very select few I consider so close and so amazing that they flew in from all over the country to be present at my wedding earlier this year and I consider them some of my closest long distance low maintenance friends.

Everyone has their own reasons for playing WoW, while most would just put it down to “I enjoy the game for …….reason” I think there is a lot more to it. I think deep down most people wouldn’t admit it but they play for the sense of community as well.  They long for that interaction with other people in the unique ways that WoW enables.

Ok so yeah its lead to a generation of keyboard warriors who literally think they are the greatest warrior in all the land and can flame and abuse anyone they like…..until mum tells them its dinner time and they have to go wash up. But it’s also been an outlet for so many via the community it provides.

wrath buddies

I have seen first-hand the variety and here are a few examples of different types of people and reasons:
The single mum who was abandoned by her former husband because their child was special needs. She used to have a night nurse for him 3 times a week so she could have some downtime from her near 24 hour constant care. She never liked to be too far away so playing wow enabled her to have interaction with other adults while still being at arm’s length should she need. She rarely did anything other than level and picks flowers and tells filthy inappropriate jokes in guild chat but that was her outlet.

The agoraphobic early 20s bloke that couldn’t leave his house at all. He was afraid of people and the outside world in a physical sense. He was the nicest lad I’ve ever met on vent and Wow provided him with a means to feel normal in mixing with others. While he couldn’t bring himself to go outside, WoW gave him a place to explore and be outside in a virtual sense.

The fresh retired cop who had no idea how to spend his days until he found WoW.
with a lot of time and nowhere to go in particular, the guild gave him a sense of belonging and something to do, he enjoyed being the old respected guy that everyone turned to because simply put, he had the time to learn the game in and out.

The young girl that used WoW and our guild as a sense of escapism from reality. She was deeply depressed at not having achieved anything in life like the rest of her family, she suffered all kinds of medical issues because of it and her social life suffered. While she recovered we as a guild gave her safe place where she could speak her mind. She came with us on adventures and got that sense of achieving something from our raid progression, dinging achievements and getting her first legendary.

And scarily enough there is people like me.
I fit into a bunch of different categories. I have been that guy on nightshifts that had nothing to do but play wow and talk to people. I have been the guy that was deeply depressed and found my only success or sense of achievement at the time in smashing through a raid boss. I have been the guy too fucked up with a back injury I can barely scratch my own butt let alone go out and have a social life so I relied on wow to be my social interaction.

The fact of that matter is that everyone has their own reasons for playing but also playing their characters the way they do. But it’s the fact that we do it together that makes it so consuming.

Like I said, this won’t is the rule of thumb for everyone. But for a large proportion of people I believe this to be the case.  Especially when you get to the end of an expansion like we have recently and there is little left to do. It’s the people that you enjoy interacting with that make it so enticing to come back each day. You crave the interaction in whatever form for whatever reason. Even with the game being chock full of elitist assholes lately (whom I’m sure have their own reason for being like that, perhaps some power trip ego boost megalomaniac complex or something?) but those people don’t phase me too much anyways. Simply if you don’t get along with someone in the game it’s no big deal, you delete them of a friends list or don’t pug with them again and it’s no biggie. But if you find a good group or a good guild, and become invested in it then it can literally change your life.

These are that people that make you laugh, make your cry with happy n stupid, you achieve great feats with, you work with each other to solve the game problems and sometimes help each other through real life problems. You develop friendships and sometimes relationships, (I’ve lost track of how many people I’ve heard of hooking up or getting married from meeting some in game).

its not that i dont have a life, its that i have many.

its not that i dont have a life, its that i have many.

These people become the one you open up to about personal shit because it’s easier than doing it to someone face to face. They are the advice givers and the people that amaze you with just how stupid or hilarious they can be. They are the ones that you go on epic adventures together or just sit in the middle of trade district in storm wind doing absolutely nothing because your too busy talking in guild chat or laughing on vent. They are the people that help you beat Swifty’s ass and turn you into the greatest gladiator of the arena ever, or the people that you sit on Skype with until 4am because you simply can’t get enough of their “foreign” accents and hilarious jokes.
They become your family when sometimes your real family is lacking, your global friends and your team mates.
These are the things that make up the community I am a part of. These are the reason I keep coming back each day for hours on end.

It took me a bit to figure out and realistically I’m only scratching at the surface of a huge topic here.

It boils down to why wouldn’t I want to be a part of something that means too much to so many people in so many different ways? Yeah I get pissed off when people say to me it’s just a game. For me it’s my life.
It’s no different to a car enthusiast or a die-hard sports fan, an artist or model maker.
This is my hobby, this is my life…..this is my world of Warcraft.

30 Random facts about Me and World of Warcraft.

World of Warcraft Logo30 Warcraft Facts about me you didn’t know.

Someone sent me a 30 day challenge for world of Warcraft. I highly doubt I would be able to keep it up over 30 days so I’m going to cheat and put it into one epic post as best I can.

So here goes:

Your first character? 

My first character was Doggerus, a human rogue. I had never played this type of game at that time and really had no idea what the hell I was doing let alone about picking classes or races and the likes.


The biggest jerk you’ve dealt with (in game)? 
Not so much the single biggest, but the type of jerk….you know the one. Everyone knows the type. They are the type that used to pull the boss to wipe the raid after they had left group. The kind of player that sneaks in and ninjas your loot or kill before you have a chance to know what was happening. The kind of player that joins your guild, asks for help in a quest/gold/raid/achieve etc. and once getting it clears out the guild bank and abandons the guild.
Yeah, you know the type.


A class you’re awful at playing? 
Pretty much anything that isn’t my shammy. I can play them all, just not play them all well.


Your favourite zone (Classic, BC, WotLK & Cata)? 

Hard one as I have so many favourites.
Classic would be Elwynn. I just love Stormwind and the whole human starting zone. Stormwind really is an epic city

BC that’s easy…Nagrand. How can you not love it?
Wrath is a 2 way tie between Ice crown and storm peaks.
Cata I would have to say Uldam

And adding in for Pandas I would have to go with the valley.


Your favourite classic instance? 

Dead mines for sure. I had some epic moments in there back in the day.


Your favourite quest line?
After watching the anniversary special where Chris Metzen and the team explained the story behind the “A Tale of Valour” in Ice Crown, two days later I quested another toon through there. It took on a whole new meaning and changed my outlook on the game for ever. I still make sure that I take all my toons through that quest line.


Your favourite piece of lore? 

Pretty much anything to do with the Lich king story line. Just that simple.


PVE all the way.
Pvp annoys me and frustrates me to death and Rp I have never dabbled in even though I find it amazingly interesting.


Horde or Alliance (and why)? 

Alliance. Just cause. I dunno…..I think both factions have their merits and weaknesses.


Your favourite mount.

My x-53 touring rocket. Dunno why, I use it all the time tho. Considering how many mounts I have this is kind of weird…


Your favourite gear set. 

Tier 10 Frost witch on my shammy. First full set of armour I earn the hard way from my favourite story and favourite raid. Still wear it now thanks to transmogs


Your achievements (choose one character and link it). 


Your favourite Burning Crusade instance? 

I think it would have to be ramps. Spent so much time in there and never really got bored of it.


When did you start playing? 

About 6 months after the initial release of the game give or take.


Your favourite Wrath instance? 
Any of the ones that involved direct contact with Arthas. To me it helped the story line keep going and flowing and kept you in touch with the big bad ass of the expansion. Basically it just provoked more need to kick his ass as well.


What do you listen to while playing? 
I tend to watch a lot of movies or TV shows on the second monitor, especially while I farm. Lately I’ve been watching a lot of twitch feeds and making some amazing new friends though


Your favourite WoW related YouTube video? 

Leeroy Jenkins for sure.
That shit still cracks me up and I quite often Leeroy both in game and in real life.


Best and Worst thing about WoW? 
Best thing: the people that I have met and the friends I have made. Some who although I don’t see that often (either in game or in person) I still consider to be some of my closest and dearest friends. Hell, 3 of my best buds that I met in wow flew into town to attend my wedding.

the stigma that the game has. Like, when people find out you’re a WoW player they automatically hang shit on you, presume you’re a dungeon dwelling ubernerd and have no life. I hate that.


Favourite class and why?

My Shammy because it’s my main and I know how to play it. Lol

seriously though, I just dig the shamanistic class story and background.


How did you come up with your main’s name? 

On the character creation screen my Dreanei looked like he was huge and he was a bloke.
I am huge and I’m a bloke in real life too so it’s kind of made sense to me….Hugebloke


Your favourite battleground? 
Old school Alterac Valley. I’m talking the kind where you could log in and join an AV battle that had been going for 2 days already. You could play for 8 hours, go to sleep, get up go to work come home log into wow and re-join the same battle. And it would go on like that for like 8-9 days straight. That and I miss summoning the ancients too 😛


Your non-combat pets (choose one character and link it). 

Argent Squire. He so multi skilled and so cute with his little mini mount n stuff.

Argent Squire

The longest you’ve gone without playing? 

A few months during cata mainly cause I really didn’t enjoy cata at all.


Your favourite screenshot. 

 The sheer chaos and excitement on launch night. This time round it was pandas…..Opening night of Pandaria

Who do you play with? 

I do tend to fly solo for day to day stuff. If I’m not raiding current though I do enjoy hanging out and running 2 man versions of 10 man heroic raids with Wookiedin, the paladin owned by none other than Wookie of  http://www.worldofwookie.com fame


List your characters and their levels.

Hugebloke, Littlechicky, Briannabank, Ronjeremee, Zapstical, Kungfoopanda and Squidlipz are all level 90.
Then I have a splattering of different level characters that may one day get to 90 or maybe even 100 by then.


Your titles (choose one character). 
Bloodsail admiral Hugebloke is what I rock the most. It was a pig of an achieve to get and not many people are stupid enough to do it.


Your favourite and least-favourite boss? 
Arthas and Arthas.
He was a pig of thing to beat at the time, week after week of nothing but expensive repair bills but then that rare felt moment of pure elation and joy when he finally died for the first time…..never had that feeling since.


Something you worked really hard to get. 

What a long strange journey it’s been achievement was the first major achieve I ever got. I had a few smaller type ones but that was one that I decided I was going to get and set about doing the hard yards to get it. Doing all the reading and figuring out exactly what I needed to do and then actually doing it.
Took me exactly a year but god it felt good when I got it.


Your main (Armoury link & screenshot)?


Well that wraps that up.
I hope you have enjoyed learning a little more about me and my passion of Warcraft. If your utterly confused by all this and none of it makes any sense…I can send you a free trial of the game if you like! hahahahahha

If you are a fan of the game though, have a crack at doing the 30 Day WoW challenge. I would love to see some of the answers other people put to it!

Go on, you know you want to!

An overdue confession.

Bah, time to fess up….

As someone who has had many battles with depression over the majority of my adult life, even rather recently, the subject of Robin Williams’s death has been a touchy one for me.
It’s sad that it takes the passing of a celebrity of such calibre to bring depression to the attention of so many people.  But now it seems that at least a few more people are aware that it is an illness, it does have symptoms and it’s certainly not biased or overly selective in who it effects.

I’m genuinely feel sorry for people that say things like “it’s selfish” “it’s the cheat’s way out” “they didn’t consider their family or friends”. It shows that they really just don’t understand what happens to someone suffering.

As someone who has been there, I can only express that none of that even enters into your head when you are sitting at the bottom of despair. “Normal” emotions don’t surface at all and you certainly don’t think clearly. It’s not a quick fix and it can’t be simply gotten over or patched up. There is no such thing as a logical or normal way of thinking when you are fighting against a dark path.

The fact that Robin Williams spent his entire life being happy and making others laugh while suffering so badly behind closed doors that this was his only escape is a timely reminder that what you see on the outside of a person may be in stark contrast to what they are battling on the inside.

I know this for a fact as I have been hiding my battles for a while now, I have been the guy that puts on a persona just so everything appears normal…..

Just keep an eye out for your family and friends people.
Educate yourself and take note, you never know…….

here is a good place to start:


Chapter 8: Winding straight roads, Walmarts and Dearest Friends.

We left our humble hut in Shepardsville after a trip to Denny’s Diner and a near vomit inducing greasy breakfast and set out on the road in the death mobile once more.
Today was indeed the day we had feared for quite some time as it was the day we would be spending 9 hours in this little red box.

Our plan would see us journey the highways of Kentucky, Tennessee, and the bottom end of North Carolina eventually into South Carolina to a town called Spartanburg. Doesn’t sound too difficult….so we thought.

We set off down the highway on 3 and 4 lanes of one way bliss. Once we worked out that the speed limit was about 120km it didn’t seem that bad. Except for the fact that as soon as we left suburbia proper the natives decided that didn’t apply. While I was sitting on the 120, it seems that every man and his dog would blitz us by doing speeds far greater than that which was posted. Normally I would just dump the pedal and join the locals, but remember what we were driving folks. At that speed the poor little Avio was already revving its tits off and we were out of gears. I swear to this day had we pushed it much further than the 155 we hit at one point (going downhill) the damn thing would have gone in to dissipation mode and gradually disintegrated until we were left with all too familiar shape of a Flintstones car.

After the first two or three hours the boredom set it. No matter what satellite radio station we picked or how many strange cars we saw (first glimpse of Nissan cube) it was just one incredibly straight road. The strange part about it was that there was a definite bend in the road, but it was just such a minimal curve that you would barely notice. No matter how fast we went or how many rest stops we passed, the road just gradually bent for ever. Sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left. It was the windiest straight road I’ve ever been on and I hope to Christ I don’t have to journey it again anytime soon. The boredom got such that my fateful companion decided to photograph every truck coming in the opposite direction for 10 mins just to see how many there were. There are a lot of trucks in America it would seem. Put it this way. The clicking of the camera became so constant in those 10 mins I do recall threatening to pull the car over get out and break the antenna off and then use it to pierce the eye ball of he who was photographing every truck in the country. 120+ in 10 minutes going the other way for those of you playing at home.
Winding straight roads

It was about this point that we decided a food break was needed. The thing you have to understand about this is the roadside villages. Spread out across the country literally on the side of the highways are these little villages that crop out every 60-70kms or so. You take the exit ramps off into these little main street bound collections of service stations and take away food. There are no houses or businesses otherwise. Just food and fuel that is, nothing more nothing less. On this occasion we had our first encounter with “Waffle House” and I should have been suss in the first place considering we were literally in the middle of bum fuck ville nowhere. As we walked into the joint the 2 chicks that worked there were already laughing as I smashed my head on the door on the way in.

We took a pew at the bar and ordered up some waffles. “Can I have 2 choc chip waffles and syrup please?” a fairly stock standard question given the locations. “Yall keep talking like that and you can have me too. I be done in half an hour” came the reply in that cliché redneck hillbilly I just fucked my daddy who’s actually my brother kind of way. Naturally I replied in only an appropriate manner.

” Fucking jackpot! Waffles and a wife for less than 10 bucks! ONLY IN AMERICA! I LOVE THIS COUNTRY!” After making generous chitchat predominantly revolving around our accent and where we were from while getting about 38 free refills we hit the road again. All too happy to leave my waffle serving prospective wives behind, it was merely five minutes down the road and I remembered why I was so happy to get out the car in the first place.

The highway rolled over the hills and plains like you would not believe. Occasionally tantalizing us with a sheer cliff, a river or a nice looking lake we carried on and covered the ground we needed.

By the late afternoon we were belting along through the bottom of North Carolina. Excited by the concept we were nearly there the drive didn’t seem too bad. At one point when there were some genuine twists and turns that would remind me of the old days of going up through devil’s elbow to the hills. While it was raining and very narrow, the only thing that bothered me was when passing a truck on the inside of a bend in the rain and looking out my window. The only thing I could see was the bolts on the hub of the wheel spinning in a sinister way. About that time I started freaking out because he might not realize the world’s smallest transformer was indeed next to him and if he changed lanes that single wheel (which was bigger than the car) would carve through us like a knife through butter. I spurred the beast and raised our speed to be free of the impending doom. Once we climbed the mountain and were back on straight roads my companion awoke from his slumber apparently blissfully unaware that we had nearly died, it had rained, that we had just climbed a mountain or that the road did actually bend and twist like it had. Must have been a good sleep….lol

Around 6 that night we pulled into our home for the night. A little best western joint we had booked a day or two earlier. It  apparently shared a car park with a waffle house so I was pretty intent on seeing if I could keep my waffle n wife strike ratio up. The whole reason for visit to Spartanburg was to keep a promise to one of my oldest and dearest friends and it wasn’t long before she arrived.

With introductions aside we set about catching up on the last nearly 12 years and I got see baby “Nubsy” for the first time. It was during this encounter that D taught us stupid skippies about a treat that we were initially horrified by the sound of. The idea was to pour maple syrup over our bacon next time we had it. Sounded gross to me but we were pretty keen to at least have a crack at it sometime soon.

Baby Nubsy

As it was getting late, D packed up and headed for home after we arranged to get together the next day and see some sites. I don’t think she was even out the car park before we had decided it was time to hit the waffle house. Luckily the people working here this time were not only less scary but they had 3 strips of bacon for only 1 buck!

You know in movies where people suddenly have that moment of realisation, or for those familiar with my other work “an epiphany shit”…this was one of those occasions. When I took that first bite of maple drowned bacon it was as if the heavens opened up and pure golden sunshine came pouring through. This was the beginning of a trend I still continue to this day. Bacon in our house is now accompanied by maple, if you don’t like maple then get the fuck out of my house and stop eating my bacon!

The day had taken its toll and it was clearly time to pass out. It wasn’t possible after being all goofed up on maple syrup, being in amazement at how I hadn’t realised this awesome combination before and the overwhelming happiness at seeing a long lost friend after so many years. So high class TV time it was. My love of ncis, pawn shop, repo-men and man vs food continues to this day. Bless you late night American TV.

Having got the gang back together early the next morning, we really had nothing on the cards in particular to do or see so we decided to upon doing something that I had wanted to for years.

That’s right folks, I travelled all that way to go and shop at Walmart.
I did actually want to get some supplies so it kind of worked out kind of coincidentally. Before long we were walking through the doors of what I can only dub a small citadel. I mean I could literally get lost in this joint. The fact that we had to walk past the McDonalds, bank and hair dressers which weren’t part of the foyer-they were part of the store, I couldn’t see the back wall of the store when we were standing at the front. I had always heard that these joints were big but this was insane.
Think the similar look and feel as big w/target/Kmart or any of those stores but like infinity twelve of them put together under one roof.
I could have bought just about everything in the damn store, so before I bought a canoe because it was only 100 bucks the minders dragged me out of their with my needed supplies.
The adventure was set to continue though and we continued on little side trips to malls, lunch stops and of course the shock that was best buys.
 Being a gamer I had always heard about this joint so it was cool to visit one in the…um….flesh?
I got the shock of my life when we while wondering around the store and with a quick google check we worked out that if I was to buy a 60inch led from there, pack it, insure it, ship it home and convert it, it would still come out about $1100 cheaper than going to the stores at home and buying direct! This place was ridiculously cheap…I was learning to like shopping in America, something I couldn’t care less about at home.


Having eaten pretty much nothing but deep fried everything and icing sugared everything else for a few weeks now we were guided to a delightful little place called Golden Coral for dinner.
Imagine all the things you wanted to eat side by side along a nice long counter randomly splattered with bowls of different types of salad-ey type things. For two fifths of bugger all we got entry to all you can eat and bottomless drinks. What could possibly go wrong??
Don’t you worry, it’s me you’re talking about. There is always some kind of stupid thing involved.

My sidekick, our hosts and I were enjoying a nice bit of fresh tucker in a corner booth. Happily knocking off plate after plate and making a good name for the Aussie appetite.
About half way through the 6th or 7th plate is when it happened. The table across from us was vacant and it wasn’t long before a rather girthely gifted lass was seated there. She didn’t need a menu as she pronounced quite loudly that she knew already she was here for the buffet. I honestly though she was going to give me a run for my money in the packing it away race.
Un-known to this lady I secretly took it upon myself to have an eating competition and see who indeed had the stomach.
I had just returned to my table with plate number 7 or 8 and was busying hoeing into (I needed to keep the pace so she wouldn’t win the secret one sided competition) when she also returned.
Now keep in mind like I said she was a bit of a large lass. I mean, she could go a few winters and not be in trouble if you know what I’m saying. (Not nice I know but it was the obvious observation). Anyways, she came back to the table and plonked plate number 1 (8-1…take that random stranger!)Down. Because the seats didn’t move she had to somewhat suck in her stomach a bit to fit in between the bench and the table, which she somehow managed to do with a style and grace I wouldn’t have thought possible. Once seated comfortably, she let her stomach back out with a deep sigh. Only problem was, that her stomach spilled out onto the table in such a fashion that it sent her plate flying across the table and off the other side.
I’m not saying it was the cause, but I’m not saying it was not not the cause either, merely a coincidence that at the same moment her plate hit the ground I had a little bit of vom in my mouth.
With what I consider to be dirty tactics, she in a single moment wiped me out of the secret consumption race she never knew she was a part off.
I had plenty of time to bask in my disappointment as I left donations of recycled dinner in the garden bed outside while listening to my counterparts mock me for disappointing from.

 After letting the remaining food settle we spent the night and following morning catching up with  D and baby Nubsy. Meeting family and just enjoying not really having to be anywhere or do anything in particular for a bit. Its where i learnt to like the term “yall” and also learnt and understood the term “yallses” for the first time. I miss South Carolina for the little things.
Id really like to see this sign again soon!

Before I knew it our time had passed and snapped back into the swing of things when I found ourselves returning the rent a death box keys, grabbing a bite to eat and checking in for our flight to Miami-Florida.

Stay tuned for what shall be Chapter 9 – Flash floods, Vodka and V.I.P’s

Chapter 7: Shepardsville, General Patton’s tanks and my embassy…..Makers Mark.

Just so everyone is clear from the get go, I did not forget about this blog. Life has been exceedingly busy of late. But we are not here for excuses……were here for a story.

The NO counter will make sense by the end I swear.

The NO Counter: 0

So we pick up where we left off, with our two weary adventurers driving down yet another highway in their little death mobile. (For those of you late to the piece, the Chevy Avio)

We were destined for Shepardsville, a small town in the heart of bourbon country that would be our home for essentially 48 hours. We originally tried to find a place to stay in Bardstown. An even smaller town that was home to about 8 different distilleries, the bourbon museum and all kinds of fancy bourbon related affair.

To get to our destination our journey required us to visit past Fort Knox. Nothing overly exciting except as we drew closer to The fort we realised that not only was this place slightly bigger than the Fort Knox you always see criminals trying to break into in 80’s warner brother cartoons, It was home to (at time of visiting) the Army school of mobile armour and last but not least the home of General Patton’s Museum.

It took all of about 3 seconds for both of us to agree that if we were driving past it, we may as well stop in and see what old general Patton had to offer.   As we pulled into the car park not only were we greeted with the first Pontiac G8 I has seen in my journeys but also an array of out of commission tanks and artillery which included a trusty old Sherman tank.

As I started babbling with excitement about seeing a Sherman AND a VE commodore a loud thudding began. Neither of us could figure out where it was coming from until out of no were, from the far side of the base came a pair of Apache Longbow Helicopters. If I was wearing jocks I probably would have wet them as the trifecta was complete. Now in the space of 2 mins I had seen a commodore, a Sherman tanks and an apache longbow. Not a big deal to most but being that they are my favourite car, tank and helicopter in that order I was quite delighted. For a brief moment I stop and pondered if Nicolas cage was flying one and that they were making firebirds 2 but we had to move on into the museum. *For those who haven’t seen Firebirds…do so and prepare for awesome!

We made it inside and into Patton’s were we were greeted with basically everything America has either shot or shot at, been shot at or the likes. It was literally a museum of everything war related. Bravo Mr Patton, quite a nice collection you have their sir.

We had barely made it into a hall depicting a battlefield scene with some highly uneducated Germans and a tank in it, when a large buzzer sounded as we were told the place was closing. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO you Bastards (The NO counter: 1).

We had just enough of a taste to want to see the rest, so we would have to amend our plans and come back tomorrow to see the rest. Before long we were back in the car park laughing at caravans for midgets. We all know how I feel about them, so we jumped in the death mobile n burned off.

Shepardsville was only about 20km or so from where we were and we seemed to have a new burst of energy. We were still chuckling about those crazy Germans and the midget caravan when we passed a sign saying Knobb creek gun range, Hope of the nation’s largest machine gun shoot and military gun show. Instantly I was depressed. Not only did the sign make me realise we were not in time for Americas biggest gun show, but I it also made me realise I had not planned enough time to go to Knobb Creek distillery. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (The NO counter : 2)

Those crazy Germans.....

With me sitting shotgun, still cussing about missing out on stuff we pulled into Shepardsville. This place had that feel like Lynchburg that not only was everyone related but we could throw a rock clean over the town. And then we found our Days inn……. wtf? We pulled up to this place so slow if you were walking down the street you would have thought we were either trying to pimp Juzzy our or I was about to do a drive by. This place was a crack den. Literally. There were electrical wires hanging all over the place flapping in the breeze, the pool had no water in it, the Days inn sign was ¾ missing, the balcony has a dirty great big bow in the middle of it suggesting that if you dared lean on it, it would all collapse pulling half the second story with it.

With a look of panic hitting both our faces, I couldn’t help it.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO………. This can’t be the place that the travel agent booked us. (The NO counter : 3). Before any of the local KKK staff members or whatever other incarnate of evil ran this shit hole could come out to greet us we got out of there.

We checked the address on the booking slip again and then ran it through Juzzy’s phone. We spied across the car park that there was another hotel and figured we would give it a shot. Turns out that was the place we had booked instead. The hotel was had booked had moved across the road and the demolition work on the original building hadn’t begun since it was vacated 3 years ago. As I wiped my brow in relief I realised that while we might have a nice shiny new hotel to stay in, due to some unforseen circumstance, there was now a building perfect for homeless crack head and the local triads to hold their finger chopping meetings literally across the road from us. Sadly we were too tired to care and went with our new mantra….could be worse.

We made our way to our room on the ground floor and proceeded to get comfy. I ventured off to spy my new surroundings and not only found that this place had a proper bar at the front of it, but the bar was chock full of all the people mentioned in the previous paragraphs. Oh well, between them and the abundance of somewhat redneck looking construction workers that were sharing our neighbouring rooms, life couldn’t really get much weirder. They had that look of evil to them and I started to panic that one of this mixed bunch would come barrelling into the wrong room and accuse us of sleeping with his one toothed girlfriend Darla and proceed to ass fuck us as punishment.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO the locals were freaky enough to even freak me out (The NO counter : 4)

The death box, Redneck wagons and Crack hotel in the background.

Retreating into the safety of the room, it become the hour of the feeding. Without further delay we set off to sample the local cuisine. Being in Kentucky and all we nominated KFC and from our best guesses it was a short squirt down the road. Upon taking a wrong turn for about the 90 millionth time during this trip, we stumbled across a well know local institution. It was something that I had always wanted to try and would certainly be the envy of many for actually doing so.


As usual I started with a sample, just to get the hang of the menu. I messed up the drink again and got the large. Stupid me…..the cup was so big it was actually fit a souvenir t-shirt in it (as I found out later, hope you enjoyed your t-shirt kenwizzlington!). The sample turned into a second round, and the second round turned into a few more…….. I’ll let the photos tell the final count; all I can say in the meantime is that it was everything I thought it could be and more. I might have been a little over indulgent and felt a wee little bit crook, but hey, it’s not like I was going to be back any time soon so yeah I made a big  fat pig of myself.

We learnt pretty quickly why those greasy little morsels of flavour bombs were called sliders. Because they slide down so easily. Problem was they slide out so damn easily. I swear it only took 5 minutes and those little bastards were stinking up the car like you wouldn’t believe.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I wanted more sliders but didn’t want my car to smell anymore like burger farts (The NO counter: 5)

The "snack"

The result


So anyways……

We got up the next morning and made a bee line straight for Patton’s museum. We got to marvel in the sheer size of some of the most iconic machines of war from all conflicts of history. Sherman’s, Abrahams and even a T-72. We even got to laugh at those crazy Germans again. I learnt many things in my time wandering around the hallowed halls. 1) I would never be a tank driver cause I don’t fit in the damn things 2) Tanks are a hell of a lot bigger than most people would think and 3)If your close enough to read it, it must be a dud.

Before buying the obligatory hat, cap and shot glasses we bailed and made our way over to Makers Mark.

One big ass tank

Much like the Jack Daniels joint, Makers Mark was set upon green hilly pastures and quite little rivers running all over the place, the meeting point for the tour was the original homestead of Bill Samuels Snr. Modern, yet still well in touch with its beginnings. The one thing that stood out the most was the signs everywhere that basically encouraged you to take photos, touch things, pick things up, taste things and smell all the different aromas. The only thing I could smell was pee, because I dribbled a bit in sheer excitement.

From tasting the raw brewers stew in the vat rooms to nearly melting as we walked through the actual distilling room I was just in amazement. Were as the JD’s factory was dark and black timber and stooped in history and loyalty to it, The more time we spent at the Makers distillery you couldn’t help but notice how they had tried to stay true to their beginnings yet adjust to more modern times. Although there was a lot of timber around the place, it was all coloured in deep reds and black writing to fall in line with the Makers labelling schemes. The place felt truly alive with energy and everything in the place screamed out for you to touch it or taste it. It was a shame that the only thing we weren’t all9wed to taste was the new blend of bourbon that they were bottling. Makers’ 46 are still yet to be released here in Australia and I await its arrival eagerly. Makers have decided to put their second product on the market, and the 46 signifies the number of recipes they had to go through to find one that they thought would live up to their standards of perfection enough to share.

Black, Red and Wood...the Makers way.

We were taken to the barrel house were a fellow Ambassador not only got to see his barrel, but got to tap it and bottle it.  As their way of saying thanks for being and Ambassador for them, Makers have given me and four others a 250 litre Barrel with our name plaques on it. When it comes of age we will be invited back to tap the barrel, bottle it and hand label our own 50 litres to take home. That’s going to be an expensive exercise for me, but I have another 5 years to save for it so no biggie.

Sadly before too long, we walked through a tiny little door in the barrel house wall and emerged in the most awesome tasting and merchandise room I have ever seen. Before the tour ended completely the staff had one last little treat for us. We were all given 2 shot glasses and as the staff said their farewells and thanks for joining them we were asked to down them. One shot glass was fresh out the barrel Makers standard. The other shot glass contained Makers Julep. A mint flavoured bourbon, that although sounds totally gross, for those of us that lover bourbon, it was the best thing ever. They had chilled it down to the perfect temp and it went down so well that I went back and stole another 2 shots of it.

I went straight to the counter and asked the staff where I could get the julep. Apparently it’s made once a year for the Kentucky derby and is not sold anywhere outside the county so because of that they couldn’t sell me a bottle. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I want minty bourbon goodness! (The NO counter: 6)

I agreed that I would let them think about it while I went and dipped bottle of Makers in the wax solution to seal it. Even though I looked like a complete mental it was a well rad experience. Apparently they must have thought I was awesome at it or some shit as when I went to pay for it they sold me a bottle of the Julep with it. VICTORY IS MINE!

What happened in my pants when i bought the Julep

Being that I could have spent the equivalent to the national income of a small country in that shop, we made a pretty hasty exit. We hadn’t even made it across the car park and had seen a sign for the Makers Mark traditional diner. Sold!

We got stuck in for some po-boys and frosty soft drinks before making our way back down the winding roads to Shepardsville, I can’t help but still to this day feel enlightened by visiting the Makers factory. I have such a better understanding of one of my favourites and too much higher level of appreciation for it. I now understand how footy fans feel visiting the MCG or religious zealots going to that cave thing that jeebus got stuck in.

We got back to the hotel and that now somewhat familiar feeling I had back in Canada returned. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I was actually going to miss this strange yet mystical place (The NO counter: 7)

As our time was over It didn’t take much to distract me. Both myself and Juzzlington were overcome with excitement at the concept of our toughest feat yet. For tomorrow we faced a NINE hours stint taking the death wagon to South Carolina via North Carolina and god knows were else.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 9 hours in that stupid little red piece of shit car!(The NO counter : 8)

For Tomorrow would be a day of Winding straight roads, Walmarts and dearest friends from times gone by.

Chapter 6: Nashville, Willy Nelson and the holy land…..Jack Daniels

Chapter 6:  Nashville, Willy Nelson and the holy land…..Jack Daniels

I was enjoying my sleep in my double queen bed. The alarm went off and before you know it I was up, showered, dressed and in the death mobile before the sun had properly risen.

That’s right folks, we were off again. This time, heading for Nashville. We really had no idea what we were going to do there other than use the city as a base point to get to the Promised Land.

So off we went, cruising the highways and marvelling at such wonders as the sheer volume of heavy hauling trucks, discount firework tents on the side of the road and the disturbingly high amount of massive churches along the road.

It wasn’t the longest drive we were going to have but it still sucked. The highways there are all just bleak multi-laned stretches where the country side doesn’t change a hell of a lot and every now and then a small supply stop appears. We took turns driving and whoever wasn’t was either playing with the camera or sleeping. That’s right fuckers, I slept in that car!


Gradually we started seeing more and more signs for Nashville and it was a much welcome sight to pull into the Maxwell house hotel. About that point I realised that we were staying at a hotel sponsored by a damn coffee company. At least it had that going for it.

The place was a lot more fancy than I had expected and we kind of felt out of place driving our little red Avio into the car park amongst 300c’s, F-trucks and a myriad of other expensive large cars.

It wasn’t until we walked inside that our fears were elevated as the place looked like a bombsite. They were in the process of replacing the carpet throughout so the ground floor was littered with furniture piled up and squashed together in clumps.

We checked in and made our way up to our room on the 7th floor, not too far from the top. Being the 9th floor. Oooooooh such luxury was unbefitting of us two Aussie yokels on a road trip. A nice room with a nice view allowed us to relax a bit after the long and somewhat boring drive.

our 7th floor in Nashville.......pimping it

We jumped on the laptop and spent a bit of time skyping people back home and sussing out what local attractions there were for us. It was about this time our plan of getting to a city and then finding 2135235235 things to do and widdling it down to the things we had time for was getting well-rehearsed. This afternoon’s treat would involve catching the hotel taxi to the centre of town to have a wander around and find what mischief we could.

We got dumped pretty much in the guts of Nashville on the main street. Another hot day and no idea where to go lead us to wander the streets up and down just being tourists. A fair way to spend the day. It was an interesting place to suss out, as every second building we passed was a pub. They looked hideous from the outside, dilapidated shitholes to be polite, but as we looked through the windows in side they were lavish and lush oasis’s of beer food and the all-important music. Literally every pub we walked past had a singer or whole band playing all kinds of different music. But none of them appealed to us enough to wander in. I think I heard everything from solid moshing speed metal to true home-grown hick bands with a wash board and banjo in our walks…..an amazing experience.

We eventually decided it was time for some din dins, and ended up heading to a larger more swish looking pub down the river end of the street called Big River Grille and Brewing works. I figured what the hell; they make beer and have food. Can’t be too bad.

I noticed as we walked in, they had a big sign on the door saying “no concealed firearms on premises”. Ok, so I’m allowed to have a firearm as long as everyone can see it? Wow, they really do things differently here.

Anyways, after trying some of the in house brews and having an epic feast we decided to call it as it was getting late and we had an early start the next day. So we called the hotel and ordered our pick up. Two smokes and a bit of a perve later, George was back in the hotel cab to pick us up.

The reason I remember his name was because he was a very memorable bloke. While driving us back to Maxwell house he was giving us a commentary about everything from the local women, the local Friday night cookouts at the church through to the flooding of recent times. We drove past a KFC and we were told about George loving the KFC seasoning. He began talking about when the flood had hit Nashville how the water was pretty high and nearly flooded out the KFC. He was telling us that when the flood hit, he was down at the KFC sandbagging the doors instead of being at home trying to protect that. I chuckled at the thought, this guy loves the colonel as much as I do…..to which he asked, what I found so funny about that?  He said to us, something along the lines of “Yall think that’s funny that the black man loves chicken that much don’t ya? Yall think cause I’m black I eat nothing but chicken? Mother fuckers, I like cat fish too” by this point myself and Juzzy were pissing ourselves laughing as he was clearly messing around with us and about a topic in a style I could muchly appreciate.

We retreated back to our room and cooled down as bit. That’s right, it still wasn’t much cooler.

After having a few night caps in the bar down stairs we called it a night so we could get up early.

The day had finally come. 1 of 3 reasons we had ventured through this part of the country was upon us. It seemed like an eternity travelling the winding back roads through the countryside to Lynchburg. The fact that we had to drive through places like “Columbia” and “Shelbyville” only made it more interesting.

So the moment had arrived, we pulled into the car park of the Jack Daniels Distillery. I had been a long time coming for Juzzy and rightly so it was like all his Christmases had come at once. We made short work of the car park and got inside to book our tour as quick as we could. With a bit of time to spare we had a chance to wander around the entry hall and take a bunch of photos. The tour began and after a short intro video with the rules etc., we were on our way around the distillery. Our tour guide was what one might deem “a bit of a redneck” with the trucker cap, the overalls and the oily rag hanging out the back pocket we made our way around the distillery. The thing I loved about the inner states and town, this guy represented. He was so down to earth and honest and although hard to understand at times just an all-round amusingly friendly bloke. If he wasn’t paying the piss out of himself he was filling our heads with knowledge he had gained from generations handing it down.

Chilling With Jack

Things like, it’s actually illegal in Lynchburg County to drink. Even at the Distillery. You can buy it but can’t drink it. The irony was amazing……

From the smoke yards to the barrel house and even in to the cave were Jack Daniels get their spring water we toured the whole place. I was truly a sense of achievement to come to the home of something that we had both enjoyed so much over the years. This was Juzzy’s Graceland. He knew all about the place and wouldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear as we wandered the grounds wishing that we were allowed to touch everything and sample all the brews. Just the design of the place was a marvel in itself. From the lush green surrounds with creeks running through out to the buildings that were not only rustic timber but decorated with the same stuff, it indeed gave the feeling that everything in that place had been formed out of a used Jack Daniels barrel at some stage.

All too soon the tour ended, and we made our way back to the staging area to sample some homemade ice lemonade (which was a blessing cause it was hot as all hell that day) and purchase some bottles. We stocked up, took our final salute to this marvellous establishment and headed into Lynchburg itself.

Only five hundred meters up the road we came to the town centre of Lynchburg. It was one of those places that had only about 400 people that lived in the town itself and as we soon discovered every one of those 400 people were on the oval setting up for foundation day. (I later found out it was the annual celebration of the founding of Lynchburg). We parked the death mobile and went to wander around and have a look. The centre of town sported a couple of banks, a couple of foodatoriums and the general population milling around doing their usual thing. It became apparent all too quick that the majority of the 400 people that lived there were related, as we noticed a fair few people did look like each other.

After stopping off to pick up a dated JD’s shot glass to commemorate our visit to the distillery (which Lia later shattered to my great unhappiness :P) we discovered the holy land. A building that was literally 3 stories high and just as long and dwarfed anything else in that town. It was the Jack Daniels merchandise store. Before Juzzy could spooge in jocks too much we made a bee line for it and began what ended up being a pretty well behaved spend up. Considering you could buy everything from Harleys and pool tables to the barrels themselves I think we did pretty good to leave with only a few small bits and pieces each.

With another quick lap of the square to again marvel at the inbred ways around those parts (but more so to get another soda) we packed our new found wares back into the death mobile and made our way back to Nashville. Now I can’t recall if we missed our turnoffs or what the fuck happened, but we somehow ended up in a different part of Nashville that we clearly hadn’t been in before.

With a quick gander at Google maps and our list of shit we wanted to do, it became all too clear of our next destination.

That’s right folks; we were bound for Willy Nelsons Museum. Everything awesome over the years has somehow involved Willy nelson and for me growing up in a household that regularly listened to his tunes, it seemed only right. Upon arriving there tho we realised, SCORE! The Willy Nelson museum was actually right next door to the Dukes of Hazard museum. I know right, almost too much awesome for one day. Turns out that the Willy Nelson museum actually sucked. It was basically one giant fricking souvenir shop and the highlight was me getting a chance to grab the boobs of a Dolly Parton cardboard cut-out for a photo and then leaving.

We quickly made our way next door and took a self-guided tour of everything the Dukes had to offer. Amongst all the memorabilia and scale electric sets they actually had the original cars featured in the series. A small flashback to another of my childhood shows. Alright you got me, it kind of sucked too. The main highlight of that place was getting a photo with a restored General Lee, and then going in the Pub next door for a beer.

Now this place was cool. Not only was the bar chick real friendly, but the place was made out of timber cladding from top to bottom. The catch being, there was not a blank bit of timber in the joint. Apparently we had stumbled into the busiest musical pub in town. Every pillar, every slat, every toothpick in the place had been autographed by the musicians that had played in the place. Some had gone on to become megastars; some had failed and returned to being a janitor or whatever. But it was definitely cool to sit, drink a beer, eat the greasiest potato skins on record and read some of the messages left for people like me.

The writing is on the wall....literally.

A few beers later and the heat were beginning to take its toll. Before I knew it we were back in the hotel sending emails and dozing off between random episodes of man vs food and CSI.

I awoke some time before midnight with one of those appetites that would suit me well at the watermark in my stretchy pants. Juzzy was content to chill in the room, so I ventured down stairs to find some foods. I found the hotel bar that was all but deserted except for the lonely looking singer with her guitar and the chick behind the bar. I put away a burger in a tidy time and proceeded to watch the NBA highlights while talking with both the bar chick and the singer. Apparently open mic night wasn’t going to be too busy tonight. After getting in an argument with the bar chick that I could mix drinks by colour not ingredient something very strange happened. I got complete and utterly shit faced off something other than bourbon. I mean, I was messed up Vegas styles of everything from fruity coladas to triple doubles of 3 different whiskeys. Now in my usual drunken state as anyone knows I’ll talk to a brick wall if it looks like it can hold up its end of the conversation. And somewhere in the piece we had been joined by some business looking dude in a suit who was quick to join in the mix and match game of who could get the most fucked up the quickest that me and the singer chick were playing. Before you know it, she was singing, he was playing her guitar, the bar chick was deciding what song to play and I was trying my best to keep up on the piano. That’s right! ME! Playing the piano in public!!!!! That right there is your indication of how messed up I was. The only thing I remember was playing some Greenday song, belting out my own drunken rendition of on the road again (GO WILLY NELSON!) and trying to teach these musically gifted strangers how to play classic Australian tunes such as INXS, chisel and of course the obligatory farnzy songs. I do recall abusing them because they didn’t know the words to you’re the voice too…

At around 4am much to our dismay, the bar had to close up. Sadly I bid my new spastically drunk musical mates of the last 5 hours a farewell and made my way back to the room were I woke Juzzy with my drunken stumbling antics of tripping over everything in the room before going ass up and passing out.

Sadly I don’t have any photos of the people that I spent such an amusing time with, and I don’t even remember their names. But to me, that night was a true testament to just how musical Nashville was. It showed me just how much everyone in that city is affected by music, how everyone deep down is a fan of Willy nelson and how you can mix by colour and get some awesome tasting drinks.

General Lee instead of the Avio????

I didn’t really plan it too well as after breakfast at 8am we were due to be on the road again. We were due to head for another critical part of our journey. Being I am an ambassador for Makers Mark bourbon it wouldn’t be right to not visit my embassy. It was after breakfast at 8am that we were back in the death mobile and heading for Shepardsville, General Patton’s Tanks and My embassy….Makers Mark.