{below is ficticious}


So, me and my pool buddies - you know 'em, right? Mack, Moe, and Big Paul. I think we actually got something goin' for the band. I mean, we've been recordin' now off 'n on fer like a decent half year now. Friday nights we'd go down to Greasy's Pub, grab some drinks, shoot some pool, head back to Mack's basement, jam, then crash on his couch. But you know, some uh the songs were half decent, so we recordeded them on some old peece-a shitzafritz cassette deck we got at Gerry's garage sale. We put 'em on the tape. We even got a show lined up at Greasy's. I mean, I don't know. You know what I mean?
But we just ain't yet have a name. We don't wanna call ourselfes Rick, Mack, Moe, and Big Paul. I mean, it's half decent, but not what'll reel in them buckers, you know? So, anyway I bin thinkin' about some names. I got it narrowed...
*The Wrench Guys
*Shitzafritz
*Lots of Big Time Money
*The Pick-Ups


I mean, what do ya think now? I mean, Moe wants us to be The Central County Iron Union Buddies, but that ain't just not it...

Today? Well, hmm...probably halestorms. Actually. No. Definitely halestorms...

Forecasting weather cannot be easy. How do the weather forecasters do it, day in and day out. Do they have high intelligent quotients?? Granted, they are not always right, but when they are!! Nostradomus eat your shorts!! In my book they’ve never been and never will be forecasters - sevencasters at least….

Today is, above all, here...