An ode to Mr. Mann

I spoke with my good friend Mr. Mann from Tennessee the other day. We had dropped off each other's radar for a while, but are starting to get back on track. I was telling him about my blog and he asked if he had an alias too. I realized then that I hadn't mentioned him yet.

So Mr. Mann, here's an entire entry devoted just to you. Together we learned that if you drink enough vodka and Red Bull, your friends will think you're on drugs and you might as well be. I think that with enough of it in your system and loud enough electroclash screaming from your stereo, you can actually step out of the space/time continueum.

I want to go come down to Memphis again. I'll be waiting for my ticket in the mail.