float

goddam Brickbreaker.

have you played this fucking game? it comes standard on whatever version of the blackberry cellphone that the cingular nazis gave me. it may come on other phones as well, i don't have any clue.

what i do know, is that it is a horrible modern rip-off of the classic arcade game "Arkanoid". basically, you control this little paddle at the bottom of the screen, and you have to bounce this metallic ball around and bust up all these different blocks without letting the ball slip past your stupid little paddle and into digital oblivion.

something else i know is that i don't even enjoy the stupid game. it's boring and repetitive and frustrating, namely because the game exists in a universe that does not follow the same laws of physics that you and i are familiar with. the rules don't follow a set logic, as the ball frequently passes through the corners of bricks, the edge of the paddle, etc. utterly ridiculous.

the ONLY other thing i know regarding Brickbreaker, is that Sweet Tits consistently exerts her dominance over my fat ass at that game and that i will not stop playing until i can beat her. mark it, dude.

lets get to some updates.


Live Music Update:

my friend jesse became my hero for a day when he was able to book a performer that i had intended to go see at the Whitewater Tavern in Little Rock. he goes by the name Reverend Deadeye, but after a thorough investigation, Hot Water Cornbread learned that his given name is Brent. i swear i'm not making that up.

the rev is the son of a couple of missionaries that spent a good portion of their lives in arizona with some of those desert indians that you hear so much about on the discovery channel or whatever. he got his start playing guitar at those old-timey big tent revivals, probably for a bunch of people dancing around with snakes and blabbering like they are speaking spanish pig latin.

apparently all the conservative practice paid off, because the show was really damn good. Reverend Brent played (all at once) an old-school resonator, a kick drum, a wash tub, a couple of cymbals, and (at times) a harmonica. to top it all off, he sang into a handmade microphone built out of an old Falstaff beer can. he played the really old-style gospel blues, like he was a white Blind Willie Johnson or something. tremendous.

he and his dog Hawk (as in the bird, not Hock as in at a pawn shop) stayed at the house after the show. it was very evident that he spends long hours on the road with his dog. i don't know if "socially awkward" is exactly the right phrase or not, but he certainly did not have much to say without being prompted with a direct question. i counted six times where he forgot what he was saying in the middle of a sentence when there was no interruption. i think he was just lost in another thought.

overall, a super nice dude. if you get a chance to see him play somewhere close to wherever the hell you live, you'll be sorry if you pass it up. his band page is myspace.com/reverenddeadeye if you want to check him out. if that seems like too much effort, you could just watch the video below.



currently on the white board behind the bar: I'm gonna period.

um, i guess that's all i have. i've been trying to finish this particular post for like two days. just no time, dudes. no time. emails? hotwatercornbreadblog@gmail.com. mahalo.

i'm on it.

dave