Brightest Young Things

If I have to tell you where to find parts 1, II and Three...

Not Country, not even 'merican. Don't care. I less than symbol number three this song:

Not really country, is 'merican (what's more American than a rock/country band named after a gun? A: Nothing. Nothing is better than a band named after a gun, other than maybe a band named after a nuclear missile fired from a nuclear submarine and when it asploded it asploded tiny little powerful nuclear weapon guns that went pew pew pew as they consumed everything in fire. And the submarine was piloted by lesbians and I was the chef on the nuclear submarine. A band named after that would be awesome but until then you get .38 Special:

For all the bad people behind bars:

This black guy sings country songs better than you:

(sorry, another stupid static video but BYT doesn't have enough brothers here - white people who like WALE do not count as brothers, sorry, crackers.).

Here are some stupid static pictures: Pictures!

So yeah, I found these pictures last night. That's my first Christmas in the Army when I was almost finished with Basic Training. My dad came and visited and I got a 4 hour pass to go to the mall and he bought me some running shoes and an unabridged copy of Les Miserables to read on the 20 hour flight to Korea, where I was shipping out two days after Christmas.

My Grandpa, my dad, my grandmother and me.  Grandpa Garrett died when I was 5 and who actually did work as an engineer on locomotives and was apparently super amazing and awesome. Even my mother's family, who pretty much hates the Garretts, have always said Grandpa Garrett was the kindest man they've ever met.

Grandpa joined the Navy at 46. Volunteered to go fight Nazis. That's pretty fucking amazing. I couldn't imagine going through Basic Training at forty-six years old.

My Grandmother, brother, and me.

Trucks, books, blue socks. Is there anything better?

I don't know where Santa's hand is, but I'm smiling.

My brother, me, and some perv.

My Dad in his swinger wear putting together my train.

Yeah, I'm cute.

Fuckin' Elvis:

Fuckin' Dolly:

Fuckin' Dolly and Fuckin' Kenny:

And for my Jewish friends:

and

This is what I want for Christmas:

All of it. The car, the countryside, the garage, to be named Caractacus Potts, to randomly burst into song, to have those clothes, to hump Truly Scrumptious...