Disclaimer:

The penultimate sentence of the above article lacks both my authorship and approval. While I am guilty of basing the entire piece upon a flimsy bit of unauthorized plagiarism, and my usual lack of regard for deadlines prevented NadaMucho from asking me for a rewrite, three wrongs don't make a left.

The fucking sentence in question is even awkwardly constructed, with a glaring typo in Ms. Henkensiefken's name - which I learned and practiced diligently over the last year.

While I don't feel that I'm anywhere close to the level of proficiency I seek as a writer, having exchanged a formal education for a handful of magic beans and a hot girlfriend back in 1990, and although I certainly welcome any and all editorial efforts to fit my crappy scribblings into the confines of "journalism", two facts remain...

1. Jamie wouldn't stop talking to me over a booking failure.

2. I never failed to book a show. Hellgate was offered another opportunity while I waited to hear back from someone, and they took it.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to point out that David and Ben are often sternly rocking out when they're onstage, while I've noticed Marie making an occasional goofy face. I purposely used the word "endearingly" to jab at David's machismo, and I need to apologize publicly for that. Ben remains utterly adorable in any context.

Thank you for allowing me these ego-driven words on my own behalf. Come to the High Dive tonight and rock the hell out.

All my love and half my whiskey,
Matt