Somehow I am going to try to tie-in Sister Hazel, the World Cup, and a story about a neighbor’s late night leak (and the maintenance man that came to fix it).
Let me begin with a band named Sister Hazel.
Every time a new Hazel album comes out, I honestly feel like a little kid at Christmas.
Seriously—just ask my wife.
They recently released a trio of songs on an EP entitled “Threeve” to tide over Hazelnuts until the band’s October 2010 new full length album.
Great freaking EP, by the way.
Go pick up their last few albums if you haven’t heard them in a while.
Hazel is like Pink Floyd, Grateful Dead, the Beatles, and masterful music all mixed up in a giant bowl.
And if their new album is anything like their prior CDs, I have absolutely no doubt it will be another gold medal winner.
However, I digress.
I was watching World Cup action yesterday morning and afternoon (Central Time), while taking care of my eight-month-old son, and I can’t help but admit that I am falling in love with this every-four-years event.
It’s freaking awesome.
I know most people ...
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