If you have a space to share for a few hours that will let about 40-60 listen to an acoustic show,
then we’d love to hear from you.
A link-click below takes you right to the host submission page and gives you all of details.
All shows are 8PM affairs and ticket sales are handled by Undertow Music Collective, so all you have to do is check a list of pre-paid names and listen to the show with five of your friends who get in for free in appreciation of your time and space. Listeners start shuffling in about 7, show at 8, ends by 9:30 and you have your place back by 10. No one knows your location unless they purchase a ticket.
See you at your place in the Spring!
Well, here we are.
What brings ya?
Bored with the world but too tired to read?
Thought you'd poke around for some stimuli?
This is what the universe calls the HOME page.
I'll be using it to cast bait
There's a CONTACT page, but it's not much fun.
Just places to go if you've got a weird reason;
EVENTS is kind-of-a good time-killer.
When I'm allowed out of the house, I'll be posting my proposed destinations there.
Mostly acoustic Living Room shows for the meantime.
Later in the year, there might be some non-music junkets.
But, also on the EVENTS page are links to a Tumblr. blog, an Instagram gallery and Twitter mumblings.
Tangential options, if you need 'em to pass the useless hours.
Also, there's an ALBUMS page. Most of my attempts are there.
It's best if you go there after you've been drinking.
Blackout buying is nice because you don't remember making the purchase, so when it comes, it seems like I've sent you a surprise gift because I think you're special.
My best relationships are with people I've never met.
On the ABOUT US page, you can meet the crack team I've assembled to keep this barge afloat.
Or dreaming it's a ghost ship.
(…and you're the only ghost-passenger unless you've brought a ghost-friend-guest to go with you to the ghost-cash-free top-deck ghost lounge with an attentive ghost barkeep who tells hilarious but true ghost stories but also leaves you alone long enough to drink a few and reflect like only ghosts can until you start getting emotional and need to sober up and then go to the ghost restaurant (but not the ghost-bistro; fuck bistros) and get a booth near the window because no one else is on board and you and your ghost buddy (or you and your book if you decided last-minute that you'd rather travel alone) can sit and slowly peruse the ghost options from a letterpress (not lacquered) menu that has unfolding pop-up displays of the dishes as you turn the pages instead of just oversold psyche-killing NPR-like descriptive word clouds and you order and it's really fucking ghost-good and food doesn't get lodged between those two molars that give you trouble because you're a ghost and so are the molars and of course, there's a dessert tray you can order from because you're not too full because it's great to be a ghost. "Yeah! It's great to be a ghost!" you say as you walk to the mid-deck ghost disco where, fuck yeah, it's 80's night and you have the whole dance floor to dance like you did in the 80's when you were already a ghost but just didn't know it yet and you go to your cabin which was upgraded to a sweet suite and don't check your cell before you lay down because you threw it overboard as the ghost ship pulled away from Immortal Hell Harbor USA and left without a determined destination which was-and-still-is totally okay because ghosts can do whatever they fucking want to ghost-do after going through the trouble of dying while escaping the minefield of your nation's ghost-canons.)