Practicing.

Just so you know, for the past month or so, nine out of ten nights, this has been the scene in my basement. The upside, for you, lovely reader, is that this is a still picture, with no audio. I can dig the audio these dear boys are producing, it's just that it, like, permeates my entire stinkin' house. It's not very peaceful. You think you wanna be one of those moms (wives?) where all the kids feel welcome at your house, but this whole "Um Shit You Guys We Have A Show In Six Days And We Gotta Learn Twenty New Songs By Friday Night Holy Crap Dude" ordeal has taught me that probably, you don't. At least, not four beer swillin' dudes with amplifiers and drumsticks, anyways. Oy.