Piss foam parties

I literally lived the dream this weekend.

I snowboarded at Big Sky with a bunch of loons I haven't seen since Vegas.

The tubes in the Boogie Station got warmed up.

I railed my snowboard through the trees. Snow flew.

A friend invited me over today. He has a monster guitar collection and several amps. I brought my guitars and my amp over.

He had a gonad-rattling P.A. system.



He had Paul Reed Smiths, custom shop Gibsons, Fenders, Don Grosh custom guitars with hand-wound pickups, two huge 4x12 cabinets, and a pedal board with fifteent pedals, custom-made by some guy in Australia.

I have never, never, played through something like that. It is akin, I imagine, to driving a Ferarri, or flipping a series of switches, grabbing the joystick and launching the space shuttle.

Or BASE-jumping with an integrated iPod batsuit.

Just flicking out your wings and taking a '59 goldtop les paul through some hummmmmmmming tubes and letting the gain soar.

That was my weekend, anyway. The snowboarding was good, too.