Bone throw.

Add a little cilantro. Mmmm.... probably not THAT much. Jesus christmas, Mitch - you're kind of extravagant with the spicing, aren't you. Now, don't get offended, I.... uh, Mitch....?

There he goes again. That's the second time he's walked out on me in the course of preparing this meal. Sensitive scientists! Anyway, welcome to the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, where spirits are always elevated, music is ubiquitous, and science is a child's plaything. A lot of experimentation goes on here. We've seen it all, frankly, from selective negation of gravity to new formulae for cornmeal popovers. (Actually, the two things kind of go together.) What does it all have in common? None of the results are published, that's what. What happens at the mill stays at the mill, my friends. Just ask Mitch Macaphee, the mad (and extremely thin-skinned, apparently) scientist who advises us on all matters relating to bubbling beakers of goo, primitive electrodes, and massive pressure gauges. Fortunately he has not invented any new robots - Marvin (my personal robot assistant) is quite sufficient automatronic company for any rock band.

What's happened over the last week or so? Oh, you know... the usual stuff for a virtual rock band. Practice. Recording. Personal appearances. Listening for that fateful knock on the door from the codes department. (Shhhhh.... Don't tell them we're here!) Scraping up loose change wherever we can find it. How is the vacationland scheme going? Ah, we let that one drop. Pretty typical for us, really. Get an idea first, then think about it and realize how stupid it is. (Story of our lives.) The only one of us that was truly into doing it was the man-sized tuber. He had polished up all of his customer service skills and was ready to man that front desk. It took a while to break it to him, frankly. I certainly didn't have the heart for it, and we didn't want to delegate it to someone outside of the band proper (particularly since that might end up being anti-Lincoln, who would take delight in tubey's misery). In the end, it was Matt who handed him the clue. (Scribbled on the back of an empty book of matches, as it happened.)

Putting that unpleasantness aside, we've been toiling away at our next album (or "collection", as Mitch insists on calling it). Breaking new ground here for old Big Green. I, for one, recorded my first banjo part ever. (Luckily, John lent me his banjo... though I had to blacken in a few teeth before hitting the record button.) Matt tried his hand at mandolin and washboard, and we both tracked a jug-band accompaniment. What's the song? Let's just say it's a little number about some friends of ours. No, it won't be stuffed with inside jokes... just a little topical humor (i.e. only to be taken externally). There are a few others in the works, and we're following the usual production schedule, so don't pop the earbuds in just yet (unless you've got other things to listen to). In the meantime, we've been trying our hand at developing recipes for something we plan on calling the "Big Green Cookbook". Hence the extra cilantro. (An atypical ingredient for blueberry muffins, I will admit.) Another little money-making scheme that's sure to....

What's that? Someone has already done a Big Green Cookbook? Who the hell is Jackie Newgent and why haven't I ever seen her at any band meetings? (Perhaps because I don't attend them...?)