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from: Try the Margaritas
c-24-22-34-71.hsd1.or.comcast.net
05-04-05
07:59:01
Sorry, but to those outside the sphere of Popeye-X's broadcast area, "San Antonio Music Scene" conjures up fat guys in skintight Mariachi regalia with huge hats, thrumming on little guitars made out of armadillos and howling Mexican "singing-duel" songs at Alamo tourists in a local overly-tiled bean-slinger restaurant. You'll have to be more vague. If the bottom of the "San Antonio Music Scene" is personified by this unknown-to-me person (to which you can also add "could-be-cared-less-about-by-me") then what personifies the top? Some washed-up Freddy Fender wannabe? At what point did the music industry prick up their ears (yeah, I know it's a stupid phrase, but I always liked the mental image that goes along with it, and it's so appropriate to the music industry in particular) and say with a collective gasp that rocked the world for a generation; "hey! What's this we hear coming out of San Antonio? Goddamn, let's get a couple of teenagers in tight clothes to do that funky San Antonio thing and throw it down America's throat! We'll make a bundle!" See? I think not. Perhaps you should rephrase that particular sentence structure to more clearly invoke the impression of this person you wish for us to accept. You could say, for instance, that he's (or they, I'm not sure what the fuck I'm talking about by now) is truly a bad, bad person and they should eat a bowl of fuck. There, that's probably better, but I don't want to put words in your mouth. Apparently, I just wanted to piss on the Alamo like Ozzy, and see what you Texas fuckheads do about it. Hell, you elected him TWICE.
