...that us Weirdos hain't of a might resilient stock.  A small but depressin' disaster hit last night.  Don't rightly know what got into ol' Bessie, but she done took out two nights' worth of recordin' work in one fell swoop.  Suddenly the sound had the approximate quality of somethin' I done hit with the tourin' truck a few years back.

Anyway, tonight we got done with our show, I dropped my new lady-friend off at her apartment in the city, an' then all us Weirdos had a little talk...given the impendin' deadline inherent in this here challenge, we done decided to all put our heads together an' do some catch-up work.  We went to the studio to re-record everythin' that done been lost last night - everythin' but the fiddle track.  Fencepost is feelin' a might glum after some dagblasted varmint kid done made fun of him - he's a sensitive man.  Not as much as Clem, but sensitive n'less, which given his tender years, I reckon, is quite understandable.  He tried a few times but his heart just hain't in it right now, so I done tol' him, "Fencepost, I'll be gullderned if this hain't one o' the longest nights the Weirdos ever worked.  You go home an' have a good night's rest.  Tomorrow's purt near guaranteed to be a better day.  And anyhow, hold yer head high on the way home - you're an authentic Mountain Weirdo, an' we don't admit no slouches to this here band."

-Arnie "Polecat" McJunkman 

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