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No fucking way was Bad To The Bone a novelty song, Thorogood concluded in a bourbony haze. He finished spreading on the margarine and settled into his green Laz-E-Boy.

Back in the day, he had owned Connecticut radio, up and down the dial, CCC, HCN, PLR, it was Lonesome George and the Delaware fucking Destroyers all the way. Toad's Place in New Haven. The Webster in Hartford. The Sting in New Britain.

Move It On Over. One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer. Who Do You Love. Whom? Which was it? Fuck it, he couldn't remember and no longer cared. The blues were dead in him, drowned in the booze that once had fueled them. Least I still got my teeth, he reasoned.

Thorogood picked up the stereo's remote and pushed play. He grabbed the bottle and cranked back the wooden Laz-E-Boy handle. Blaring forth from the speakers came the raunchy slide riffing of I Drink Alone. And he did.

Date Written: December 18, 2003
Author: qualcomm
Average Vote: 3.8

12/25/2003 anonymous (2):
12/25/2003 Will Disney (4): i liked this one. it didn't make me laugh exactly but it does show some heart, in some sense, which is unusual for a feldspar short.
12/25/2003 Benny Maniacs (4): Commendable literary performance. Feldspar sheds new light on the action behind the scenes during Thoroughgood's meteoric rise ...and fall from grace.
12/25/2003 Texxx (5): just splendid
12/25/2003 Dylan Danko: I don't understand Disney's comment about heart. Not one of Feldspar's best but I had wondered about Thorogood's recent mental health.
12/26/2003 Will Disney: Who or whom indeed. F u danko.
12/29/2003 Dylan Danko: Hey, i was just sayin'.
12/29/2003 scoop (4): George Thorospar plays guitar.