I Am Nothing But A Filthy Liar..

Because -

A) I have not taken down past posts.
because I don't really know how to save them forever if I do...

B) I have not posted on ELV.
because I am not comfortable there... it feels like a hotel room while this site feels like home.

C) I have no new title and no new "look".
because I haven't thought about it...

So, there you have it. I lie, people. Like a rug, like my pants are on fire, like my plants are for hire.

But, enough about me. How are you? Everything going well?

Ok, not enough about me.

We (and by "we" I mean, Hugh and myself and our good friends, Dan and Christy... children stayed with grandparents and stayed up late, ran with scissors and ate donuts for breakfast) just got back from Memphis and hello! What a fucking great city! All you Memphis people should knock off any sort of tourism pitch because many people will come to your city on the bluffs and not want to leave and, like poor Seattle, you will find yourself stuck with many horrible Californians who cannot believe the (ridiculously) low real estate prices and who appreciate your rather fast and loose smoking regulations.

Also, Beale Street does not smell like pee or vomit and that in itself makes you fabulous.

And you have Graceland! Graceland where, as I was being appropriately somber and reflective in the meditation garden, reading all the graves in the little backyard cemetery, my phone rang and currently it is set to Amy Winehouse singing, "You Know I'm No Good" which earned me many "hard" looks.

And the Civil Rights Museum, creepily located at the Lorraine Motel (or, as many call it, the place where MLK Jr. got shot) sort of made me feel bad and I wanted to go around to people with the disclaimer, "My parents fought for civil rights... they rocked the vote." but that seemed like it would be not only foolish but perhaps racist as well so I kept my mouth shut and tried to look suitable.

We stayed at the Peabody... where ducks rule... and really Memphis, here is where I am forced to tell you that the ducks are not so great... in fact, unless you are under the age of 4 or over the age of 80, you will probably agree with me. The only thing the ducks really have going for them is the fact that their presence is due to a drunken afternoon and a reprieve for some live decoys and that they live in a mini plantation on the 10th floor.

On the plus side, the Peabody has a bartender who makes a sort of mojito inspired martini and you can drink 5 (5!) of them before you remember that you are slugging down an awful fucking lot of liquor and maybe it's time for a glass of water.

You also have Elvis' tailor.

But as for the blog - who knows?

But right now, I am posting this.

It's all good.

*BTW - if you have been receiving multiple "invites" for ELV, I apologize... I was just tipped off to this rather annoying state of repetition. Also, I think I have gotten to everyone who has requested to be added to the site, if I missed you, please email me... I may have entered your address incorrectly, or simply missed the message. Thanks!