ΠΑΝΤΑ Potts

Ridiculous. Used to wake and sprint to 'puter to check out Asian Babes and Grecian Gargoyles ("Just updating on the Economist news flashes, mum; be at breakfast in a trice").

Now it's CorfuBlues, and that's Jimbo onna right there, hate tho' I do to give a fellow fret wrangler a plug.

How have the mighty agèd ... even my personal trainer is cutting me down to three cranks of the tremolo per chanson. 

I tease my buddies, hear their flatbed truck coming up the drive, quick, shove on a Potts special; they walk in on some decent blues. 

Or they walk in on Larry riffing on Layla ~ fuck-a-duck, will you listen to that boy blow. Shot in the neck in a drive-by, came back shredding.

Where was I, cranking out massa Potts: "Man! This is like hot! Where the album case? I got to order me this 'un from Amazon."

I give them my 'look'.

"This ain't no album case, this hot from Jimmy Potts' blog blè, nuthin' posted older than 6 weeks, Lord have mercy."

They get up singing n cryin'. 

Jimmy Potts heard his readers, heard my baby, too. (see left)

Put it by the bread bin.