Girls Love Dudes.

My dear friend Teal, who is quite the afternoon regular at the Hole in the Wall, sent me this:


Yes, it reads, "I Love Asa."

Sidenote: A heart symbol in a sentence means "love," not "heart." Let's not all succumb to total dumbing down. Let's move on.

So guess where Teal found this gem of a Wisdom Bomb. That's riiiight... The bathroom wall at the Hole in the Wall! Now, you might be scratching your head, thinking, "What does 'ASA' stand for? 'Alcoholics Smoochers Anonymous'? 'Anti Smurf Association'? 'American Shoplifters of America'?"

If you know anything about this great city of ours and the killer bands that play in it, you'll know that the above tag means none of those things; rather, it details a lady's love for guitar demon Asa Savage of Scorpion Child fame.

Yeah, you read that right. His name is Asa SAVAGE. He plays in a band called SCORPION CHILD. Do not adjust your screen; this is all reality. What's that you say? You've never seen Scorpion Child play? Wow. Drop whatever you are doing this instant and go see them.


That's Asa on the far right. Like it matters. Look how hot these kids are! Take your friggin' pick!

One of the last times I saw this ridiculously rock-infused head-banging outfit play was at the Hole in the Wall. I'm pretty sure they're still cleaning my brain matter off the walls. 'Cause, you know, Scorpion Child blew my mind. And all. Maybe it was the delicious, frosty beers I had been drinking. Maybe it was the awesome sound system at the bar. Maybe it was the hot chixxx dancing on the pool tables. Oh, and the band rules, too. Maybe it was all these things. At any rate, when was the last time you were out somewhere that had all those things going for it?

Go to the Hole in the Wall, drink some delicious, frosty beers, see a kick-ass band, fall in love with the guitarist (or the singer, or the bassist, or the drummer), write his name on the wall (guys, this applies to you, as well), and come back and do it all over again.

See you at the bar.

Leo Rondeau, or How to Never Be Alone on a Monday Night Again

I moseyed down to the Hole in the Wall on Monday night to catch Leo Rondeau, because that's what you do when someone like Leo is playing—FOR FREE—at your favorite place to drink frosty, delicious beers. Ever seen Leo play? If you have, you know what it means when someone describes a singer with heart, a singer with talent, and a singer with kick-ass songs. Not to mention, Leo's just a super-cool dude.

I got there early and was pleasantly surprised to find these guys playing:




Yep, Darren Hoff and the Hard Times, in all their jean-jacketed glory. Apparently it was the "Bye-Bye Tourists Spectacular." Good times. Darren kept telling the crowd how much he was looking forward to SxSw. Apparently, being a large man with a telecaster and a beard can lead to insanity. Great.

I also ran into this cat:



That's Mike Harmeier of Mike and the Moonpies, one of the hardest-working bands in Austin. Fifteen shows in seven days? Wow. Intense. Keep it up, Mike!

I grabbed Leo and pulled him outside so I could glean some of his higher mind power and use it for my own selfish means. I was, sadly, unable to turn invisible or time travel after our short little interview, but my conviction that a movie about Townes Van Zandt needs to be made simply so Leo can play the man was seriously strengthened.



If you haven't been down to the Hole on a Monday to see this guy, please, please, please put down the remote, the iPod, the collection of magic nose goblins, whatever it is that's holding your attention, and wander on in for some killer tunes, delectable libations, and some BOMB Tacos. No, seriously, they make the tacos out of napalm. Not really. Maybe.

Apparently, my computer, or my blog site, or my guardian angel, doesn't want you to see the video I took of Leo actually performing, as it's taking like 76 hours to upload... So... you'll have to go to the Hole in the Wall yourself this Monday at midnight to see him. In the immortal words of one of my fave Austin bands, the Happen-Ins, DO IT! Hell, show up at 8 and get yo drink on.

When you do see Leo, or Mike and the Moonpies, or Darren Hoff and the Hard Times, you'll see (and hear) that these guys are just keepin' it real. 'Cause they're keepin' it real. Just like Murray in Clueless. You do the same.



See ya at the bar.

Soiled Doves

I dropped by the Hole in the Wall a couple nights ago just to say hi to some people, and like you do when you drop by your favorite watering hole just to say hi to some people, I ended up having a few delicious, frosty beers. And, like you do when you have had a few delicious, frosty beers, I had to hit the bathroom at one point.

Where I saw this:


To which I thought, "Yes. Dirt. I agree. Dirt."

Then I began to really think about the deep message conveyed on the wall of the backporch commode at the Hole in the Wall with this one little word, and the heaviness of it all was almost too much to bear. I mean, what was the tagger trying to tell me? That he felt like dirt at the time? That the wall needed cleaning? That God made dirt, so dirt don't hurt? My mind was awash in possible meanings, and I needed a minute to process it all. I made a pit stop at the front bar (did you know there are THREE bars at the Hole in the Wall?) and got another delicious, frosty beer from Dominic (yes, THE Dominic), and sat down to ponder the implications of the word "dirt."

I came to three possible conclusions regarding this:

1. A rogue winemaker had wandered into the bathroom, and in an epiphany finally decided what aspect of the winemaking process was most important.
2. A sophomore from UT tried to get fancy and spell the word "diatribe."
3. The ghost of someone killed by a giant pile of soil was trying to warn us.

Since ghosts scare the crap out of me, I'm ruling that one out (because I don't want to think about it anymore), and since we all know that a sophomore trying to spell "diatribe" most likely wouldn't even come up with "dirt" (that's still way more letters than they would probably have command over), I guess I'll have to go with option #1. The rogue winemaker. It seems appropriate, seeing as how the Hole is a booze joint.

Incidentally, I saw this guy playing his heart out on the middle stage of the bar:

I gotta get a better camera.

Anyhoo, that's Jacob Jones, and like I said, he was singing his brains out for the ladies who were swooning. That room sounds killer, BTW. But I digress. Back to DIRT.

It's true that my massively bitchin' powers of deduction led me to what I call the "Rogue Winemaker Pristine Bullet Theory," but I'm still not satisfied. I mean, how could I possibly think that I, a mere mortal, could understand the true depth and breadth of that solitary, cosmic word?

Hopefully, "Dirt" isn't a big, scary guy who will track me down and show his dis-appreciation for the free publicity.

See you at The Hole.

Notes From the Wall

The bathroom wall, that is. Peep this:


Now that is a big ol' fat wisdom bomb right there. In case you can't read it, the graffiti found here on the men's room at the Hole in the Wall reads, "Sucker Punching is Not Cool."

We tend to agree. However, it could be argued that the concept of the "sucker punch" is ambiguous and open to interpretation. For instance, what if we're not talking about the type of punch, but the receiver of said punch? Can't we all agree that, at times, a true sucker really needs to get socked in the tamale-hole? Or what about that crazy dream you had that one time, in which that gigantic Blow-Pop was trying to get it on with your girlfriend? Now that sucker had that punch coming.

But in the interests of world peace, harmony, and keeping teeth inside faces, we here at the Hole in the Wall are going to subscribe to what we believe is the intention of this little literary gem that rests on the wall of the patio men's room... Clocking someone when they have no idea it's about to happen is pretty lame. Just ask Snooki.

Awwwww... Now who would want to hurt this cute little thing? No one here at the Hole in the Wall. Well, that might be completely false. Who knows?

All we're saying is this: the next time you feel like sucker punching someone, take a deep breath, cruise over to the Hole in the Wall, have a drink, and relax.

We'll see you at the bar.