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What is 2+2? 

Bud Nippin’

September 7th, 2009

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This week marks a small milestone for us as we post our 26th song. That means we’ve been doing this for half of a year now. 26 weeks. 6 months. A bunch of minutes. We know, it’s pretty amazing. Help us celebrate by keeping the questions coming! We’re having a ball!

We like to play around with different instruments and ruin other styles of music from time to time, but we thought we’d celebrate by pulling out all of the stops and writing a song a little more in line with what we traditionally play and know. What do we know? How to pretend we can rock faces off (utilizing some upbeat guitar, with Elliott on the trumpet, Jeff on the tenor sax, and finger-snaps. You’ve gotta have finger-snaps!*) . The advice presented to you on this occasion, however, is by no means traditional. We pondered for hours over what would be the best way to face the situation at hand, and we arrived at a well-planned concise solution.

So thanks to all of you fine connoisseurs of internet music advice who keep us motivated with support and questions. Here’s to another 6 months. Though, after that you might have to start solving your own problems.

Don’t stop the rock,
Jeff and Elliott

*Oooooo, behind the scenes peek!


Dear Jeff and Elliott,

My semi-adult (24 y.o.) son commutes between 2 towns. He often sleeps in his car at night, even though his brother and several others have offered him overnight lodging. I think the main reason he does this is because he does not want to inconvenience people. We argue about this frequently. I thought it was against the law, but he talked to a police officer and it is not. Please weigh in on this.

Thanks,
a Concerned Mom

P.S. His initials are…Ryan Dawes.

“Bud Nippin’”

Dear Concerned Mom,

So you’ve got a son who likes to sleep in his car
A real bohemian spending his nights under the stars
If what you want to do is nip this in the bud
The obvious course of action: pistol whip your son

Wait until it’s real late
Hire someone who’s great
At impersonating a bad guy

Your son is sound asleep
In his car’s back seat
When up walks your thief with a forty-five*

Punched out goes the window glass
Your son’s ripped out and thrown on his ass
Poetry and Birkenstocks won’t do any good
Round 1: The bohemian versus the hood

Knees on the ground, hands behind the back
Pistol butt to the head, vision fades to black
The sun’s up, your son’s up, he puts his hand to his head,
Now he’s pretty sure a car is a poor choice for a bed

So you’ve got a son who used to like to sleep in his car
But not anymore, now he’s black and blue and mentally scarred
If any other parents ever need to do some bud-nipping
Don’t be so quick to rule out a good pistol-whipping

*Don’t ever actually introduce a real/loaded gun into a problem-solving situation – send us an e-mail instead. Just make sure the fake one is nice and heavy!**

**If we suggest anything involving a gun, refer to the above disclaimer.

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