Act your shoe size, not your age

Check out our illustrated t-shirt featured in this treasury curated by Jocelyn of Flowerleaf Handmade Jewelry at Etsy.com.

Breaking it down for papaw

We skype with mad flow.

Cyber 45 #3

The next in a long line of forthcoming double dippers from the joel rockey archives which were recently remined and remixed in The Mustard Room. Dig these delectables at our bandcamp page by clicking right here.

Horizons lost and forthcoming

This past week's end, Mama Jane and your's truly celebrated ten years of wedded adventures together in the mighty fort of wayne. We spent an evening together as a prelude to the next three days of wedding frenzy and debriefing. If you're wondering whether or not i'm referring to baby brother Nick's marriage to Allison, you're right. I am. Check out the previous shot of some family shenanigans during a partial family photo op. Baby Jane looks on in bemusement.

Then, check out this goofy shot in which Mama Jane looks gorgeous while your's truly looks downward at Baby Jane who appears to be dazzled by off-camera bubbles...

She's quite delighted to pose next to her sweet ride...

Mama Jane: "I have a few questions about that sign..."

"Are they hiring dancers on Sunday and Monday, for Sunday and Monday, or is Sunday and Monday the ten dollar couch dance?"

After a few laughs and some further consideration...

Mama Jane: "Ten dollars for a couch dance seems pretty reasonable."

This woman has made me laugh for over ten years.

p.s. Has anyone told you how amazing the new Arcade Fire album is? Allow me.

Our contribution to shark week, and the captain of your heart

So, shark week is coming to a close and we didn’t want to miss the golden opportunity to contribute to the cause. Therefore, we at The Mustard Room submit this counterpoint to the bear’s convincing argument in the ongoing campaign of shark vs. bear. He’s quite the dapper gentleman. Be on the lookout for apparel sporting the likeness of this mustachioed fish of fury. To be honest, I was not aware that shark week was such a big deal. I have to side with my business partner/nemesis, hector on this one…

"Apparently, shark week is now globally recognized as a season of awareness and recognition of the many contributions of man's best fiend, the shark. Let's all raise a PBR to those cold-blooded toothy harbingers of doom! My, what a smooth, robust likeness of a fine Pilsner." -Hector Laveta, via Facebook

A fine pilsner, indeed, sir.

Now on to more pressing matters, namely that napkin on the left-hand side of my notebook dripping with the affections of a mob of young ladies. That's right, merely hours after our last post describing the self-inflicted loss of my beard, i was accosted by a group of teenage, at my place of employment no less, who handed me the following.

How a thirty-four-year-old dude like myself could be handed a note beginning with the words "Kid with the Hat" is beyond me. I especially like that they apparently had a discussion in which they all came to an agreement that i was a "dreamboat" before further deliberating on whether or not to disclose this information to me. Toward the end of the note things just get weird and ambiguous and all kinds of awkward. Regardless, i tipped my hat and thanked them for their kindness as they exited. Fortunately, i had my fellow Strange Brew associates there to help me laugh through this emotionally confusing encounter. My sincerest gratitude goes out once again to Ms. Chamberlain for keeping my ego in check during the remainder of the evening.

After sharing this story with Mama Jane, we laughed about how i should have asked these young ladies if they were interested in babysitting my two-year-old daughter while my wife and i went out to celebrate ten years of marriage. Ah, if should'ves and would'ves were nickels and dimes...

Perhaps now would be an appropriate opportunity to check in on the resurrection of the facial follicle force-field.

Hmm... Not much to report, but minimal progress is progress none the less. Remember, the fragile emotions of young ladies everywhere are at stake here.

Everything old is a new kind of old again

Excitement continues to build in regards to the grand hootenanny which will definitely be in full swing come the twentieth of august. We're hoping that the acreage featured in the preceding photograph will be blanketed in a diverse cross-section of america. As you will notice, our host barn sits among the stars as the moon glows majestically upon her. Expect to be nothing less than cosmically spellbound.

So, after much deliberation, the first round of painting the long-detested kitchen cabinets has been initiated. Everything old is a new kind of old again. As highlighted above, the orange faux wood finish is being exchanged for a generous crispy-clean, reflective, and all-around aesthetically superior high-gloss makeover. More on that in future times.

Also opting for a crispy-clean, reflective, high-gloss makeover...

During a possibly narcotic-induced haircut, yours truly grabbed the electric sheers from the unsuspecting barberess and maniacally watched my face fall to the floor. I warned the astonished onlookers (most notably Mama Jane and Grandma) not to get too used to the new old look. I feel totally nude and, as pointed out by my coworker Ms. Chamberlain, the ladies are taking note. I have to regrow this force-field of sexually-repellent hair quickly, lest i strike smitten one too many naive ladies.

No sleep for the sopping wet

When not sweating and sipping hot coffee whilst singing the body electric, we at A Rockey Home Companion are working hard to bring you occasional blog posts with moderately interesting content. For reals though, the dog days of summer have been kind to us by providing grab bags of opportunity for creating and being created. Our magical sanctum, The Mustard Room, has lent her walls to the cradling of some sonic playscaping as of late. Firstly, we have added #3 to the cyber 45 collection which can now be enjoyed and downloaded here. Secondly, as depicted in the above candid photo, my fellow gentlemen broncos and myself have been rendezvousing for some face-melting hi-jinks of antarctic proportions. Don't let me build it up too much, but kingdoms shall fall. Speaking of which, after months of sitting on the idea, this is happening.

All of these things and more. Then, a housefly went nuts and kept trying to land on our faces all night long. Now for a message to that housefly: Dear housefly, if you were once a friend or colleague and you were trying to get our attention so that we might help find a remedy to your altered state, then i'm sorry i beat the crap out of you and flushed you down the toilet. Seriously though, dude, there are better ways than keeping us from enjoying our sleep and forcing us to camp out on sofas. However, we shall never forget you and your legacy will live on and on...

Now, as the sun sets on another blog posting, the prophetic words once uttered by Criswell resonate in our collective consciousness: "Let us punish the guilty. Let us reward the innocent. My friend, can your heart stand the shocking facts of grave robbers from outer space?"