**

I was over at Webmiztris' blog the other day and she was posting about the name of her band. A name that involves certain slang names for facets of the female anatomy, if you know what I mean ... OKAY! I'll say it. The name of her band is Pussywhip and she was asking her readers opinion as to whether she should change the name in order to easier get publicity or say "Fuck 'em ... if they can be the Butthole Surfers, We can be Pussywhip!"

**Edit: She has since decided to re-name the band "Kitty Whip" so as not to shoot herself in the foot right out of the gate. Good call Dawn. That's why "starving" artists are ... starving, that is. Get big and you can do what the fuck you want! Just look at John Cougar, er, John Cougar Mellencamp, er, John Mellencamp. Yeah ... that dude.

In any case, she is a very funny bitch blogger and you should be reading her.

Her post brought back a memory of a time I was in Savannah, visiting my brother. We went in this bar on Tybee Island called Skipper's. The bar had an energy drink for sale there and my brother told me it was delicious when mixed with ... fuck, I don't remember ... something alcoholic. He said it tasted like lemonade, I think, but that it would knock you on your ass!

I agreed to try it and we were ready to order. Of course he hadn't told me the name of the shit yet.