Tonight I had to emcee a little bit of the country music event at a country club. The local sportscaster that had been roped into emceeing the day before was too nice to make stay an extra hour to say two lines. So, anyway, I had to thank the musician and introduce the ending of the silent auction.
The artist was an American Idol reject that had found his way to Nashville and I have to say that his voice was pretty damn good. However, his name was too damn hard to say. It's Josh Gracin. Like Grace-in. You go ahead and say it three times and see how great you sound. I had to overannunciate to get it done. Nonetheless I felt like I was trying to spit out Church Street Station.
Chef was nice enough to accompany me to this event. He got to see the true joy of taking rich people's pictures for society pages and making sure a local sportscaster is happy. Thank God he was there to help break up my long stretches of ass-kissing.
1 comment:
Does your backwoods Kentucky twang come equipped with a speech impediment? "Josh Gracin" is a cakewalk compared to the horrors of "Church Street Station." Mams and Paps scoff at you.
PS They also said to say hi to you guys!
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