For Carrie Faulknor-Peirce

I used to tell people with guitars that "Yellow Ledbetter" was the only song I could play. I'd spice-up the story with various jargon such as calling the instrument a "git-box" or referencing frets, pick thickness, and effects pedals. Inevitably a guitar would be passed to me with the permission to "go ahead and play" or something of that ilk. Next I'd just say, "Oh, sorry, I don't do requests."

But that was yesteryear. Nowadays I do something similar, but with the harmonica and citing that playing has become too painful as it reminds me of my days in prison. So be warned: I can't play a lick. There's not a musical bone in my body. I can't even snap my fingers to "the rhythm".

Maybe it's in my genes. My mom never learned how to whistle and is forced to say things like, "Freet-froo" when she sees someone worthy of a cat-call.

But enough about me. Carrie wants the bare belly and I want to prove that there's no shame in taking requests. So without further ado I present you with a gallery of the belly. ENJOY!




*Happy Birthday Jim Schneider*