I'm not a big believer in the afterlife, but if there is one, I will kiss the good lord's purple tentacles if it's anything like Austin, Texas: a paradise of pork and whiskey, great music, and the friendliest people on Earth. After months of juggling four jobs at once and trying to live and party in NYC on less than a hundo a week (harder than it sounds), I couldn't wait to get to South By Southwest and I felt like Austin was waving me in with welcome arms. By some fluke in the weather it even made our plane land three hours early -- who has luck like that? Oh cloven-footed Gods of Austin: how many cute and fuzzy woodland critters must I sacrifice to show my thanks?

My buddy Hersey and I flew down to stay with one of my favorite people on the planet, Jessi Cornett (buy her jewelry), the wonderfully talented Tara McPherson (buy her new book from Darkhorse Comics), and the lovely April Mirvis. Two months ago we had a dinner party in my dark little Brooklyn kitchen and I served these ladies roast pigeons that I had purchased in Chinatown. Amazingly, they are still my friends.

Our first night in Austin, Hersey and I got to see H.R. from Bad Brains, and The Circle Jerks - who I've been a fan of since I saw "Repo Man" in high school. The frontman for The Circle Jerks is 53 years old, and still jumps around the stage like he was 18. It was one of the better shows I've seen in years. The Circle Jerks recorded a song with Debbie Gibson (yeah, that Debbie Gibson) in the 90s, and I was a little bummed she didn't leap on stage and belt one out with them. I think my heart would have popped out of my chest like in Alien.

At 5 A.M. that night, I *somehow* managed to get a head wound at Jessi's house, which has since turned into a pretty awesome scar. It was an insanely lame and hilarious accident which I will not recap here out of shame, but we quickly decided to come up with a story to cover the real truth about what happened. The new story is that I was hit in the head with a flaming log at The Circle Jerks show. But you should see the other guy. That's my story and I'm stickin to it, and lucky for me I have friends who have my back. I was chatting with some tattooed guy at an afterparty one night and he was quick to ask where I got my scar. Tara just smiled and looked and me and just said "Circle Jerks". And we all clinked beers. Love her.

South By Southwest is something everyone who is interested in music should experience. I'm not a big fan of the Lollapalooza breed of festival where you need binoculars to see your favorite band. SXSW is held in tiny bars and clubs around Austin, which is a far more intimate way to see your favorite bands. In just 24 hours I was able to see my three favorite songwriters, Andy Falkous (of the Welsh punk band McLusky), Lou Barlow (of Sebadoh and Dinosaur, Jr.) and Daniel Johnston (Netflix this film immediately) all from less than 10 feet away.

I'm realizing that this post has quickly devolved into the lazy rantings of a music geek, so I am going to cut it short. But if you would like to see some pics from one of my best holidays in recent memory, they're up on my Flickr:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/27780059@N07/sets/72157616107276446