People make mistakes. Like this entire album.
In honor of doppelganger week I am posting about a topic that I have been ruthlessly annoyed by for at least half a decade. I would have been cool if this fake imposter Aaron Short were a decent if slightly undersized shooting guard in a high school in Reno, NV, or even a dude susptected in a string of convenience store robberies outside Pittsburgh, but an awful John Mayer-wannabe British folk musician who is selling out shows in Chicago and has his own myspace page? And what the Hell is a bluejack? Is that like blackjack but for men with no balls? Let's take a look at an interview excerpt from his homepage, you guessed it, www.aaronshort.com:
“I’ve always been into the lyrical and the gutsy, the artists who aren’t afraid to be deep,” he says.
Moving to London at the age of 21, Short began to play anywhere he could, continually refining his songs. “When I first began songwriting, I wrote just to write,” he remembers. “But I soon began working to put my own experience in my songs, and I found ways to make my personal experience strike a chord with the audience.”
This has to stop before he becomes more famous than me. This blog is already outpacing google alert searches under (shudder) our name, and all I need is a few bad critical reviews and a cocaine bender or two before Mr. Short is selling his website name to me for pennies on the pound. Make no mistake, before the year is over I will end you Aaron Short. You hear me? I WILL END YOU!
On another note, the Super Bowl is later today featuring two teams that are not the New England Patriots. I could care less who wins. But, in the Puppy Bowl, I am rooting for Royal, the Husky mix, to make a statement and drop a few points in the end zone. And by points, I mean poop. Puppy touchdown!
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