…but I’ll live with it. That’s not really the point of my post, and hopefully you’ll believe me. If you don’t believe me, just remember that I’ve never revealed the name of the supermodel I dumped to marry my ultra hot wife.

(I should clarify that the supermodel part is a joke. An average guy wouldn’t have to clarify something like that, but I know some of you might think I actually dated a supermodel. I didn’t. No, really. I didn’t.)

Anyway, my good buddy Michael Armstrong (whose website I would link to if he had visited it himself in the last ten months) is on the road playing acoustic guitar and keys for a new country artist named Julie Roberts. Her debut album released this week, and I’ve added it to my collection (and to my album list on the right). I’ve probably bought five country cds in the last five years, but I really like what I’m hearing so far. She’s the real deal — a smoky, soulful voice singing songs without a lot of the glitz and cheese that make most modern country go down like a shards o’ glass freeze pop.

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