Yessaround

But, see, if I do ever have those moments of euphoric recall, or want to think the good old days can be re-got, I have to remember that this is EXACTLY what will happen:

1. drink a bunch of Txakolina...fizzy!

2. suddenly be in some weird town, possibly Indianapolis?

3. end up at some sporting event, maybe Colts/Redskins [don't care if they are in the same league and don't play each other or whatever - leave me alone!]

4. After said match, wander street and end up blacked out in some bar where there is a cover band playing some piece of shit like "Down on the Corner" by CCR to appreciatively happy and soulless goons. Lead singer says, afore launching into a rousing "Brown Eyed Girl," "Thanks for coming out, folks - we're called Yessaround!" after the uber-deathmaking Black Crowes line "hard to handle, now/yessaround" [if that's indeed what Mr Robinson says; either way, the band in my fantasy-drunk revery here heard it that way and so appelled themselves]

5. I go berserk and start rending human flesh from bones with my teeth

So, yeah, no Basque vino for me!