So, earlier I was having an adult beverage with my Auntie B at Beyond the Edge, when a curious thing happened. We were just chilling, talking internet shit, when we heard this dude behind us all, "Yeah, it’s called Nashville is Talking, and it’s a great way to see what people in Nashville are talking about. It has all these blogs on the right-hand side that update automatically, and on the right it’s more editorial…Yeah, man, Stacey Campfield has a blog…yep, NashvilleIsTalking.com."

Now, in all the two plus years I worked for WKRN I never, ever overheard anyone talk about my blog. A week after I quit, the site gets some word-of-mouth. Figures.

Anyway, that was weird, but not quite as weird as the staggeringly drunk redneck who came tumbling out of the door, walked up to B and mumbled something about "What the hell…eating…" His friend quickly told Juiced Up John to straighten up, while I gave them my very best What the Fuck Face. A minute later John was rubbing his jean shorts-clad ass on some woman’s Ford pickup. John was tore down and it wasn’t even 6 p.m.

I need to get out more.

UPDATE: I feel like an asshole for not knowing that’s what was said at my table last night. I’m mad as hell now, and feel like going Sycamore Rec on that fucker.