So, I just got home from Topsail, NC. It is paradise. Beautiful, clean beaches. Super nice people. Gorgeous weather. And of course, adorable little bars staffed by tan surfer girls with cute southern accents. Hot Papa was practically drooling all over himself.
We shared a big beautiful house with my high school friend, Melons, her sister JB, and three of JB’s friends…Titty, Lala, and Tay. HP and I got the master bedroom since we were the only couple and this was the view from our room. Don’t hate.
Hot Papa spent a fair amount of time building elaborate sand sculptures on the beach. The beach itself was relatively private, as there was no public access for about a quarter mile on either side of the house. Naturally, HP wanted to show off his work, and became pissed when random people would walk by and NOT notice his sculptures. Honestly, how could you not notice a motorcycle sized scorpian just chillin on the beach?
So HP drew arrows in the sand pointing to his sculptures and then posted himself on the back porch, waiting for people to come along and see them, take pictures, report the pictures to the local news, making HP an instant local celebrity. That did not happen. However, a few groups did come along and take pictures.
We decided to hit up a local bar one night for what we thought would be karoke…according to the directory in the beach house, anyway. We walked into a quiet bar that was empty except for a group of old men playing poker. The bartender (tan, blonde, and southern, of course) informed us that we had the wrong night for karoke. She was really sweet, so we stayed for a drink and then hit the bar next door called Margarita’s. We walked in and Hot Papa and I felt right at home. This was our kind of spot…a little divey, but not too much, cute signs and decorations on the walls, and awesome music playing.
After about five minutes of listening to the music, HP and I looked at each other and both said, “Who the heck is this?” We had never heard this music before. It has a blue grass type of feel, complete with some bad ass mandolin playing…but also has a hip hop feel to it. I can’t really even describe it. It was like John Prine had a baby with Sublime, or maybe Eminem…they would need to get a paternity test to be sure. Barenaked Ladies could possibly be a distant relative. I don’t really know, it was unlike anything I have ever heard. What I DO know is that the lead vocalist’s voice is, to be quite honest, sexy as hell. Meeeeowwwww, ladies.
We asked the (tan and adorable) bartender (who we later came to know as Krissi) and she told us that it is a local band called Wildlife. OMG. Local bands are not usually THAT freaking awesome. I looked around the bar and noticed that most of the locals were singing along to all the songs. Krissi the bartender (who put on a hula hooping show unlike anything I have ever seen) promised to get us a cd. We stopped back a few days later to get it…and listened to it the entire way home.
I became obsessed with the second song on the CD (I have no idea what the song is called because there are no song titles on it). The entire song is all about getting super drunk at a party, blacking out, and then having to apologize to everyone the next day. Who hasn’t been there, right? Anyway, check out their facebook page, ‘like’ it, listen to their music…it’s pretty bad ass. Seriously. Hot Mama wouldn’t steer you wrong. I am bound and determined to get them up to the ‘burgh one of these days to perform. Or maybe HP and I will just move to Topsail…
Stay tuned for my next post, when I will write about what I remember from our night out in Wilmington, NC…a very cool city where I may or may not have danced with a drag queen. I mean, I danced with someone for sure. Was it a girl? Was it a boy? The world may never know.
Love and Sunshine!!