By Captain Adam Hoden
I Googled my name this morning. I Google my name every morning, but today there were three search results that excited me. First, at the very top of the search results page, was a link to Stinkin’ Patriots, Jesus Miguel Hernandez’s study of the besotted mess that is Inches O’Toole. Second, was a banner ad for wrestling shemale midgets. Finally, a YouTube clip of a band named Hoden Lane—quite possibly the best vaguely rockish alterna-indie combo ever.
It’s like they reached into my head, scooped out my brain, and put it in a blender. They added liberal amounts of talent, ice, Drambuie, orange bitters, and blended on medium for thirty seconds. Serve in a highball glass.
Also, they seem to have stolen my name.