Two dudes were born unto wolves deep in the ozark mountains. They fashioned guitars out of rocks and snakes. Then they rested for many days and nights. The following evening they played these crude instruments for a drunken audience. And as the saying goes, the rest is all blisters and herpes. What? No. I didn't say herpes, I said dreams. Wait, this thing doesn't have a backspace key? C'mon! Quacks like dog! Stomp and Holler tunes for elves!