The above picture says it all about Memphis. This town eats, sleeps, and shits Elvis. Not only can you get T-shirts and underwear with his image, but you can purchase a pair of novelty gold Elvis sun glasses everywhere, and those are never not funny.
Every year on the anniversary of his death thousands of Elvis fanatics from all over the world gather outside of his home, Graceland. The wonderful world of Graceland deserves it very own blog, you can read it at
Memphis is known as the "Bluff City" due to it's proximity to the Mississippi river and it's fortunate location on a bluff. The bluff protects Memphis from the ravaging nature of the Mississippi river, and causes it to flood Arkansas instead. Arkansas sucks, so they get what they deserve.
This is Beale St. It is to Memphis what Bourbon St. is to New Orleans, but with no girls showing their boobs for cheap plastic beads. Don't think I am not trying to get that started here, but it is an up hill battle. Beale St. consists primarily of Blues clubs and Piano bars. It is, apparently, a great place to hang out if you are a bachelorette party or a group of under-age drinkers. One block to the left is the Fed-Ex Forum where the Memphis Grizzlies play, and one block to the right is my apartment. The Forum brings in the crowds now, but in a few years after I become famous, either for winning the Nobel prize in literature, or after I snap and go on an unexplained killing spree, my apartment will be a tourist attraction as well. You can say, "I read his blog way back when. All the signs were there." That statement is good either way.