"My preferred use to this waste of trees is to write mubo jumbo that comes out as impaired lyrics. But whatever happens, happens, I guess." Clay Walker is in a band. He feels...well, he doesn't nessisarily know how. He's not trying anything in creating the journal except getting something real back in his life. Maybe recording his days just might be the answer...? Take a look into this rockstar's morbid mind. Only one warning: Beware.