Nikki Miller-Rose was born and raised in Aberdeen, a town on the South Dakota prairie large enough for neither Olive Garden nor Red Lobster, but sufficient to support a Dairy Queen – with adjacent mini golf course! – both of which have since closed.

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Residents of Aberdeen still hold out hope for an Olive Garden; Nikki on the other hand escaped at the age of eighteen to attend Macalester College, a real fancy school in Saint Paul, Minnesota, and has since made her home across the river in Minneapolis. The only good place to get Italian food in Minnesota is at the Olive Garden, and that is a damned shame.

Nikki shares her life, travels and her one-bathroom home, plus a ninety-pound dog resembling a Holstein dairy cow, with a cabinet-maker and drummer named Alex. They sang “Jackson” to each other at their wedding in lieu of a first dance, even though “Jackson” is a decidedly unromantic song. They occasionally perform electronic covers of assorted swamp rock, Cajun and country tunes, Jerry Reed and the like, wearing alligator masks and ghillie suits. It passes the time.

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Nikki doesn’t give as much a shit about Italian food as this bio might let on, but she does really like Jerry Reed; Nikki is a contributor to the Twin Cities’ alt-weekly publication City Pages, where she writes a regular blog about country music and occasionally contributes content ranging from food reviews to baby farm animal photo slideshows, the latter of which has been deemed amateurish at best by the types of people who comment on such things online. She completed her MFA in Creative Writing at Hamline University in 2012, and is working on a memoir about country music, county fairs, and growing up in South Dakota.

In no particular order, the following are the weirdest things to have happened to Nikki in her adult life:

  • Drinking Coors with the Silver Bullet Band in Saint Paul, Minnesota
  • Drinking Coors with the day’s winners at the rodeo in Cheyenne, Wyoming, while attending as personal guest of Ronnie Dunn of country-western duo Brooks & Dunn
  • Cutting off that one guy’s ear after he spit beer in her own, all while drunk on Coors at a beer joint down in Houston, Texas

One of those things only really truthfully happened in a Johnny Paycheck song, but Nikki did once make friends with a rodeo winner at a hot dog stand in Fort Worth, after she made a dick joke upon hearing his buddy ask for “the biggest one I can fit in my mouth.” Now see, if you go easy on the Colorado Kool-Aid, it’s possible none of this could ever happen to you, and wouldn’t that be a shame? Hey barmaid, bring us a big, tall glass of that Colorado Kool-Aid.

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