Friday, January 23, 2004

fade to 34

Oh shit man. it's the early mornin'. i just got home i didn't bring my keys with me man. i got out of the taxi, it's fucking 16 degrees outside, and there i am, no way into the house man. (happy birthday) my roomie, Becca came down and let me in. Thank JESUS. Seriously. my job made me drink tequila man. they made me drink so much that my t-shirt is gray. not sure what happened there. i know i found myself downstairs at this bar called Swift asking the bartender where my glasses were. I know that it was early morning before i figured out where they actually were. When i came to, the cycs were painted. the studios were tuned, (sort of) i mean, i've got to get up and do it in the morning, no way around it man. i should be asleep right now, but what can i say? i have to do what i gotta do man. THEY made me do it man. Tequila will get you every time man. and then i've got to go check out bob mould in brooklyn. and here i am sitting at the machine listening to the Rev. Good times.

and what's my name? shit man. one more year and i can make a run for the president. I could beat bush. you'll see man. i'm cooler than that dude. yes i smoked pot, but fuggit. i'm sure i'm still better. and you know what? if i were president, i'd be willing to not smoke pot, but if my country wanted me to smoke pot, i'd be open minded about it man. i'd smoke it if you wanted me to.

Plus, my nails are wicked dirty. the dirtiest i've seen them. not sure what happened there man. looks like i've been digging in the mud or something. not sure what happened, but i look like i been up to no good man, working construction or something. like, there's dirt around my nails on the outside and on the underside too. it's wierd man. seriously. like i was making sandwiches with mud. like i was digging in the grease. wierd. but fuggit. i made it home man. i made it back to brooklyn. not that i wanted to, i just did. and for those of you in SF and points west, you did great man. you called on time. and for Oren, here in NYC, great distraction man. trying to trick me into investing in my future. take a man up and bring him to the brink man. you do alright. good times. Thank you for a little tequila.(they gave me a bottle of reposito 1800 and said, what's left is yours!) what was left was an empty bottle man. be careful. we work with the big boys. no little kids around that i know of. but i gotta try and make good comes the morning. Ol' Clang's in the house. Can't let a nigga down.

keepin' it real. try not to be so offended man. I mean, they're just words. and when you think about it, you never complained when folks told you that the indians were savages. i mean, i grew up with the idea that the only good indian was a dead one. I mean come on man. that just ain't PC. you gotta be nice man. you can't mow folks down like grass anymore. Those days are over man. I mean, it was cool while it lasted, but then it turned out to be a bunch of horseshit. and we got stuck eating it.

god bless us everyone. and hay, Happy Birthday man. i hear you're 34 today.good job man. way to handle it.

danconnortown 03.12.24a 16˚f/clear

tricky is playing on my iTunes (contradictive)

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