934-texas
i'm so done with cons it's ridiculous. i don't like hot air or cramped rooms, how i got through my summer tour i dunno. these places make me suffocate, and i've got george in one ear and clay in the other. and porn stars to my right and b movie hearthrobs to the left, talking to sad old women that ignore the fact he's gayer than cotton candy. i don't want to become one of these people. peter mayhew looked so sad and bored. they roll in with their bags on wheels and they pull out their glossies, and if you're erin grey, you knit until someone asks you what the code was to the cell 14 in episode 68b. i got a smattering of attention. again nothing record breaking, but everyone that likes me and finds me are really happy that they did. and it makes me feel like the one thing at the con that's new and not old. daniel logan came up to me and asked me if i was mcchris, steve sansweet wanted to get the album that had fett's vett, but everybody asks that. john just looked at me and said, let's put it on hassle. it's a thought as we're repressing it. logan is now on my voice mail. we're on a bounty hunt together. his idea.
my birthday. it was crazy lowkey. bucky gave me every hawkeye comic book ever made. skittle gave me a card. that was about it. i went out to azul after hanging out at push push for a second. it was great to see my old friends, but i felt so out of it, like i wasn't part of anything, no place, no connections. maybe that will all change this winter. luckily i had a friend there that i see movies with, and she felt exactly the same. i left after one round, not really feeling like dancing. the best part of this weekend was driving around in my jet grey malibu rental and blasting songs like shake it off, caught up, bad bitch. blasting hip hop in the atl with the windows down on a pefect night is heaven. i had expected some people to come in for my show on saturday, but they went back and forth on it and then didn't show up. i got informed via myspace. that is not good customer relations.
ladies i'm back on the market. except now i'm old. and lecherous. quite possibly sex starved.
i was bummed out withthe kids from florida not coming up and i felt kinda cursed again, lovewise, so i decided to really kick back at the drunken unicorn and hang out with fans and have a beer during the show. just take requests. i made a bunch of hulk jokes, but i basically have felt like nothing i've said makes any sense, or it's only heard as mumbles. i'm not clicking with anything right now so i'm just gonna chill, maybe keep my motor mouth shut.
john got to spin before the show and i danced to his set in the green room right behind the stage. i should've called my movie buddy who is also my dancing partner. she was at home organizing her desk top and scolded me out the next night for not making the emergency come dance with me in my green room call.
the next day we had a little red haired groupie that followed me and my crew around all day to the chagrin of her friends. she kept on telling me when she was gonna turn eighteen. she hung out at our booth for three hours before i showed up. i let her hang out with us, and then she became the team mascot, so we let her come out with us that night. we just went up to some kids' hotel room and danked out for a long time, drinkin beers out of a cooler. she kept on making calls to her friends, while john showed the room the kanye clip or aria giovani fisting herself on his computer. (aria's tits made me forget about new orleans. it's like if mother earth had tits, they'd look like that. i'm not a big tit guy either, prolly cuz i wasn't breast fed. but her boobs kinda put the world at ease, and i needed something in that sweat box mariott marquis. thanks again aria.) i almost slept with the groupie, but nothing happened. it would've been my first attempt at the infamous statutory title. was i so angry at florida that i would take such a huge risk? i guess so. her friends found her and scolded her immediately, "where do you think you're going?" i should prolly thank her friends, fuckin little girls to spite someone is hardly impressive. she was a cutie though. fuckin red heads are the death of me.
last night the con ended and i got a little super 8 hotel of my very own and am now chillin hardcore. i thought about staying in bed for an entire day, and i still might, but i may go out. i had a great night last night. we went to the brew house and then saw 40 year old again (i cried again) and then we had the atl usual (pbr and jd) at the earl for a while. when i walked out i saw a poster that said reggie was touring with chemical romance. that's what i want for christmas. i stole the poster just in case i never get to go. this week i'll be bbq'ing with friends and heading into williams street to visit and see the new shows. they've got like nothing but new content for the fall. i talked with some 70-30 folks over the weekend, they were happy to hear how much america loves sealab. they have new offices and a new show, maybe i'll get to see that.
the point is i don't really care much what i do this week. i could just sleep in a bed and that'd be a vacation for me. i come home to a new apartment three blocks for john. i won't see it all fall, but i'll spend my winter there, writing the album. can you imagine the wintry gloom? i can. too well. thanks to everyone who came to my show, everyone who said happy birthday, and most importantly aria's tits, they would've stopped that levee leak like what. xomc
my birthday. it was crazy lowkey. bucky gave me every hawkeye comic book ever made. skittle gave me a card. that was about it. i went out to azul after hanging out at push push for a second. it was great to see my old friends, but i felt so out of it, like i wasn't part of anything, no place, no connections. maybe that will all change this winter. luckily i had a friend there that i see movies with, and she felt exactly the same. i left after one round, not really feeling like dancing. the best part of this weekend was driving around in my jet grey malibu rental and blasting songs like shake it off, caught up, bad bitch. blasting hip hop in the atl with the windows down on a pefect night is heaven. i had expected some people to come in for my show on saturday, but they went back and forth on it and then didn't show up. i got informed via myspace. that is not good customer relations.
ladies i'm back on the market. except now i'm old. and lecherous. quite possibly sex starved.
i was bummed out withthe kids from florida not coming up and i felt kinda cursed again, lovewise, so i decided to really kick back at the drunken unicorn and hang out with fans and have a beer during the show. just take requests. i made a bunch of hulk jokes, but i basically have felt like nothing i've said makes any sense, or it's only heard as mumbles. i'm not clicking with anything right now so i'm just gonna chill, maybe keep my motor mouth shut.
john got to spin before the show and i danced to his set in the green room right behind the stage. i should've called my movie buddy who is also my dancing partner. she was at home organizing her desk top and scolded me out the next night for not making the emergency come dance with me in my green room call.
the next day we had a little red haired groupie that followed me and my crew around all day to the chagrin of her friends. she kept on telling me when she was gonna turn eighteen. she hung out at our booth for three hours before i showed up. i let her hang out with us, and then she became the team mascot, so we let her come out with us that night. we just went up to some kids' hotel room and danked out for a long time, drinkin beers out of a cooler. she kept on making calls to her friends, while john showed the room the kanye clip or aria giovani fisting herself on his computer. (aria's tits made me forget about new orleans. it's like if mother earth had tits, they'd look like that. i'm not a big tit guy either, prolly cuz i wasn't breast fed. but her boobs kinda put the world at ease, and i needed something in that sweat box mariott marquis. thanks again aria.) i almost slept with the groupie, but nothing happened. it would've been my first attempt at the infamous statutory title. was i so angry at florida that i would take such a huge risk? i guess so. her friends found her and scolded her immediately, "where do you think you're going?" i should prolly thank her friends, fuckin little girls to spite someone is hardly impressive. she was a cutie though. fuckin red heads are the death of me.
last night the con ended and i got a little super 8 hotel of my very own and am now chillin hardcore. i thought about staying in bed for an entire day, and i still might, but i may go out. i had a great night last night. we went to the brew house and then saw 40 year old again (i cried again) and then we had the atl usual (pbr and jd) at the earl for a while. when i walked out i saw a poster that said reggie was touring with chemical romance. that's what i want for christmas. i stole the poster just in case i never get to go. this week i'll be bbq'ing with friends and heading into williams street to visit and see the new shows. they've got like nothing but new content for the fall. i talked with some 70-30 folks over the weekend, they were happy to hear how much america loves sealab. they have new offices and a new show, maybe i'll get to see that.
the point is i don't really care much what i do this week. i could just sleep in a bed and that'd be a vacation for me. i come home to a new apartment three blocks for john. i won't see it all fall, but i'll spend my winter there, writing the album. can you imagine the wintry gloom? i can. too well. thanks to everyone who came to my show, everyone who said happy birthday, and most importantly aria's tits, they would've stopped that levee leak like what. xomc