hooked up with my ex-girlfriend last night.
she's cool.
It got absolutely awesome outside this afternoon. then i got on the subway and i remember ny in the summertime...rush hour, broken air on the trains, rubbing up on people you don't know, "packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes"...everyone's ass is all sweating and shit. fuck it. I'll take the weather. Like I shower every day; it's gotta be worse for someone anal.
Speaking of which, being the broke musician, occaisonally I do odd jobs for cash for this dangerously anal-retentive business guy. Today we took all of his summer suits out of storage, and took them off wire hangers and put them on wooden ones, then put all of the suits in the closet in the same order in which they were stored: by color and if they were suspender suits.
Only I wasn't allowed to touch the suits, the drycleaning plastic, or the wooden part of the hangars. just the hook. he did the delicate transfer. i held the hook. just the hook (he kept saying). we washed our hands before the job and halfway through. I think that's the last time I'm gonna work for him. This is ridiculous. But he has this kickass early-seventies Hiwatt half stack in mint condition.
another ex-girlfriend of mine just got in town for the summer...she's doing an album of children's songs. a little different than her usual girl-power rock and roll. anyways i haven't seen her in 2 years and we're having dinner tonight...we'll catch up on a lot of stuff. she used to play this wicked gibson sonex 180 with star wars stickers all over it. i liked it so much that i recently bought one. but i just found out that hers was stolen out of her truck at a gig in LA
Looks like i'm gonna do the soundtrack for this documentary about homless recyclers in San Fran. It's a really cool project. The only other soundtrack I did was for this rockabilly picture a few years ago. I ventured out of my depressed whiteboy niche to write slower countryesque songs. Actually the subject matter of the songs were related to the action of the movie. In the film, one brother of this texas guitar duo dies because of the negligence of the other. So he writes a song about it....I guess it was depressed whiteboy music after all, just circa texas 1958.
i hate reality tv. just so you know.
she's cool.
It got absolutely awesome outside this afternoon. then i got on the subway and i remember ny in the summertime...rush hour, broken air on the trains, rubbing up on people you don't know, "packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes"...everyone's ass is all sweating and shit. fuck it. I'll take the weather. Like I shower every day; it's gotta be worse for someone anal.
Speaking of which, being the broke musician, occaisonally I do odd jobs for cash for this dangerously anal-retentive business guy. Today we took all of his summer suits out of storage, and took them off wire hangers and put them on wooden ones, then put all of the suits in the closet in the same order in which they were stored: by color and if they were suspender suits.
Only I wasn't allowed to touch the suits, the drycleaning plastic, or the wooden part of the hangars. just the hook. he did the delicate transfer. i held the hook. just the hook (he kept saying). we washed our hands before the job and halfway through. I think that's the last time I'm gonna work for him. This is ridiculous. But he has this kickass early-seventies Hiwatt half stack in mint condition.
another ex-girlfriend of mine just got in town for the summer...she's doing an album of children's songs. a little different than her usual girl-power rock and roll. anyways i haven't seen her in 2 years and we're having dinner tonight...we'll catch up on a lot of stuff. she used to play this wicked gibson sonex 180 with star wars stickers all over it. i liked it so much that i recently bought one. but i just found out that hers was stolen out of her truck at a gig in LA
Looks like i'm gonna do the soundtrack for this documentary about homless recyclers in San Fran. It's a really cool project. The only other soundtrack I did was for this rockabilly picture a few years ago. I ventured out of my depressed whiteboy niche to write slower countryesque songs. Actually the subject matter of the songs were related to the action of the movie. In the film, one brother of this texas guitar duo dies because of the negligence of the other. So he writes a song about it....I guess it was depressed whiteboy music after all, just circa texas 1958.
i hate reality tv. just so you know.
yeah, wash hts. i have an insane amount of space. i'll invite you to visit sometime, but i assume you don't smoke the green weed so i won't invite you for that.
put your face back up, get the stonk outta there. ooh, you could bring her by and we could see if they'd kill each other. i got $5 bucks on the monkey.
the only reality tv i have liked is the osbournes, which i don't think is really in that category. you be the judge.
edit: impressive?
[Edited on Jun 09, 2003]