For the second time in the last two weeks, I was offered drugs after a show. I turned the esteemed gentleman down, only to then have him counteroffer with a construction job. Who better to take a job from than a man who just offered to “burn one down” with me? At least it was pot and not cocaine this time. I got offered cocaine for a t-shirt DVD at a show recently – unfortunately, I don’t know the street value of cocaine, but I’m pretty damn sure it’s worth more than my DVD, t-shirt, and just about anything else I had in my possession.
What?
I pulled out of my place tonight to do two shows and as I hit the ridiculous speed of 9 mph, I slid (in my one month old tires) into a rock. My bumper is now bent… Thank you decorative rock! What have you done for me? You provided me with so much beauty that I have never actually seen b/c you’re only a foot tall. In return, you gave such wonderful gifts, such as a $300 repair bill and a stroke as I entered my black out rage phase. Good news? No rocks at my two shows tonight, but I did see a biography of Nikita Kruschev at the indie bar my first show was at. As I cleared the vomit from my mouth, I realized at least Nikita (girl name) never dented my bumper in. Thanks, fem name commie! I will now dedicate my life to fighting decorative rocks. We will dine in hell tonight!