Condescending Footnotes

I got a new weed dealer dood. He just left. He’s pretty cool I guess; made his first delivery today and showed up only one hour late. He didn’t even call when he got to the block, just rang the doorbell like he had been here a million times before. Cat took the subway over, which I thought was kinda weird (Hey weed dealer dood, join the TODAY. How you gonna crawl around the city slanging sacks on the train? That’s just unprofessional. Get a bucket,* for chrissakes). He had some proper weight for a decent price though, and was pleasant enough, as far as strangers go. We talked a little about different grades of weed, and writing, and how great Tivo is. Now that I think of it, he was pretty cool, I look forward to providing him with my hard earned money in exchange for his fat sacks of dank.

Earlier I had a meeting with a label. Before that I just sorta sat around tinkering on the internet. Oh yeah, and I took a shower. And I ate a few pieces of rolled up lunchmeat. I had a glass of coffee before that. Before that I was asleep.

The sun put a hard shine on New York City today and by the time I got to Washington Square I had to take my jacket off. Charles had already stripped down to his tshirt, sleeves cut off Alabama trucker style. I noticed the large stars tattooed on his shoulder were not only identical, but also perfectly symmetrical, and quietly complimented whoever did his work. Kevin was already there in a thin leather jacket and Prada shades. I knew they were Prada because I thought they looked kinda weird and clocked the metal label on the side that bore the legend. It was a beautiful afternoon and students crowded the park and the we all choose to have our meeting outside and the ice cream vendors made a killing.

Everything went swell. We got the rough draft to a dope record and the bulletpoints** aint even added yet. Everyone was on the same page. I bummed a cigarette and took some notes while smoking it. We started the meeting in the shade, but eventually that got chilly, so we moved it out to the open under the clear warm azure of the sky. That’s where we ended it too. It was pretty fucking sweet.

In other news:

- Steven Colbert has balls like a church. His speech at the White House Correspondence dinner has bumped him up from my dog to my hero (next to Tom Sizemore, of course).

-Super Soaker is finally getting kids under 15 hip to bukkake. Is that legal? Am I a pervert for even asking that?

- Radiohead are doing a North American tour of just smaller venues. They say they will play mostly new songs. Tickets start at $360, so start giving handjobs now, you might have enough to go.

*Bucket – n. slang: 1. Car. Automobile. Popularized in the late 1980’s by gangster rap group NWA.

**Bulletpoints – n. slang. (commonly used in the record industry): 1. The highlights of a record, i.e. exceptional songs or performances. 2. The well-known players involved in the making of a record, i.e. an acclaimed producer or guest appearance by well-known artist. 3. Examples of the money sunk into a project. Usually a cheap way to attract retailers to an album.