well, there goes another six hours of my life down the drain. i wasted my evening at a crappy house party full of rock n' roll hipster types. yuck.
studio time was last night, everything went smoothly and the results were very good. going to go back tonight and do a little more tracking, maybe a re-amp or two, mix and be done!
i am moving to los angeles in april, so my departure from suicide girls will be coming shortly. . you can mourn this most tragic loss, or for more fun you could instant message me and we can argue about it. i will play the angry husband home from a shitty day at the factory ready to drink and yell my blues away while you can be the frustrated housewife with no sexual or emotional outlets that craves my attention and affection. it'll be great, ill drink scotch whiskey and yell and you will say things like, "oh, james please. . not tonight!" and "stop! the neighbors will hear!"
i am moving to los angeles in april, so my departure from suicide girls will be coming shortly. . you can mourn this most tragic loss, or for more fun you could instant message me and we can argue about it. i will play the angry husband home from a shitty day at the factory ready to drink and yell my blues away while you can be the frustrated housewife with no sexual or emotional outlets that craves my attention and affection. it'll be great, ill drink scotch whiskey and yell and you will say things like, "oh, james please. . not tonight!" and "stop! the neighbors will hear!"
more strange dreams. . i was walking down an avenue somewhere along the french riviera on a rainy afternoon wearing sepia slacks with leather 'flip-flop' sandals and a light brown sport coat. i went into a cafe and sat down for a drink, and when i began talking to a man with a small moustache and a thick accent i realized that i was billy squier.
last night i dreamt about a praying mantis that made sounds like rustling paper when it moved.
the music scene here in phoenix is miserable, when cat power is the most interesting booking in months you know something must be wrong.
shitty saturday night goes as follows: i drunkenly amble into the circle k only to find myself in the middle of a racial argument between the indian clerk and some white power douche bag. seconds later, he asks me for some spare change because "we're all white here man". . fight on, brother.
