dr_ama

back to Cali, back to work. New York was fucking great. now it's nose to the grindstone, head to the stars.

i have a secret desire to join the Suicide Boyz. gotta find me a photographer.

flying back across the country sunday, one of the bumpiest plane rides i've ever experienced, at least in a normal size jet. outside of a tiny two-prop fifteen-seater i once took from portland to boston, and thought death and destruction the entire time. this ride, i ordered a double scotch and slept through much of it, stirring to the arid terrariums of texas, and later...
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i don't actually know how any of this works. or if i am supposed to work it. it is confusing me a little.

maybe it's best to go back to spending my precious internet time searching for music not made by TOTAL FUCKING WHORES that is boys in black eyelines getting their asses spanked by the music industry.

hmm.