monsvalentine

say man, call me back already. lets get this shit going.

triple shot soy latte. every day. like clockwork.

went to austin yesterday for some meetings. had lunch at caf mundi. empanadas. grabbed some beers at lovejoys. that devil painting is a trip. more beers at casino el camino. fucking tired today.

all your journal entries. most intriguing. everyone so different. yet, the same. i have a few favs. your words are fucking brilliant. brilliant.

my old boss called me yesterday. you were right about these bands. no fucking shit. you ass. thats what i do.

too late. im in my own building now. middle finger to the sky.

annie... that shit about the animal crackers. i want that visual on film. damn.

nicolelee offered to teach me ghetto jargon. thanks. my latest stumping ground was: damn, you gonna be the liver out there. liver, huh. ok. liver it is.

picked up the new killers cd yesterday. was looking forward to it. nice retro feel. though, they left off one of the best demos.

my head is a steel trap. nothing gets out. obsessive. compulsive. the details.

i was reading where jeff tweedys (wilco) eight year old son is in a band. the blisters. they cover jet songs. hilarious.

must... go... fix... this... train... wreck... known as... my hangover.

"well somebody told me. you had a boyfriend. who looks like a girlfriend. that i had in february of last year. it's not confidential. i've got potential."

cb