its valentines day. send me your nudes

i think it is an excellent idea.

Currently…
Primary: 6:18 - WAKE UP end scene from Spike’s School Daze
Snooze: 6:41 - “Late” Kanye West (get it? cute, right?)

Secondary: 7:30 - “Everybody Rise” Busta Rhymes

I’m definitely going to do ”Fight The Power” by Public Enemy, too, just to fuck with the roommate. He doesn’t like hip hop, but the guy is so damn non-confrontational about it. So I’ve decided to be a cool roomate and stick to my headphones, and blast my shit when he’s out. I really hate is stupid metal shit and the most hickish country…but I don’t say shit. I just leave.

But playing Mos’ “Mr. Nigga” the second week in was one of the best moments of my life.

And since this dude thinks he can say niggerfaggot with his close associates and friends (with his nigger roomate present), I could really give a fuck less about this dude at this point. 

I mean, he likes me. Nice dude. We are cool and everything, but shit like that really makes me give oodles of fucks less about a person. really doe.  Just going to be a decent roommate, get the shit over with.

My dad said he used to blast Marley’s “Bad Card” in his office whenever he got shit. I like that. So passive-aggressive is the way to do it up here in the midwest? Cool. Lemme be mad passive aggressive with my sound. ‘Cause that’s where it ends lol. I play it straight.

So this here is my excuse to blast my music, for only twenty seconds each morning. And early. I love waking up early.

Just as someone that hates people in general, I now see I really hate all you wonderful drunk people. Its just impossible for me to get you down. Enjoy yourself, I don’t want to get in your way by complaining that your are in my way. Its a goddamn bar. I shouldn’t complain, I should just get the fuck out myself. 

Just tonight though…to those folk I ran into tonight, at the Wailers gig…of course they were white…

Oh my god I do not want to know your name. What I just told you? Not my real name. You can’t hear shit now, and even if you could, you would say that shit wrong.

Oh my god we are not having such a good time. I am. Was.

You can’t dance sober, so why they hell do you insist on drunking…I thought there was no way you could dance any worse from when the doors opened. 

I mean, what the hell are you doing? You’re just moving. Just moving. Your limbs and your hands and your feet. Its the most illogical, random…the music is over here, man. Where the fuck are you? Just bob, man. That’s fine, too. And just look at your square footage dude. Shrink it. 

No I don’t want to hear the opening band do a shitty punk rendition of an irish drinking song this is not what I need right now. 

The primary reason why I want to be a performer is not to reach one of my long life goals or make my dreams come true- I need to be up on stage, for my safety, man. Get up on stage, get folk to buy up the bar, finish my set, pick up a nice girl, get the fuck out of the club. Get me away from these folk. 

Thank god I’m up in Nebraska, cause these midwestern folk do have some sense of decorum.

I am one miserable prick though, aren’t I. 

Funny how things are…

I didn’t like the kid. He may have liked me, but I had no interest in being friends with him.

So now I am the biggest asshole on the planet. Because I just sent him a request, just to say thank you. 

Should’ve shot that kid a message instead.

I tend not to get along with types that praise Ron Paul.

Oh well. Fuck people. Even though people can be really kind to you for no reason.

I am horrible with making friends. Because I simply don’t care for people.

And at the most inconvenient time, too.

Should be texting sweet flirty nothings to Pretty Girl I Hung With The Other Day right now

my loins

ah my loins

Not going to see anything from me.

Exams. 

What the fuck are you doing on here.