x-x-x-x-x. Politics of Sex, Noise and Depression


| | | — | | Almost got arrested last night while wheat-pasting fliers for the CBGBs show next Saturday. By a Port Authority cop non-the-less. They’re the worst. Ever since I was a kid, nothin’ better to do than detain your ass. This guy saw us putting a poster up and was actually somewhat cool about it. “You wanna take that down or you wanna go ta jail? Got any more up around here? Well, if I see anymore, I took down your license and you’ll be hearing from me.” Hopefully we won’t be hearing from him. Every time I do that shit I hope it’s the last time. Guerilla marketing. Spending the night in jail ain’t no fun proposition, yo. Good place to start smoking again. Mad Happy CDs are flying out of the stores like lead butterflies. Ha ha. That’s what you get for not joining a style. Hey, we didn’t make the world. We did end up going to Lexington with some money from the record company. Forteen hundred miles there and back in three days. Played a good set at a wak show. There was a cool band playing which was like, one of those hip-hop/jam bands. Chuck D style rapping. Very political. Seemed cool. What were they called…? Hopefully we’l find ‘em again. Ten Thousand Blessings. mike |