x-x-x-x-x. Jersey City

Twenty/October/Six


Aaaah. Know the feeling? Bought the biggest fuckin’ sweet potato today on the side of the road here in Mississippi (four eyes), out the back of a pick-up truck, from a 6.5’ fat black dude with a beard. I think it was in the early seventies, at least in South Africa (Stephen Biko), that blacks decided they wanted to consider themselves blacks, as opposed to natives, africans, non-whites, or a number of other things. This potato is like half the size of a football. Fuckin’ ridiculous.

Aaaah. Know the feeling? Bought the biggest fuckin’ sweet potato today on the side of the road here in Mississippi (four eyes), out the back of a pick-up truck, from a 6.5’ fat black dude with a beard. I think it was in the early seventies, at least in South Africa (Stephen Biko), that blacks decided they wanted to consider themselves blacks, as opposed to natives, africans, non-whites, or a number of other things. This potato is like half the size of a football. Fuckin’ ridiculous.

So we’re in a coffee shop in Oxford, MS. Internet connection here sucks. Dirt. Can’t send emails. Can hardly work. Good excuse to write out some stress. Booking ourselves. Pimping our sore asses. Send fifty email and get five back. Sales. ‘M a fuckin’ salesman. In two hours we’ll be workin’ for the love and attention of a bar full of students and ex-students in one of the more conservative little college towns in the country. Very sports oriented. Ever hear of Ole Miss? Yea. And we’ll be doin’ our shit hard. Can’t show any fuckin’ weakness ‘cause most of these people have never seen “music” like this before. Karaoke? And if it’s a good show, they’ll be dancin’, drunk and buying enough shit that we can keep our phones on and the creditors off our backs. Yea, we’re back in debt. Deep by some standards, but whatever. Kid sitting next to us working on his Quantum Mechanics paper opened up for us in Lafayette a few years ago. Still tries to do a little music.

When do you abandon hope for a given date and take a shitty gig? I think we say 6 weeks. Do the math. Fuck LA. No we love LA. What the hell is LA? and New York. Chicago, Detroit. Atlanta. Big time. Tough motherfuckers. Paris, Berlin. One minute you’re the closest thing to the Truth and the next you’re just a weird, embarrassing, ego tripper. Any rhyme or reason? You supposed to sing in tune? Sound nice? Be sexy?

Sugared up, stressing and still confused. You?

Rdrdrdrdrdrdr. Mike iLL |

20/10/2006

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