1. Friday, August 29, 2003

    sometimes when im flying above southern california and i look down on all the swimming pools 

    and i see all the people who dont have to work or i see their big houses or i see their fancy cars or i see their pretty wives or girlfriends i think, wow, i wouldnt mind being that guy.

    last night of all the people in the world i thought, wow, i wouldnt mind being jay-z for a little while.

    so talented, so tall, so lucky.

    i wonder what it might be like to have beyonce as your girlfriend.

    heres someone whose parents molded to be a great singer and dancer and sweet woman, and all she needed was a great songwriter and producer to elevate her into the can’t-touch-this level of superdooper stardom.

    if i was jay-z i would wear more hats though.

    and i wouldnt stop rapping.

    and i would buy big fake lenny kravitz afro wigs.

    and i would get big gold chains with the letter Z dangling from them.

    and of course i would produce the next ac/dc record.

    but mostly i would hang out with beyonce a lot and tell her that i didnt think that she was ready for my jelly and i would play with the flab around my belly button and watch her shimmy across the room and prove me wrong.

    and aftwards, at night, with the window open and the nightingales whistling to the moon i would whisper new tunes into her half asleep ears

    and human beatbox for the beat

    and tap her palm

    and fall asleep.