i dont know why and i didnt care why. all i knew was i stood up and listened and i shot at where i thought it was coming from and then it stopped and then i sat down.
people looked at me at first like damn, g, and then they thought wait, that guy didnt even care. and nope. i didnt even care. im reading this kurt kobain book and i love it. the guy cant write or tell a story but he sure has the facts.
i didnt know that like 6 people in his family shot themselves or drank themselves to death before he did. im happy and sad to read this. happy because it seems like it wasnt entirely his fault that he did that to himself, that somehow it was heredity and environment.
im sad cuz i miss him and it sucks that hes not the one being nominated for all these awards this year instead of dido.
turns out he didnt sleep under the bridge on the muddy banks of the wishkah. turns out he didnt trade guns for his first guitar, turns out he did trade guns for a sweet amp.
the girls are wearing scarves here in hollywood and longer skirts and tall boots. agent m told me that the xbi pulls the hottest babes in all the town and i look around and i think theres gotta be somewhere better but he assures me that no, its all about the xbi.
after the mad scramble and people slowly peeking from behind their desks someone got up and looked over to the spilling blood and shot the dead body a few more times and one of the bullets bounced off the floor or the skull and shattered a nearby window which i was always under the impression was shatterproof.
and once again i am here to tell you that the man who is willing to offer the lowest price shouldnt always win the bid.