1. Wednesday, March 21, 2007

    sxsw didnt knock me down 

    post office sxsw

    like it did some others. if anything it charged me up. you realize how lazy you are when you see 10 bands in one night, while walking, while drinking, while bearly eating.

    since Lent started i have seemed to have lost about 8 pounds of pure fast food. but im fucking up and drinking regular coke but you only die once so whatevers.

    one of the things that i learned in austin was i can party for 11 hours straight and still write more than most people. the only website that came close to our coverage was pitchfork who had four people. just wait till next year pitchfork. just wait.

    i missed a lot of shows that i shoulda seen, and i shoulda stayed a day later, but on my flight home i got to fly with the hottest chick at e! when i was there. now shes a vj for a website and gets to interview all these bands and hook up with rockstars.

    trust me the voice in my head that i call the devil was going crazy “youre boring her. you have no good stories. you have no good ideas about music. youre so dull. look shes even taller than you.”

    but thanks to sxsw, especially the part where everyone was happy to meet me, namely the interactive part, helped massage the ego of the other voice in my head that i call the angels, and the angels were all, “youre black youre rich and youre well educated.” the angels always love to throw one piece of bs in there to make me feel better, and often times its good to just pretend to be what they say you are.

    we had hours of great conversation and it turns out that shes totally into the grates as much as i am.

    jeanine picked me up and drove me home and there were so many packages waiting for me and it was so weird to be home, it was so weird not to be buzzed, it was so weird to have clean clothes to slip into, food to break into, legs to slip next to, rock to get high to.

    yesterday i wrote that no way could that festival get better, but i was wrong, it totally could get better if you were there next time.

    and then i made a photo essay.

    and then i told the ho to go but the ho didnt wanna go so she pretended to fall asleep and i pretended to fart and she pretended to laugh

    and i pretended to be mad and she pretended to be bad and i pretended to whip that ass with my obey belt and she pretended that it hurt but her erogenous zones were saying something entirely different.

    and then i pretended to be suave and walked over to the jukebox and pretended that i totally didnt have an itunes playlist all set up just incase a teenage runaway was pretending not to love being in my room with its christmas lights twinkling, and then i ate her soul.