My grandfather was couldn’t hear shit, talked with his hands, deaf. Of him I remember very minimal stuff. The way he sounded stands out. Shit was funny. As for things he told me, this is pretty much the only one I remember: “Wash your hands after you play with the iguana or you’ll get salmonellias!” (ed. note, not a typo, that’s how he pronounced it, only more deaf sounding)

So this weekend, you’re gonna have the urge to celebrate your independence (ha). You’re gonna have the urge to get buzzed. You’re gonna have the urge to think that the moment you’re standing in is a special one. You know the type, raise your lighters up when the man on stage tells you to, sing the lyrics to a chach-bag song with a bunch of strangers, dance like nobody is watching you, stare at fireworks like they matter type… It’s your right as an independent grown-ass-mah-fucka to do that. My point is just this, try and make sure that shit is authentic when you’re trickin’ yourself. Think about it before you think about it. That way you might remember some a the important shit, and less of the meaningless.

In van news, Jules had to re-position her xi or some shit last night, so the Van is still a bit naked on her left side. I’m pretty sure that won’t be the case upon our return.

I’m taking my feather-headed-dog and gettin’ up out a dodge for a minute. SoCal media, I need a breath. I had a flip phone this time last year. Now I’m twitting at Lil’ Kim. Chach (who does my linking and anything more technical than ms word) will stand in.

Track of the Day: K-Hole by Silver Jews off of Tanglewood Numbers

Link for the Day: This is probably the nicest thing I’ll give you for a while.

Now go blow shit up, eat a fuckin’ popsicle, and wash your mah-fuckin’ hands.

JV