This is what I’ve decided after a night of brushing up on Latino Jesus Pamphlets and staring at a room full of nerdberg dudes, while listening to what I’ve now decided is a sub-par band, and absolutely, ABSOLUTELY not Pavement-esque. Pavement is straight naaaaasty. These dudes were straight whiiiiney. I’ll refrain from saying who they are, they may or may not have played the van. They may or may not have lied to A.’s face when he told them to let the crowd know that their videos may or may not drop in the near future (ed. note, the may not was added later).
Aaaaanyleadsinger’sgottheheroineyesway, the Silverlake lounge was filled with nerdbergs of the highest Dungeons and Dragons type order (and fat chicks)(someone else said that, I see inner beauty type shit). Seriously though, there was not a one in the crowd (unacceptable). OK, maybe there was like one one (in a pinch), but she was with some dude with a mullet type situation (ed. note, dude must have been in a band). I only say this because as an observer of society I enjoy to look at pretty things in unison with odd things. There is no element of shallowness to this (ed. note: there is).
Now although I didn’t enjoy the band, and the crowd was again sub-par, and I again got scolded by a Rubenesque chick, whom I may or may not have hit with a flying object (ed. note: wasn’t aiming for her this time), I still drove away saying to myself that the Jam Van is going to have to start making more pilgrimages out to East Floss Angeles. An area that I’m not unfamiliar with (city on the back palm), but that I can’t really claim to have spent a consistent amount of time in.
So my band of merrymakers and I, we’re gonna start showing up there a bit more. Not because we like it, not because we want to, but because we think y’all might need us over there. A lot of you, well, most I saw this past evening, you’re just actin’ a plain fool. It’s like “Idiot’s Guide to Trying Too Hard” up in there.
So notice has now been written, in house and out of house, all beware, it’s time to forage for believers. If we hit you with a cigarette lighter, or one of those rubber doo-hickies that the kids wear, don’t roll your eyes at us. Smile and be happy that you now have something to light your bottle rockets with. If we yell something obscene at you, well then it was your lucky day. If Jack stares at you with his cross-eye, yeah, you can walk away, that shit is creepy.
Links for the Day:
– Chicken-heads drop em for this dude, not sure I get it.
– The original (aint nothin like the real thing).
– “This is sushi grade tuna, we don’t fuck around.” The realest words in hip-hop right now.
– “Menace Beach” – Shout out to my friends and neighbors from the VSLC Hams and Blue. They are the hard lookin’ mah-fuckas in this here video… Blue, I hope they let you peep your 15 seconds up at that resort where you’re taking some time off…
I think that’s enough to keep you busy for today.