Saturday, September 6, 2008


There's musicians that make music to be famous and get laid.

And there's musicians that make music in order to help everybody in the audience get laid.

Personally, I'm forever indebted to the poet that taught me that the best moment in the world is that moment when a woman first steps her leg out of a car, when all you can see is that flash of leg, and everything else is mystery.

The guy who taught me that Doormen are the Luckiest Bastards in the World.

And the guy that taught me about how great warm mexican asses are, compared to cold white asses that practically give you a heart attack in the middle of the night when you accidentally bump into them with your leg.

That's what really matters, y'know.

Even Doctor Phil knows that, although he could never admit it in front of his particular audience without being torn to shreds.

Poor guy.

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