Been fighting a lot of things, got some physical/mental issues attached that become uncovered as the layers get peeled back, and it's on an island it feels that I sludge through the sludge. Got a viking in my head (literally, and literarily) that I'm scribbling out in bits and pieces, hoping to make something other than slow death happen. Stuck in the bureaucracy, which is more steady employment than not, but at the same time as the american world got all red, white, and blue over staged deaths, I really missed my outlaw side. No long hair, no electronic clutter, no inside lifestyle. But we do what we do, and that's how we do it.
I watched a flick called Heartworn Highways the other week and I had this thing in my head to say as I started to do J.J. Krupert listings again that we all need more kitchen table sit-arounds, cluttered with bottles and ashtrays and people's nervous hands doing this or that. And I was gonna pretend that this was that, at least in the internet form. But that's bullshit. This ain't shit but the this. It never will be anything real no matter how real I try to make it. But I like sharing stupid songs that fill my stupid days with stupid numbers on the other side of the computer screen. So we'll do this, in tiny bits.
FIRST UP: Whiteboy speed rapper from Georgia!
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