In Miami, it can get real cold indoors so you have to go outside. This morning I was kind of cold when I woke up, so I went outside and the road burned my feet, despite it being a bit overcast. Birddogg is here, and we bought Gatorade and hooked up with Wade and went to the beach and bought pornographic towels (tits, US flag) and patriotic shorts.
Then we came here and I am annoyed to see that there have been no updates on akirathedon,.com, despite me having bust my ass to get to a god damned internet cafe every day since I've been here. Maybe my email isn't working - in which case I am typing into the wind here, but maybe the souls of dead PC's are reading, in which case, I salute you, dead dispersed digital brethren.
Yesterday was wicked, despite us managing to not play a potential 3 shows. That incredibly posh Delano place fucked up when some geek caught me and the Dogg skinning up outside, and told the manager, who told us he was "totally pissed", and that we were meant to be "representing the hotel". He then had a go at Wade and said we couldn't play. So Wade and Bird DJed stuff off the mix tapes and played lots of Akira The Don and I rapped at people without a mike, and they loved it hard.
Got invited onto a spoken word bill after a random street encounter, which ended up with me busting a freestyle at this place called the Butterfly something's bosses. That shit was tight, and I got to hear a proper American club owning accent bark, "get my man a drink, whatever he wants." We were supposed to come back and do some shit at 12, but we didn't make it till 1. Missed Rokbar too, but that was a bit wack to be honest. Gonna go back there and mash it tonight, after this Jane magazine ting at Mynt, which we passed last night. Ten ton of silicone was pouring out the door at 2am, so we shall see what the fuck is up tonight.
I met an alleged Vietnam vet, begging. "One Hundred Percent US Fucking MARINE!" he screamed, in that way they do in the movies. I gave him a dollar. I have 35 cents today. Plus I met another guy, a moustachieoed, steak reared, wifebeaterclad middle aged crazy from Texas, who rode 30 hours on a bus with no air con, and was sleeping on the beach. "I'm turning my life around," he said. "Tomorrow I'll walk down the strip and get a job. Any man can get a job if he wants in this county, if he has a trade. I can buid things, with my hands." Me and the Dog shared a spliff with our man, and he told us that he wasn't worried about being robbed on the beach, because he had nothing of value. "Just the good book," he said. "Yessir. I've never read it before, but I have been trying now, and it's starting to make sense to me at last."
In New York they say there is a bidding war of some kind going on. Down here there are different wars, but that is the way of the world. I discovered my matches had a crude picture of Baby George Bush on them , under which was emblazoned the message, "2001 - 2005", which is a little presumptuous, I thought. Regan still occupies the front covers, and so does Pappa Bush, who is soldiering on with his 80th birthday gala regardless. John Kerry seems more foolish by the second. Wesley Wesley Wesley. He likes Outkast, you know.