I am not going to write about Mr Wong right now, so I don't know why I've alluded to him so heavily in this titling. But whatever. Perhaps he informs my spirit right now. The songs about love are now gone. One or two might return at some point. Otherwise, if you missed it, you'll just have to hope I get Beatles Big, and have an Anthology in the years to come.
Yesterday, I didn't do anything musically productive, for the first time in ages. I did some shopping, ate some food, and played computer games. Serious! I kicked Hiyatchi's ass, my friends, the old git, I whupped that old fool serious. Zef is good at avoiding things on Ultimate Spider-Man (the most beautiful thing I have seen in ages), and Michael is very good at landing on Rhino's back. So there you go.
Today I have been assembling mixtapes (I am making three right now), bootlegging Oasis and Biggie, and appeasing my old landlord. Zef is working on my album sleeve, and Michael is acquiring Tekken characters. I met a lovely girl in Woolies.
There is a lot of rottenness going on, but I haven't the heart to go into it today. Jeff Wells has done a great job, as ever, so go see him. That dude Cheney shot has a pellet in his liver, you know.