"Dear Akira The Don I emailed you today, to put me on the guest list, because you sent out an extra email saying you would because you were drunk and got the price wrong. You didn't answer, so I guess I was late. But I came down anyway. I stood behind the pillar on the left hand side of the stage, and I watched you. I have never seen you before, in real life. You are brighter, somehow. I looked at your forearms for a while, and the veins in them throb, and snake about the place like fat worms. I suppose you like this kind of description, it goes in line with what YOU write, and those writers you steal from with such small regard. I like your forearms. I like your weak chin too. I know you don't, because you never put photos of it in your gigs section, but I've seen them. I don't see why you care. You shouldn't. I think it is hot, and I am not the only one. Shit! You should be above that. When I see you run photos of your weak chin, then I'll know you are telling us the truth. Now I know your ego still runs the thing. That second to last song you played is a masterstroke, because you lay all that down, just so you can get with with it. You are a pussy, Akira The Don. I love you too, because you are a pussy, which means you arent quite yet beyond our reach.
Ho ho, as you say (but I know that you stoke it from HST, just like most of your better sentence-breakers. I forgive you. Do you?)
All my love
PS - Feist cover: Wow. You used to start with Frank, right? Aces. Well done. Akira! Let it die. Please."