WAIT! Stop The Party! Etc!

So, I'm listening to Westwood while I do some website work (gotta be done, sorry), and he's playing this new Busta Rhymes and Swizz Beats joint that's got nothing to do with the Iron Man movie but is being affiliated with it anyway, which is canny enough, and anyway, its another one of those synth/808 joints with military snares and stuff, and Swizz doing that thing where he intones, "Wait! Stop the party! I don't wanna hurt nobody!" huskily. Swizz Beats' husky voice is a thing of strange wonder. ANYWAY. I am pretty sure Swizz beats did this record already, with a different rapper on it. What WAS that? Ish is doing my NUT IN!

Westwood wasn't feeling the Iron Man movie, for the record. "I could have done with more action and less story," said he. "Watching the movie felt like playing an X-Box game." Man, Wolverine was like that. What a load of poop. I loved that first Iron Man movie. I watched it a couple of birthdays back in Wales after we went to Port Meirion, which is where they filmed the old Prisoner. It was shut, actually. ANYWAY! I am still looking forward to going to see this new Iron Man movie on the weekend. Maybe I am DUMB.

Speaking of Westwood, I complained on Twitter the other day that Miss Info's gossip section section had too many plugs for her own website in it. Never let it be said that Miss Info doesn't listen to critics, since this came straight back at me:

And you know what? She's done exactly that. I am impressed. Although I still don't care for gossip.

Rah then. What else is going on? Well, I am about to get into a THIRD DECADE. That's kind of crazy, and lurking at the side of my mind. But like I was saying yesterday, I can't really think about anything much till I get this cotdang mixtape in your earbuds. There's a progress report in that image up top. Everything with a circle to the left of it is FINISHED. That means ALL THE SONGS ARE FINISHED. Now, if I had my way I'd spend a full day at least on ALL OF THEM, but I just do not have that luxury. So now it's just a case of mixing it all together. I got a pretty solid sequence, and I got ALL THE SOUND EFFECTS.

Oh man, I gotta do a sleeve too!



So, I got some (ha!) sleep, and I listened to the noises Birddogg was making up here while I was down in New York, doing whatever it was I was doing in New York. Like, there's some ill stuff. But one in particular is just tremendous. it is mighty. It fills my heart. And prefectly fits so many of the raps I was writing in New York, tempom flow, everything. So, what I've done, is draw various raps, and bits of raps, together, to create this New York song that's been brewing all the time I've been here. It is best I get it out now, before I FORGET. Annoyingly, the necassary component is missing. So piss.

Bad: All the stuff I bought last week - food, drink, socks, weed - is gone. Mostly. I got a lot of Ritz crackers, peanut butter and macaroni. Good: There's a Death's Head Moth on my window. (See right) Bad: There is animal shit by my window. Good: The air outside is fresh and envigorating. Bad: The air in the top level of the house, in which I am supposed to be dwelling, is thick with the stink of animal and of animal excrement.

I went to turn on the sauna earlier, and nearly trod in cat shit. Or dog shit. It could be both. Whatever. It's like, wow, sauna! Oh, catshit. Wow! Oh. Wow! Oh. Etc. So, I wanted to go into town and get a job today, to pay for my ticket back to New York, but waited about for people to come with me rather than just doing it, and the end result is it's super late now, too late to get a job anywhere, and everyone's going into town to go out, save me, who must stay at home cos he has no ID (this is a worry), and it's too far to chance not being allowed in anywhere.

A ha!

So I should write more now. I wrote a bunch earlier. Phil is worrying that Amy has forotten his ass, as she went in her tiny car to take Cecelia and James over an hour ago. But she hasn't forgotten him. It's just miles from ShanGayKen to Woodstoock! A HA!

I just asked Spiky if he has a message for the world. He said, "spitroast!" So there you go.


So I fell alseep on the sofa after 5, and was awakened gently by Super Phil at 6:20, and it transpired Bird left my bag with my passport in it at the venue last night. But Bird's got me another ID card, so we're outside waiting for Jeff to pick us up at 6:30. And at midday we're in LA, and soon after that we're in Interscope's offices,and I'm filling a bag with Nirvana, Guns N Roses, Gilbert And Sullivan, Dre, Peter Gabriel, Police and other such back catalogue. Jimmy Iovine has a signed letter from Tupac and a video console that won't switch on. And loads of ideas. A balcony. A lush view. LA is lush to look at, from these places of advantage. Like, later we visit Jeff and Trent's, and there's this fucking alien cat that loves me, and an incredible, incredible view, of this desolate wilderness spattered with money.

It was a lovely day.

But in the nighttime it is hard not to see that LA is awash with cunts. It is a sad and massive amount of cunts, and I am not sure whether it is sad because this is what the world did to them, or because this is what they do to the world, or because they are cunts, and you can see their faces rotting right in front of your eyes.