Little details from your day

3022
Riding on the F train home today, a large man in a Wu-Tang shirt got up and started selling The Wu-Tang Manual.

His pitch, as I remember it:

"Do you know about the Wu-Tang? The Wu-Tang are the greatest force in music today! The RZA is the musical genius of the Wu-Tang! This is the Wu-Tang manual! Only $20! You will be lucky if you can find it in your local Barnes & Noble! It's by the RZA!"

It was a beautiful, absurd moment.
I make music/I also make pretty pictures

Little details from your day

3025
Someone took my mapcase from my car.

I hope they enjoy Excellent Italian Greyhound.

I hope they make good use of the library books; and all
of those maps (You didn't get the good one, asshole!).

I hope they get top dollar for the old clipboard and the mostly
empty pen.

Mostly, though, I hope that the Roger Miller autographed
copy of Obliterati , somehow...someway...detonates,
with the force of a handgrenade, in their face.
King of the Punk Rogers.
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Little details from your day

3026
I went to a family party last night. My family is large and I don't know or speak to most of them.

I stood at the bar behind one of my cousins. He recognised me and we started chatting. Or rather he did, I just pretended to listen. If I can't hear what someone's saying in a pub I just nod like I understand since usually they're just drunk and waffling on. I caught something about him selling drugs but have no idea what he said after that.

Then he offered to buy me a drink. I said it's ok and he replied "Nah, I can't not buy you a drink after I just told you about that 500 quid yesterday". He insisted on getting me and him a double so I felt obliged to stand and speak to him for a while.

The subject of getting paid for a gig came up and he paused while he struggled for an analogy. Eventually he came up with one that involved him selling drugs to someone for a discount because at least he's making money. How strange it must be to judge all monetary matters by the standards of drug dealing.

Later, I went out for a fag (stupid cocking smoking ban) and he told me about his brother just getting sentenced to 14 years in prison. Meanwhile another cousin I don't know put his arm round my shoulder as he spoke to someone else. For about 10 minutes I sat with a stranger cradling me. I know he's my cousin but I don't know this man!

If I were more sociable I would have stayed all night and met more relatives and would surely have dozens more details to share but I got out of there at the first opportunity. Shame.
simmo wrote:Someone make my carrot and grapefruits smoke. Please.

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