I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.
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Monday, June 1
ALL BY YOURSELF NOW: 'EVERY DAY, EVERY DAY, EVERY DAY, EVERY DAY I WRITE THE BOOOOOOOK / CHAPTAH ONNNNNE'
So, in case you weren't aware, I effing GRADUATED. I didn't know the public university system was willing to give a retard like me a degree, but apparently they do or whatever. Anyway, I got a ton of cash and shit (I smell a new iPod, and crack) at my ultimately kick ass taco-man catered graduAWESOME party, but I also got the strangest gift ever. Sort of.
The Purpose Driven Life (Graduation Edition) by Rick Warren.
One of my uncles and aunts are devout Christians.
But inside there was something else. An envelope.
"YES, RIGHT NOW! HERE, IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!"
Is it cash? I hope it's cash. All this green I've been collecting is going to make for a sweet summer of, well, reduced debt. Another couple Ben Franklins will take me out of the red. Please be cash. Please.
"HOLY SHIT, UNCLE. ELVIS COSTELLO TICKETS!!! FUCK YES!"
I am still genuinely excited. Costello is one of my lyrical heroes.
...What? Where's the other ticket. What the f... there must be another ticket. Think fast. Think fast.
"...THANKS SO MUCH, UNCLE! ...So... you're coming with me, right?"
One ticket? Are you fucking shitting me? One ticket? Surely he must be coming with me.
"Actually no," Uncle said. "Come for the weekend, stay at our house and you and I will have drinks before you see the show."
'Come for the weekend?' Where the hell is the show going to be? Oh m... what the fuck this show is in palm fucking springs.
"...Uh, er, OKAY!"
So watch out, Agua Calientes Casino in Palm Springs -- I'm going to be "that guy."
A graduation present should never involve a 100 mile drive ...by yourself.