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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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Thursday, August 6   >>

BOMBSHELL

Our singer just quit.

...Via e-mail.

I think?

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But, seriously, who the fuck looks out for individual songwriting credit just weeks into being inducted into a group? For fuck's sake, how hard is it for Angelenos to accept the Radiohead pop ideology of credit? There's no "I" in music.

I mean, there is, literally, but, fuck it, you know what I mean.

Tip: Never, ever, ever, ever, ever have a conversation about royalties, credits and points after 2 bottles of wine have been cracked.

We'll see what happens; meanwhile, I think I'm going to mentally cry for the rest of the night considering that the vision The Tony, The Drew and I have had for the past nearly two years might have just been demolished with a single e-mail.

If you want it to be yours, then write "The Eraser," goddamnit. And don't call me for chords.

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And you know what the sick part is? That, in the off chance this girl leaves, I'm not going to stop. There's a word for this kind of behavior.

Insanity.