angular sweatbox supreme
of course, i love to wait around in the "wait to shit" line that seems to take place here at this office.
it becomes a problem when there is ONE fucking stall for an entire 4-story building.
so every time you go in there, it's a crapshoot, so to speak.
and of course, you have to walk past everybody, so like everybody sees you and where you're going, so when you arrive back so damn quickly, you either were just blowing your nose, wanting some blow up your nose, deciding that wank-off isn't gonna fly, or you have a problem using the toilet.
whatever the case, it has to fucking end.
maybe i could install an outhouse close to here. wouldn't that be something??
FUCK! i just went up for the fourth time and i was once again denied. nothing worse than this.
ok, i have to learn to either do it right when i come in or wait till the afternoon. yeah, good luck with that one. maybe there's another bathroom on another floor. so lame, one stall.
so i managed to go through part of my set from saturday night. sounds pretty good for the most part, definitely more on the breakbeat, nu-jazz kinda vibe.
which is what i seem to be playing and listening to anyway.
My favorite moment of the night belong to Mr. Cheb I Sabbah, this tiny little guy (who was much much different than i pictured. i was thinking a tall and skinny Middle Eastern guy. instead he was older than i imagined, wearing some puffy hat) with glasses and kind of a weary vibe about him.
he goes on and immediately, he cranks up the volume. which is fine, but hello, this is a CHILL Room, and people need to be able to talk above the din.
that's part of the point.
without the chillness of the chill room, the point of it ceases to exist.
anyway, a woman had already come up and told him to turn the volume down a little bit. then this bald dude comes up and is asking cheb i to turn it down a little bit, though he added that he really liked what he was playing. when he leaned in to tell cheb i this, cheb i first feigned ignorance, like he couldn't hear what he was saying.
then, when the guy leaned in closer, ol' Cheb I freaked out and waved him away. then he shut the music off and was pointing at the bald guy, saying it was his problem for the reason the music was off. talk to him. and then wanted security.
the guy was like, look, i like what you're playing but this is a chill space...it's a little loud.
cheb I wasn't having any of that and said "ah, don't give me any of that shit."
so meanwhile seanO was going to get security for god knows what reason and here we all are, staring at this little dude who is freaking out.
then he leans over to me and asks if it's too loud. i tell him, yes, you could probably turn it down a little bit.
but he still didn't do anything.
what a fucking crybaby.
give me a break. it's a fucking benefit.
at least i got a cool t-shirt out of the deal, with my name prominently displayed.
now Jay T. needs some cool outerwear of his own and the world will be a better place.
love your mother.
leave the stones at home.
just a stone's throw away.
and what the fuck happened to the rolls et all clan on sunday? it went from being a surething on the weekend to being a nonthing.
he's been doing a lot of blowing off lately.
it's all messed up, isn't it?
i'm so fucking stuffed up right now. sucks.
we ate the biggest meal yesterday. went and spent big bucks to purchase some damn fine meats and related gear and cooked our shit out on the grill.
sure enough, the grill was still sitting there this morning when i left for work.
ha ha ha.
ha ha ha ha.
six feet under isn't as good this season. i'm becoming increasingly disenchanted with the whole thing. just becoming another whatever show.
yep yep yep.
groove on minister farrakhan.
and stay out of the middle east. them's fightin' words.
ok, i'm going to try the bathroom (i.e. the LOO) yet again.
wish me luck, mr. man.