That Douchebag Could be your Future Best Friend

You see that douche over there?  The one with a crazy ridiculous haircut, bright pants, or obnoxious shoes?  Yeah.  He could be one of your new best friends, and even more, a friend for life.


The truth is, strong personalities clash.  And they usually clash hard and fast.  Almost immediately you can detect if you 'don't like somebody' and before you know it you're passing judgement on someone that a.) probably doesn't deserve it, and b.) someone you don't even know at all.  You get that feeling from deep in your subconscious, stirred from a moment of foreign familiarity (not unlike deja vu), and you just can't seem to place your finger on why.  That's where the fear/dislike comes from.  People don't like what they don't know or can't comprehend.


So.  Before you blow someone off for being crude or audacious, remember that if they were your friend you'd probably be all about the fun they're having, and you'd be encouraging it.  You never know where your next favorite person can come from. Or how.  


Or they could just be a douche...  Stay crazy my friends.

People in the way

If there's one thing I hate, it's being in the way.  I would expect, with all politeness, other people to feel the same.  Or at least have a similar cognizance physically of where they are and why.

I don't understand why people seem to congregate in the worst places.  I'm talking about doorways, hallways, stairways, walkways, and basically any other kind of '-way'.  They were built specifically for the facilitation of movement and thoroughfare, why the flipping fuck do you think it's appropriate to set up camp blatantly in the course of someone else. Fucking rude.  Then when I try to get by, and either have to force myself between gross bodies of people I don't know or when I even decide to use appropriate etiquette with an 'excuse me,' or a 'pardon me,' I get death stares and under-the-breath comments of my trespassing?  Fuck you, kindly.  If you're still there on my way back you're getting a stiff arm and I'll feel less obliged to apologize for using the force you so passive-aggressively invited.

4am in a DC Diner

People want to know what it takes to be a dj.  People want to know what it takes to be famous.  I’ll tell you what it takes.. what it takes to be ‘awesome,’ what it takes to ‘make shit happen’… It takes courage

It takes bullshit.  It takes longevity.  It takes longevity of bullshit, longevity of the ability to endure bullshit.

It takes the balls to walk halfway through a dangerous city you don’t even fucking know.

I just walked fortyfive minutes through the good and bad of DC to a 24 hour diner.  At 4am.  Pretty motherfucking drunk.

..My agent got into a car accident that disinhibited him from meeting me in time for my DC meetings, so I ended up without a place to stay and without a budget to use.  THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES TO BECOME KNOWN.

A venture into the unknown.  A removal from what you think you know.

This is what it motherfucking takes.  It takes the capacity to meet people. To meet the people that run the 24 hour diners, and the same people that welcome you with friendly smiles and attentive service; at 4am on a Wednesday night in the middle of a quiet Washington DC.

Fuck you in your precious ambition to ‘do what I do,’ on account you see my minor successes. Endure what I endure.  I love my humility but I hate your lack of understanding.  I don’t do this out of a dream; I do this because I know I have the perseverance.. and the taste.  Two major motherfucking attributes rare unto this world.  Get yourself a grip and realize that a small majority of what you hear is talent and the rest is spoonfed propaganda.

Get over yourself.  Get over what you think you know.  Start thinking for yourself and start discovering what musical life is all about:  enjoyment in fun and creativity.  Originality.  Discovery.  The ultimate creation of something new from several somethings old.  Kick your own self in the cuntbox and see what comes of it.

Modern Solitude

Sometimes I won't leave my room or house for nights, and even days on end.  I have this overwhelming feeling that with such direct and immediate access to extraordinary modern information and technology I should be dutifully immersing myself in a constant pursuit and accumulation of knowledge. 

And other times it's because I much rather spend the time alone with my mind, no matter how erratic and disorganized, in order to avoid a depth of contact with the mind-less.