Man, I had just written this thing and I decided it would be clever to let my baby guest blog, which, you know, would essentially look like akldjjf;owejp;odjadngaerkghae;, and we’d all have a good laugh, but guess what? He deleted everything. SO, let’s start again. Pretend that you’re just coming onto the page to notice a new update NOW, okay? Okay. Here goes:
HOLY SHIT! It’s like when the Tonight Show broadcasts from an amphitheater in Indianapolis or something. Coming at you live from Cook street in Denver, it’s BSC:Rocky Mountain Profanity Fountain edition! So far, the week’s been great. I solved my label dilemma, I went to a wedding, I am currently hanging out with a pair of babies and my friend Eric just took a pretty leisurely dump. Last night I babysat four, count em, FOUR kids. Then I did some rapping in the back yard. Overall, there’s nothing really on my agenda but drinking coffee, drinking cocktails, doing some chair dips and kind of watching the mountains do, I dunno, whatever the fuck they do…Slowly erode as they provide striking physical evidence of tectonic movement, collect snow on their icy peaks, that kind of shit. You get it, right?
I’m currently in the midst of some stress. This vacation is sort of just what the doctor ordered. When I get back, I’m undertaking a humongous project, and THAT, my friends, is when this here blog is gonna start getting a little more brief and infrequent. SO, I’m gonna go ahead and do my best to get this shit out there while I can, cuz come week 2 of august, I’m fucked, timewise, kids.
Okay, so let’s see. What does Colorado have that Chicago doesn’t, besides mountains? Hippy tolerance. There are disgusting hippies just everywhere singing out of tune versions of “Friend of The Devil” with blood dried into their beards with an unfortunate dog tied to em with a rope. Poor dog. You can almost hear the dog say “yeah, I’m stuck to this smelly turd. Kind of sucks. I’d really be a lot happier just kicking it solo and eating trash, but instead I’m reduced to hanging out in this parking lot while this dildo’s dumb friend’s feed me poptarts and hemp muffins and bug the living shit out of everyone unfortunate enough to have to see us. Sorry. Jesus fucking Christ.” Colorado contains hippys, outdoorsy folks and those leathery, wiry smoker looking people. You know the ones. Super tan, muscular in an unfortunate way, never good looking. You just KNOW they smoke. They’re exactly what I imagine every single person at Headonism looking like. Tattoos on their tits and jean shorts and questionable sunglasses. They’re everywhere too. But it’s the outdoorsy people that really strike me. I guess it makes sense. The outdoors here is nice, real nice. Where I’m from, the outdoors isn’t even available 4 months out of the year, and as a result, we have lots of bars and places to get hot dogs. Here, the hotdogs aren’t that good, but this guy standing in the grocery store just climbed something and biked a ton of miles and now he’s just getting a cliff bar and he’s off to do some other active, outdoorsy bullshit. And he’s wearing nothing but lycra and it’s all sorts of fucked up bright colors and the shorts match the shirt matches the hat. And once again, nice sunglasses. We don’t have too many of those in Chicago either. We have double cheeseburgers and deep fried macaroni and cheese. Which, you know, will also get your heart rate up, so, yeah. We got that going on.
The other thing about Colorado is the hipsters here. I don’t know what it is, if it’s just isolated enough or what, but these kids out here just go for it all at once. It’s like, pink Venetian blind sunglasses, flat brimmed trucker hats, face tattoos, vampire lip piercings, hip hop hoodie that zips all the way over your face, neckerchief, beard, wacky shoes, crusty kid jeans (cut into shorts) with patches and shit everywhere, fitted leather jacket etc. It’s like the last ten years of hot topic best sellers exploded all over the bar scene here. Whatever. I’m having fun. Just pointing out some of the more fun little idiosyncrasies, a la some sort of travel show. Hey, now there’s an idea. Maybe I should have my own travel show. You listening, studio bigwigs? It could be awesome. Like Insomniac meets…uh, well, hmmm…like Insomniac meets…Okay, fine. Just like insomniac, but but BUT!!!!!! I’ll do it in the DAY instead of the night. No? Okay, day AND night. Huh? Huh? That’s what I thought. Draw up the paperwork.
Okay, I’ll try to rap atcha tomorrow.
Peace out, ladies and turds.