The Wu-Tangxperiment is finally over you guys! I didn't really think anything happened except you know, like, being angrier and stuff, but the weirdest thing happened this morning when I woke up.
Let me preface this by saying that I NEVER fall asleep in clothes. The last time I passed out in clothing that was not pajamas was also the last time I drank whiskey (it makes me tired), on Walker's 21st birthday, almost a year ago. That night alone qualified as a "bender." The sausage fest and I (seriously, am I the only girl you guys know?) had dinner at Yamashiro in the hills and when I say "dinner" I mean there was a bottle of Jameson circulating under the table. After sufficiently upsetting all the other patrons, we headed to Tiny's. Still, to this day, Tiny's is my favorite bar. It's small, filthy as sin and the jukebox is full of Black Sabbath and Slayer. Fuck yeah. To make a long story short(er), seven vodka redbulls later I was hiding from a really hot guy that asked me to do coke in the bathroom with him, chain smoking American Spirits in the photo booth and shrieking at Fitz that I was "too drunk to move." We had all gotten a hotel room somewhere on Highland (I think it was before Franklin?), so we could keep partying without pissing the neighbors off but I was done for and stomped back (easily13 blocks, it's kind of hard to tell because Highland stops having blocks and turns into bullshit right quick) only to pass out on my back (go figure), sequins and all. After about an hour I woke up, promptly called Adam Scott to scream at him for leaving me passed out on my back and thus susceptible to a John Bonham. He said he wanted to get to In-N-Out before they closed. Fair enough, I suppose. GOOD THING I DIDN'T DIE, ADAMSCOTT!
Oh man, I've been in VH1 Storytellers mode recently. Back to the real story...
I woke up in this pair of jeans that read "Apple Bottoms." Weird. I haven't worn anything besides black skinny jeans for probably two years, save for that one pathetic pair of slight bootcut Citizens. I was sweating like nobody's business and realized I was wearing wedge boots adorned with fur. Half my hair was in tiny braids and I found what looked like barbie hair with clips sewn on clipped onto the back of my head. I had these outrageously long acrylic fingernails with some strange design on them, it appeared to be...zebra print? Was I going to fully "turn" if I had another day left to go? Would there be any turning back?
I'm glad to be back from whatever Wu-Tang werewolf shit was going on there. What was the first song I listened to this morning? Lilly White, by Rocky Votolato. Yeah, I'm a total pussy. I could've gotten out of bed and slid around in my socks, Risky Business style to "Number of the Beast," but no. I go for a whiskey drinking sad guy with a guitar. Not as bad a trying to put the moves on a lady to Joanna Newsom. That shit don't work, probably because she SUCKS. Okay, playing the harp is kind of cool but her voice is a cross between an old asian woman and a child. Like if Bjork gargled a bunch of battery acid and turned eight. There are times you can tell she could have a normal, maybe even pretty voice. Why would you intentionally sing like that? It's not cute, there is nothing redeeming. OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE WHY DO PEOPLE THINK THIS SHIT IS COOL?
Back to stuff that I like, this is a video of Rocky playing at the Casbah, with a band. I've seen him with a band once and twice solo. I like the band better.
"Portland is Leaving:"
This is a video of him solo, doing a song that is kind of...solo. "Mixtapes/Cellmates:"
There is another video from the Casbah that you can hear Jenny K. and I yelling in but it is embarrassing as shit so I'm not posting it.
keepin' it real,