I am a tangent. this is my weird life.
It took me an exceedingly long time to start this blog, due to the fact that the blogger tool was suddenly in Spanish. NUEVA blog! Obviously, Im sitting in a Puerto Rican hotel room twice the size of my Manhattan tenement with Miami decor reminiscent of either a) studies on minimalist art or b) bleached polyester leisure suits.
I just consumed the $9 spicy-sweet nut mix from the minibar, preceded by the $2 Super-Grande Vainilla Batido at Burger King, and the left over cheddar from the photo shoot with the salsa combo. Needless to say, I feel very ill.
The chronology of the last few days initiated on Saturday night dancing to some dirty hiphop in a basement while wearing a fashionable parachute. The progressive thought that, yes, maybe I was a legit homie, peaked the next day during my stormy children-of-men-esque journey to a deserted island hosting a mass concert. I checked in for media. I walked to the media tent. I walked to Cypress Hill's trailer. I left 20 minutes later having been hotboxed by a bongo player named bobo.
And now Im in Puerto Rico after stealing Swizz Beatz escalade (he chuckled about it) from the Rockefeller center to the airport, and getting stuck in traffic thanks to Adam Sandler plopped beneath a tent in midtown. After shooting portraits of EL GRAN COMBO and eating gooey fried bananas, Im exhausted and bathing in my king-sized miami porn bed.
Perhaps Ill watch the horrible music video from a Drew Barrymore movie featuring the unnamed dude I made out with on a Vespa last month.
Maybe ill go find more cheese.