I leave for Las Vegas at 8 or 10 PM tomorrow. Need to check that, need to put things in a bag before shutting my eyes tonight-- toothbrush, costume, valium. What costume? I've left too little time to prepare and don't even know what to expect. Strippers, yeyo, machine guns, speedos-- all these things are on the agenda, but whether theoretically or actually fun remains to be seen. I don't even know if I'm supposed to be talking about this. Secret parties always confounding to me; surprise more stressful than joyful.
Sasha on point as usual, 808 burns... perhaps this the stance I should adopt heading into this bacchanal. "With my blue steel and cold gat / this n*gga hold that / no n*gga hold this, the coldest / my nuts be the swollest / me & my middle finger much control this"
(it loses something in the telling)
I have to demo tomorrow afternoon, then leave right after, fly in to meet my parents in the evening. Whenever people hear I grew up in Las Vegas, they always say "that must have been interesting." I've never come up with a good response; I usually parry by mentioning how more Mormons live in Nevada than anywhere outside of Utah. I went to a prom with a mormon girl named Debbie. I didn't get to 1st base. I didn't even get to 0th base.
Katherine makes a mean chocolate cake, pulling me under