In Which They Played The Same Song 9 Times In A Row...

"Niggas In Paris." One of two things happened after Jay and Kanye walked off the stage last night in Los Angeles. Either they slapped hands and fell to the ground laughing, Jay paying Kanye 1 million cash on the bet he lost, Kanye saying, "I told you those motherfuckers would still be singing the 9th time around - I'M DONE the world has gone dumb as shit." OR they immediately dipped their dicks in Cristal and started talking about how legendary they are, going city to city, outdoing themselves by playing the same fucking song that samples quotes from fucking Blades Of Glory over and over and over again. 9 times. Love them both, really do, but I would fearfully bet on the latter. 90% of this album just felt like a stunt. This is me rooting for someone to knock them down. This is me absorbing the reality that MBDTF is as good as either of them will ever be. But that's okay. Epic is a brutal act to follow.

The Karlie Kloss Show...

Not That There's A Problem Here, But...

In my experience, when you're about to go hard as a motherfucker, you don't talk about it.

Agra & Jaipur...

This morning after trying to sleep off a night of not sleeping on a train, I was out walking and turned down a street of this blue city Jodhpur. There was a line of people sitting along curbs, waiting for some school or some thing or some Thursday to get out. I heard two men loading spit from the back of their throats before they spit, before that spit landed right at the base of my foot, one, then another. I smiled and kept moving, thinking of what their expression meant for them, thinking of how it made them feel to demonstrate themselves like that before wondering if it was all a coincidence before wondering if I really do believe the entire world revolves around me.

I Didn't Ask For This Orgy...

Love Sundays, really do. Even though since the beginning of my time, they've owned me, taken me apart. Something about the mail shutting down or the world slowing or the "calm" or "day of rest" that I can't handle, that I've never been able to put a finger on.

All week, I've been feeling pains in my neck, in front of my ears, on the sides of my head - swollen and battling glands, everywhere, leading me to believe I'm entering initial stages of a bout with a head tumor/brain cancer/a finally fatal ego. All week, I've been imagining my ultimate diagnosis - 3 years to live...that all of my ailments will be internal, no pain...that there's nothing to be done but live it out. They'll name the disease after me and I'll go out a legend. Fucking legend. I'm no hypochondriac, but internet research is fucking scary. Fucking scary.

Sundays...

Because I teach pedaling on a stationary bike in a dark room on Monday morning and Tuesday night...and also this week Thursday and Sunday, I have to put together playlists. Sometimes it takes a half hour, sometimes a couple hours -- all depending on how fresh I need to make it. This week needs to be fresh, so it's taking a while. And while it was taking a while, these guys arrived, one after the other...



Because for some odd reason, everyone is releasing on Monday November 24th. And by Monday, I mean Sunday at 10pm, and I'm minding my own shit when I-Tunes tells me I'm downloading something like 40 items (yes, pre-ordered from I-Tunes -- broke but proud). And it's too much to deal with on a Sunday. Too, too much -- or so was my first thought.

And even though Coldplay does some silly shit like throw Jay-Z a verse on Lost, in what is essentially a remix (like Killers' Sawdust) - first impression says it still kinda works -- the half-album, not necessarily the song. And even though The Killers/Mr. Flowers are again jumping into a new direction or stratosphere, I'm game to follow. And Kanye's too smart to unravel. It's a lot, but together, and combined with the lot that's already kicking around on this Sunday...

Seriously, I'm so far gone, everything's grand.