I'm still waiting

Yesterday I was reminded that I used to deliver pizza once upon a time.

And while it never turned into a porno (although, lemme tell you about working in a hotel someday), I did get tipped with some amazing weed once. I brought it home, took my guitar and Max, my four legged buddy, out to the shed and we got high and wrote awful songs. Max was not great with lyrics.

Also, just know that if you ever order pizza there is a better than even chance that someone fucked on the ingredients used to make your pie. The walk-in cooler serves a different purpose for horny post adolescents who still live at home but want a break from banging in the back seat of their car.

Your pepperoni has touched nipples.

There are times in one's life that are etched into the memory more than other times. Going to Germany to head to Bosnia is one of those periods for me. It has its own soundtrack.

Anyway, one of the bands I played on a constant loop during those six months is supposedly releasing a new record soon.

So, yay! Or whatever. I don't care.

Titty sprinkles!


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