01.16
Being that I am a comedian I have a “Comedy” account designation on my MySpace account. Being that I am a complete dong I have over 1,000 MySpace friends. At least several hundred of whom I have never met, communicated with or am even sure are people who actually exist.
Being that I am so well-befriended I get a least two or three requests for new friends every couple of days. It’s usually from other struggling comedians who I have never met or from friends of friends who are also collecting an ersatz cyber-entourage with whom they too will never meet or communicate but may masturbate to on occasion.
Yesterday I received a friend request from a band called Moss Bluff. After taking a peek at their profile page I learned that they were a Los Angeles based, three-person, experimental reggae band. There are few things that I hate more than reggae music, but without exception I can say that I hate reggae bands comprised mostly of white dudes from Santa Barbara even more.
So I accepted the friend request from Moss Bluff. And then I left this comment on their page:
“Sweet Christ, do I hate reggae.”
Direct. Simple. To the point.
About fifteen minutes later I received this MySpace message from Travis Knight (songwriter, basses+) a member of Moss Bluff:
Subject: smart ass
hi dan bylack.
did you get kicked in the cunt or something? thanks for the blasphemic hate comment on my music.
peace,
travis
I immediately sent Travis a very nice message back apologizing if I hurt his feelings and wishing him the best of luck with his band. Then I posted this comment onto the Moss Bluff MySpace page to make up for my previous offensive statement:
Sorry about my previous comment. I meant to write:
Sweet Christ, do I hate reggae. But, boy, do I love Moss Bluff. Their music is so powerful that it has overcome my deep-seated hatred for shiftless patchouli-drenched white dudes with dreadlocks.
When I’m not busy getting kicked in the cunt or making blasphemic [sic] hate comments about other people’s music I listen to them constantly.
I’ve also made out with Travis, twice. And let me just say this – jokes aside, his penis tastes like a grape popsicle.
Thanks for all the sweet tunes, guys. See you soon in a drum/hacky sack circle near you. Peace.
It lasted all of 12 minutes on their page before it was deleted. I’ve yet to hear from Travis or the rest of the Moss Bluff crew. And, again, I wish them the best of luck.
But, Sweet Christ, do I hate reggae.
Today I was just sitting there minding my own business, the only customer in the sushi restaurant down the street from my house. And then just as I was paying my check a huge grease fire broke out in the kitchen. The cook, the sushi chef, the hostess, the waitress and the lady who owns the joint were all running around yelling and going insane. It was awesome.