Today is the final day of what most people would consider the worst month of 2009. If you didn’t notice how much it sucked-
lucky you.
For everyone else September has been a series of viciously uncharitable weeks, roughly four, and those weeks were built from a mean rash of thoroughly wretched days. The days were made up of cruel, gloomy hours, and the hours… you get the picture.
You don’t? Okay. The hours were horrible bastard elves that wept revolting luke-warm minutes, and the minutes were just clusters of cold shit-droplets masquerading as seconds.
I fucking hated September.
As usual, Susan Miller was right. She said it was going to be awful, and it really was. Most everyone I know was on suicide watch. It was that bad, and judging by today’s headlines- September is sinking the boots before it flees the scene.
But today is September’s last day, and if you have any sense you’ll stay in your foxhole till tomorrow. Personally, I have to get out there and run ‘errands’…
But before I do that I want to show you this video of my favorite journo- Evan Wright- reading from his latest book- Hella Nation. He’s an excellent reporter and I hope to one day be his friend. Perhaps we’ll be the type of friends that meet once a week for dinner and sophisticated conversation at The Waverly Inn. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be the type of friends that go hunting and accidently shoot a farmer. Maybe we’ll burry the farmer in a shallow grave and then drive home like nothing happened. Maybe someone’s fucking dog will dig the body up a couple of weeks later and I’ll receive a visit from some homicide detectives. If that happens I’ll probably rat Evan out immediately because I’m a no good double-crossing Judas.
I seriously dig his writing though, and I’m not kidding about the ‘friend part’. Call me, Evan.

Is this crazy? Are we being crazy? What if we said that 1st Prize is a Toyota Prius? Would that be crazy? No. It’d just be a lie.
1st Prize for the bestest homemade water-pipe is dinner with myself and esteemed journalist Evan Wright at The Waverly Inn. Perhaps Graydon Carter will join us… Perhaps he’ll bring Bono with him… Maybe we’ll all go back to Harvey Weinstein’s house and do blow… Maybe someone’ll spring for hookers… Maybe we’ll accidently shoot one…
Send your entries to Chris on the ‘contact’ page. Photo entries only. Don’t send drug paraphernalia to us through the mail.

Ihateyoungpeople.com ? Harsh. Pretty funny though…

This promises to be one of the best cheer-fests of all time. All the best bits! Can you imagine? Get your tickets as fast as possible.
I reckon they’ll sell pretty quick. Oh man, what am I gonna wear? The sneakers, jeans, t-shirt combo probably. Or my denim tuxedo, cowboy shoes and alluring testicle-in-the-breeze look. Either way, this will be a night to remember.

That’s it for today. See you at Bumrocks’ gig tonite. Perhaps I’ll buy you a drink. Perhaps you’ll buy me one in return… Maybe I’ll tell you about what I was like as a kid…. Maybe you’ll talk about your roommate… Maybe we’ll go get a slice afterwards… Perhaps we’ll split a cab home… Maybe I’ll get out without offering to pay my part of the fare… Perhaps you’ll find an umbrella…

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