|
|
Depressed, lonely, nauseous and filled with a vague sense of impending doom, only not in a cool way. And I'm supposed to be going to see my mate's death metal band in two hours and I can't not go because I promised and I really want to see them anyway but Jesus, couldn't it be a different night?
I suppose the thing is to ask yourself, honestly, what Mike from The Swans might say, if you met him. I think about this almost all of the time
'Hi, Mike'
'Hello, you worm'
'Ok. Well, Mike, some people have asked, over the years ...'
'Can I stop you there, you pathetic excuse for a human being?'
'Well, all right, but why?'
'My name is Michael. It is not Mike.'
'Ok. Well anyway, when I'm listening to 'Raping A Slave' in the car on the way into ...
'Can I stop you there?'
'I guess ... No of course you can ...'
'Michael. Yes. You have a) a car and b) a drug habit'
'No one's supposed to know about that.'
'Be advised, small man that my pitiless gaze applies doubly to those who have bought my records!'
'But Mike ... Michael, I could lose my job if you carry on like this. Must you destroy me?'
'You've heard the albums - what do you think?'
'Oh dear.'
'Yes. Oh dear.'
'All right. Well anyway, could you possibly see your way towards autographing my daughter's copy of 'Raping A Slave'?
Pause
'Sghe likes that does she |
|
|