I woke up and found a burrito in my purse this morning. That was pretty gnar. I put a lot of shit in my purse, but I try to keep Mexican food out of it.

I guess News & Review published my letter. I only know because someone at goth club was telling (drunkenly screaming on dance floor) me about it. I'm not even sure who he was or how he knows my name and occupation. They (the newspaper) had done a cover story on record store clerks. They interviewed all these douches, and I wasn't a one of them. How dare you take my one shot at fame away from me, local free publication. I guess it's because I don't have Bettie Page bangs. Goddamit, I knew that would be my downfall someday.

Fuckin A. Work now. I guess I should drink some water and eat that burrito.