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Last night, I dreamt that Cleo had writing printed on her butthole and I was chasing her around the apartment to read it.

I think it was some sort of profound fortune cookie text on there.

(seriously)

Crack Spits

Crack spits

Wannabe knuckle belt whips

Fucking bananas and badodos

And their mittens and

Funny disposition

I want to be like the clan men

Dressed up in crust and shit

With the feces on the wall

Clowns all up in the hall 🤡 

Can’t find my elbows

Walking alone on Main Street

Singing bout fair god go go go shits

Watermelon juice squeezed from my

Perky nipples

Watch the sandy jungle women

Eat their shitty Apple juices

Buzzing wit’ formaldehyde

Bubbling wit’ the Bihar nazis

Watch me inch my way to the

Spoon canister

Skittles and raisins be damned

Clams getting rammed

In their little clam buttholes

With the stick of Jesus

The only stick to ever

Write a very good musical

Yesterday morning’s four hour recording session went well. I got the 12-string take for Song Five — likely the first material for Album Four that I will actually be keeping.

I am very happy with it, at the moment, and am looking forward to building the song out next weekend.

I’m going to switch to the 12-string for all of the acoustic songs on the record. I’ve been struggling with the Martin sounding thin as the lead instrument on these songs. Just picked up the 12-string and tried playing a few of the songs and it’s so much better.

I recorded basically nothing this weekend.