NPC Shit, Looking Forward

A co-worker told me my spirit animal is a unicorn. I tell younger people "the world is your oyster" but really the world is my oyster. At 40 I'm fit, I'm making money, I have all of my teeth... 24 years of playing punk rock, making chicks cum, pulling out, living the dream. Is this all there is?

I had a funny conversation with my friend a while ago, she told me not to buy a house because it's a project. Idle hands do the devil's work. What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I don't have any desire to be a parent. I'm an eternal twenty something, flirting with a realm where I do not belong. I hope I have a heart attack and die the next time a chick in her twenties decides to aggressively climb me like a tree and jump my old bones.

My next album is going to be suburban life through my cracked lens. Underneath all the "what would the neighbors think?" is the guy like me, an evil hung genie... some dude paid me to bang his wife while he watched. The suburbs are more like American Beauty and Blue Velvet than you'd think they are. There's people who are like Leave It To Beaver as well, but they're few and far between.

I started using a taller canvas. I don't know why exactly.