Things got a little out of control last night in Greenpoint. My assistant Thomas finally got some competent musicians to assist me in my transformation into an international rock genius. The art world is tanking, and I need a way out.
Thankfully, classicfuneralparlorpunkrock is going to shatter the foundations of contemporary music and save me from the art world. I can't take anymore of this shit. We were working on I Met You in Miami, Theory Head, and our power ballad inspired by Elton John and William Shatner, Bitches and Ho's when things got a little crazy. The bassist disagreed with the direction of my piano solo and hit me in the head with a PBR. I've got nothing after that, but apparently I'll hear the results of the recording session when
Thomas is done trying to digitally alter my voice. I think it sounds great, but what the fuck do I know about music.
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