Thursday, January 21, 2010


Michael has stared at my ass probably more than any other man I know, but that's his own damn fault for being a drummer. It's kind of sad, considering that my ass is nowhere near George Michael video quality. It's a good thing I'm always wearing pants — no, wait...that's not entirely true. There was that night in Erie, Pennsylvania. There was also that night at the Continental back in 97. I'm afraid to continue this line of thought further.

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