Moving sucks, yo.

I've never had to fend off an anal rape attempt, but I imagine it's similar to boxing up all your worldy goods, putting them in a UHaul, and unloading them in a new destination. Then having to go back and clean up your old place, while simultaneously ducking your old landlord. And never being done when you think you're done.

Although to be honest, the move I participated in this week was much less traumatic than my last two, and my new digs are super dope.

I won't have internet at the crib until next week (because Optimum is lazy), but I'll get caught up on Top 10 Jobbers this week @ work, I've got one ready at the moment I'm just looking for a photo.

Oh yeah my roomate ran into Gene Simmons yesterday in Chelsea. He didn't spit on him. A small part of me wishes I would get sued over "Shoot Interview" (which samples a Melvins cover of "Going Blind" by KISS). I would love to counter his claim of "You infringed on my intellectual property" with "You fucked my Aunt Pam."

I've had a similar daydream about sampling Oasis and being sued, cause I would love for those Cockney faggots (who DO make some great records, I'll give 'em that) to say something about me ripping them off, so I could counter them in "the media" with the list I've compiled over the years of Oasis songs that are note-for-note rip-offs of hits by T.Rex, New York Dolls, The Jam, R.E.M., etc. and of course the Beatles.