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I want to go too!
Here's a quick recap for those not in the loop:
a) I'm a loser.
b) I won a contest to go to the Grammys and interview bands.
c) I leave Thursday morning.
So today I received my official Grammy Weekend Itinerary. The thing is filled with shit to do. There's the whole radio bit on Thursday and Friday. A huge celebrity tribute to Brian Wilson Friday night. Then there are all kinds of parties, before parties, after parties, after after parties and, well, a little something called The Grammys sandwiched between it all.
I will say that it was somewhat strange to book my flight this morning and not have to hand over a credit card number at the end of the call. One could tell I was a bit thrown off by listening to the end of our conversation.
ME: So that's it?
Her: That's it.
Me: You sure that's it?
Her: Yep. That's it.
Me: Okay, you sure that's it because I'm hanging up the phone right now and after I do so it will really be it and you won't be able to get this conversation back even if you called me again because I won't answer.
Click.
So that was it. My flight was booked. I sat back for a second, smiled and began counting down the seconds. That was until one of the girls from my office spoke the following sentence:
"Yeah, so what are you gonna wear and shit? You do know that you have to wear really nice clothes to all these parties, don't you?"
Um. Shit.
See, here's the thing -- I don't own one piece of nice clothing. In my fabulous collection of moronic t-shirts, there's one suit. You know that one suit a boy buys in high school? The suit that's supposed to make him a man?
Yeah, that's my one suit.
I immediately searched for pictures from previous Grammy awards and, while swallowing back vomit, I realized I was in for some serious shit. Here I am going to all these really cool parties with people living in a alternate cool universe then I and this moron has nothing to wear.
God, I feel like a teenage girl going to her first Backstreet Boys concert -- in her living room. So I need help. I need your help. I need to know what the hell I should wear. Something that's reasonably priced. Something that will hopefully trick people into thinking I actually belonged there.
Yeah, I'm a loser.
So I'm leaving on a jet plane/don't know when I'll be back again.
Actually, I'll be back on Monday. The laptop will be coming with me though and assuming they have internet in L.A. (mostly farmland, I know) then you'll be seeing some Grammy Weekend Updates throughout the next few days.
If you don't hear from me then it's either one of two things:
1) For some reason the laptop/internet didn't work.
2) It turned out to be laced with some bad shit.
I believe I now know exactly which band(s) I'll be interviewing on the radio but I don't want to disclose that info just yet.
Note: There may be a hint somewhere in this post
Yeah, so what's the deal with Ash Wednesday? Is anyone else severely freaked out by this little religious holiday of the sorts?
I hate Ash Wednesday because I always forget about the whole thing and then all of a sudden everyone has shit on their forehead and you really want to tell them so but then realize, duh, it's Ash Wednesday.
Then you kinda want to have shit on your forehead too because everyone else is doing it. Then you remember how stupid they all look. But you still want to fit in.
Because you're an American.
Idiot.
Thanks Jesus.
Oh, and thanks to Sigmund, Carl and Alfred for writing a super special review of Fat Eye For The Skinny Guy. Go over there and check it out. They even used big words and shit.
...laterz
[Fat Eye For The Skinny Guy]
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