Monday is my 30th birthday. I am not particularly happy about this. I was too busy to arrange a party, I have no money, and I’m a total loser who still lives with my parents and has yet to make a million dollars, release an album, or do anything of any real consequence for the world. Or even, y’know, have a date to my own (non-existent) birthday party.
Therefore, if you live in the greater Las Vegas area, I suggest you lock your doors, bar your windows, and find a list of your nearest Civil Defense posts. Because I’m going to go get dressed, go out, drink myself into an angst-ridden haze of unrealized dreams and sexual frustration, tear this city to the fucking ground and piss on the rubble ’till it turns to mud.
And that’s the agenda for the next eight hours. God knows what atrocities I’ll commit by Monday morning.
So if you’re out and about, buy me a drink. It might be your only chance of survival.
Them that die’ll be the lucky ones.