Well. People don't get the blessed gift of my presence very often. I'm somewhat of an enigma. I show up, vanish, reappear, and you wonder if I was ever really there to begin with. I'm That Guy.
You know that guy. The guy that shows up at your party. You never met me before and you begin to ask all your guests if they know me. They don't. I drink every drop of your booze before anybody else can get to it. Soon after, I puke on your leather couch, and the cool part is, I never even tried for the bathroom. I take all the women home with me, leaving nothing for your lonely buddies, and after the parties all over, you wake up hung over in the morning for some Lucky Charms, and you discover that your iPod and best DVDs are missing. That's because I have them now. Sucker.
I don't care what you think, and the ladies love me for it. I have to fight them off. I mean, there are some crazy bitches out there, man. crazy.
I recently moved out to LA to pursue my music career. I've been conjuring up some twisted beats at home. Using my oldschool keyboards, guitar, funky music toys, a Mexican accordion, and whatever else I can find.
I'll see you, or I won't. Whatever.
That Guy
