I sent an email to my old professors and advisors to let them know what I had been up to. Seemed like the thing to do.

One of my main advertising teachers sent this back. He is a cool guy, smart as hell, it is just hard sometimes to understand him through his STRONG asian accent. Like a “L’s sound like R’s” type of thing.

Here it is:

Hi, ClitorisRex,

Congratulation! Keep it touch!

The part that really gets me is the “You looks like a cynical person” bit. HA, there is no way in hell I will ever figure out what the hell he means. I AM cynical, but the way he said it will forever keep me up at night.

I laughed my ass off. Maybe you can get something out of this.

“The curse will be lifted from the families of the employees of the label that signs mo’ Puffys to a more lucrative record deal than that of baby-raper R. Kelly”

“Oh no, Stevie Knicks will say, oh some people call me all the time. I know what it sounds like…
Do I have a platinum record, do I have an exclusive contract?
I don’t know…
Do I have a gold record, do I have two reps?
I don’t know…
[Leaves name, phone, agency]
I want a record contract, do I have a platinum record?”

Shit sounded like a fucking limerick read by the whiniest drag queen in history. It had iambic pentameter…I think.

Anyway, my date was fun, she’s a cool girl. Extremely cool in fact. I don’t know if it will go anywhere since I am about as “relationship ready” as a three-year-old, but I am definitely going to hang out with her again, and we are going to hook each other up with concert tickets and CD’s from our respective labels. One hand washes the other. She did say it was “the best date she has ever been on” though…whatever that’s worth.

And now, a picture I took a few weekends ago of a bridesmaid doing a kegstand…while getting felt up.

There’s two types of interns. The type who shut the fuck up because they know that they are interns (I was this kind, the good kind), and the type who walk around like they run shit, like they just mutated into a miniature David Geffen…which is REALLY small because David Geffen is tiny.

If you are ever an intern, follow these simple rules and you will be fine.

1. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEARN. That’s what you are there to do, LEARN. You are not paid, and 90 percent of the people you work with don’t even know your name. “Jackie Treehorn draws a lot of water in this town. You don’t draw shit”.

2. NO job will be below you. If you are asked to wax some rich dude’s curly crap cannon, you do it and don’t complain.

3. Make an impression, but don’t be obnoxious. There’s this kid who interns for one of our world music labels who walks around yapping the ear off of anyone he works for, with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, not realizing that the people he works for want him to just shut the fuck up an organize their CD closets.

4. If you don’t know something, ASK. This is probably the only time you should be talking, is when you have a question. No one wants you rushing into a job without knowing what is going on, so ask.

I think that’s it. I got pretty heated there so I am going to slow down a bit.

Anyway, I think I am going to post a picture here every day, at the least, because, lets face it, we all love pictures.

This is COMPLETELY unrelated to anything ever discussed here, but apparently these big fucking 100 pound flying carp are taking over the great lakes, blitzkrieg style. They jump out of the water and knock people’s teeth out, knock them unconscious, or knock them out of the boat. Thanks Ogre.

I am going on a date tonight with a girl who works in video promo for another label. I met her when I was drunk so who knows what could happen. Keep you posted.