Marc

Where the hell is Zach? Shit, he's the only one that people read anyways. Me and Scooter are like the two little freaks that latch on to something good and suck the life out of it (even though I started and still "administrate" all kinds of up on this bitch). We need Zach for his obsessive-compulsive disorder (ie-buying shitloads of CD's and talking about them). Compared to him, Scooter and I are retarded. We buy the hardcore/soft-rock/indie/acoustic-singer-songwriter stuff (me) and the pop-punk/ska/lame-ass stuff (scooter). What the hell? All the Indie kids love Zach. I think he's even endorsed, or sponsored by Hey Mercedes. Is he just throwing it all away. Zach? Hello? Are you there?

Anywho, I'm chilling. Just did a buddalong of emailing. I don't know why I let that thing pile up like I do. I'm the kind of guy that you'll email and I'll call you (assuming I know your phone number). I'm a lot cooler on the phone, I think. Emails always scare me. What do I say? It's so concrete. If you say something offensive, someone can print it out and hold it against you forever and ever. If you talk on the phone, they usually just forget whatever it is you said. Then again, I hate talking on the phone too. So, I guess I'm screwed either way.

My feet are seriously just about as skanky as they can be right now. Fuck.