SCARY COOL SAD GOODBYE 13
An interview with Tony, my craziest ex-fiancé.
[EDITOR’S NOTE: I published this interview in… no, can’t be… 2021?! People seemed to enjoy the ride — for a moment, there was even a semi-plausible notion to make the thing into a movie — but for reasons upon which I shan’t elaborate, I was forced to hit “delete.” Now, with many thanks to SCARY COOL SAD GOODBYE’s dear subscribers, I happily re-present what remains my journalistic peak.]
There’s some serious competition in the running for the title of my craziest ex, but the man above, Tony, has the edge. I first met Tony in 2015 when he slid into my DMs, talking about how much he liked the music of Justin Bieber. Back then he was an instrumental grime producer living in L.A. and exclusively wearing Adidas tracksuits. This guy seems fucking psychotic, I thought, but that was alright by me. Then in 2016, when I was “working,” you might generously say, for pre-“pivot to video” MTV News, I was flown out to interview the singer Tinashe, who promptly went AWOL. Cut to seven days doing drugs with Tony in hotel rooms across Los Angeles, paid for in cash. A week later, he and his Siamese cat had moved into my three-bedroom Greenpoint apartment, a development about which my roommates were none too thrilled.
Anyway, something like two years later, Tony left me for his secret second girlfriend he’d met on tour in South Korea, and obviously, we didn’t speak for ages. But I’m not much for holding grudges, so I got over it, and we became best friends again. Then he went ghost for several months, which I presumed to mean he’d died or gone to jail. Turned out, it was the latter — Korean prison, to be specific, after which he was deported back to the US of A. I lost contact for a while again after that, too, until earlier this month I got an email, subject line: “Hello I’m alive.” The rest went: “Got kidnapped by a cartel in Mexico City . That sucked. They took everything . Don’t know if you feel like talking to me but if you do call me I lost all my numbers. Living in México city trying to find inspiration and make music.”
Well, that seemed like an opportunity for some quality journalism. What follows, in full except for the parts where he actively incriminates himself, is my two-hour interview with Tony about what he’s been up to these past few years.
TONY: So, I mean, where the fuck to start?
MG: Okay, no, I call the shots here. I’m the one doing the interview.
Am I getting paid for this? I feel like you said something about money.
What? No, I get paid for this. Sort of. Not really.
So I get no percentage whatsoever?
Dude, no. Anyway, can you explain where you are in the world presently, and how you found yourself there? Because I genuinely do not even know.
Okay. Okay. First of all, I’m in Mexico City. San Rafael. So I was chilling in Korea, not happy, and I got snitched on for allegedly — key word — selling eleven grams of marijuana to someone. And you know, in Korea that’s a big deal. They don’t know anything about drugs. They are so serious about shit I was under surveillance for like a month. The guy snitched on me but he didn’t know my name or where I lived, so they fucking tracked me from his house. They thought I was some huge dealer, and one day they kick in my door, and they don’t have guns, so it’s like eight screaming Korean fucking detectives with batons. I’m just like yo, what the fuck. They’re screaming at me and showing me pictures of the snitch, so I’m like, fuck.
And I knew how it works: first time, if you don’t get caught selling but smoking, you go to prison three or four months, they deport you, you’re banned for five years and then everything’s chill. But they were trying to get me on more shit. They’re raiding my house, I’m handcuffed on my couch, and my ex is just putting cigarettes in my mouth and I’m like yo, get my xanax, and I just dumped like nine in my mouth. They found two pipes and a scale. The craziest part is, the whole time, I’m handcuffed on my couch and they’re going through all my shit and I’m looking at my tv and right in front of it is a pen with like two grams of hash oil in it, which is a whole other fucking charge. I’m just watching them walk back and forth and they missed all that shit. They don’t understand drugs.
So anyways, I go to jail first for like a week. They pick me up every day and interrogate me, but they’re really bad at it. But they were cool. They would like, order me food and let me smoke cigarettes in the bathroom. They were nice. So they tried to charge me for allegedly selling eleven grams and I’d get five years in prison with hard labor, but you know, no face no case, they had like the back of my head on CCTV. But in jail, I had my own cell, and then a few days before I get transferred, this dude gets thrown in my cell and he was fucked up, the cops beat the shit out of him, so he’d just sleep all the time. I’d wake him up whenever it was dinner time and we’d sit on the ground and eat. Like, there’s no beds and shit, you’re just on the floor all day. Your mattress is a blanket. But in jail they had American movie channels.
Anyways, point being, I’d wake this dude up whenever it was time to eat. He didn’t know English at all. He was like, why are you here? I went like [puffing gesture] and he’s like, happy smoke? Anyways, after I’d been transferred to prison, he shows up and is on my same unit one cell down. In Korea when you’re in prison you have this tag and they’re different colors, so like, white is minor money crimes, blue is drugs, red is murder but they don’t fucking kill people there, and gold is like you embezzled millions of dollars. I had blue, but I didn’t even know what it meant. So I had all these dudes coming up to me like, what’s good? Anyone who knew any English would practice it on me, like this North Korean meth smuggler knew “John Wayne,” “whiskey”... He told me come to North Korea any time and have as much meth as you want, I got you.
So anyways, all the OGs, the hardcore dudes, are like 50-plus and fucking ripped and they all have yakuza tattoos from neck to legs. Anyway, that dude ended up on my unit and it turned out he was some kind of boss. Once he showed up, everyone fucked with me. And if you’re friends with someone in Korean prison and you go to the yard to walk around, you hold hands. Like, guys hold hands. It’s like a respect thing. At first I was weirded out, but he showed up and he was so hyped to see me so we’re walking around holding hands, and he speaks no English at all. Then the other guys who didn’t talk to me before were like, this is boss, he’s Injection King. There is no one in there for weed. All the Korean dudes who were in there were selling meth, like mafia. So if I ever choose to go back to Korea, which I really doubt, I have some real friends now. I got their Facebooks, their phone numbers, we’re good.
Then there was the whole issue of, like, I was in quarantine for two weeks so that means no shower. Once it’s not cold, you don’t take showers anyways. You just have a faucet and a bucket and no hot water. But when it was still cold we’d get a shower once a week. They found out I had a Korean girlfriend and it immediately went to, like, you’re American, you must have a huge dick. Everybody was looking. And like, my dick is pretty average-sized, I’d say. Maybe a little above average. Would you say?
Yeah, like, a three out of five.
I guess that’s not bad? Maybe like a three and a half? I mean, really, three out of five? I mean, ten is like, painful, right?
I mean… but if it’s three and a half out of five that means it’s seven out of ten, and I feel like it’s closer to a six.
Three out of five is way better than six out of ten. It sounded better. Anyways, there was a lot of dick talk for a while. But everyone was really nice, and everyone practiced their English. The guards were really nice to me because they were worried, because I was the only American out of like 5,000 inmates. They were always asking me if I needed anything. I was allowed to have western food, but I was like, I have three cellmates, I’m not gonna be the asshole eating a ham sandwich while everyone else is eating rice and shitty kimchi soup. Yeah, so there’s no violence. You’re in your cell 23 and a half hours a day, and it’s very small. I had three Chinese roommates and then one Mongolian roommate. We played a lot of go. It was really weird because we were all very close, and we didn’t really speak. Like, I didn’t have a real conversation in English for months and months. It was fucking weird. But it’s crazy how you just find different ways to communicate. We all knew the vibe. We would laugh, we’d have fun. And then this is also where I started believing in God, but I don’t know if we have to get into all that.
Okay, so, I wanted a book. They’d show a few hours of Korean TV and then turn it off til evening, and then everything shuts down at nine and you wake up at six. You have to sit in a row cross-legged and call out your number. If there’s four in a cell you yell out han, dul, set, net. You’re not allowed to lay down during the day on the floor except for after breakfast, they play classical music and you can sleep for that hour. And then one hour in the afternoon, which I used for working out.
Are you buff now?
I was, and then I got out. It’s a lot harder to do sit-ups now, cause I can just drink beer and do drugs. So, I wanted a book, and you have to buy books, and you have to know the name and the publisher and I was like, what the fuck? I had always wanted to read the Bible, and it’s really fucking long, right, and the easiest book to get. So I asked if I could order one. My first guard came the day I was getting transferred and just handed me this Bible and he brought over a translator who said, he wants you to know this is a present. I still have it, it’s in Korean and English. And you know me, I have to fall asleep with the TV on, man, so I’m laying in the cell and I’m taller than the cell and it was not fun.
Then I got the Bible, and at first I tripped out, because I started with the ten commandments, and I open it expecting to be like, oh, I’m fucked, I’m like the biggest piece of shit. But actually I was like, I’m already doing most of this shit, it’s pretty simple. Just don’t be an asshole. And Jesus says later on, in the New Testament when they’re trying to set him up and trying to test him about the commandments, you really only need one commandment to follow all the rest, and that’s love thy neighbor. If you love your homies and you love everyone, then you don’t break the rest. Then you don’t fuck your friend’s wife or steal from people, it’s like, basic shit. I’ve read the Bible cover to cover multiple times. Like, quiz me.
Well, what’s your favorite part?
Ecclesiastes, I can’t even believe they put that in the Bible. I don’t like the King James version because they took shit out, but it’s also more poetic. It starts with, like, everything means nothing, and I guess there was a big debate about actually putting that in the Bible. Supposedly it was written by Solomon. But anyways, that’s my favorite because it’s just real as fuck. It’s like, everything’s been done. I was just like, whoa. The Old Testament is God just being fucking pissed for like a thousand pages. It’s like, dude, what were these fuckers’ problems? Like, God was there. Like, dude, God’s right there, you need to chill the fuck out, bro! Just kick back! And they’re like, bitching and complaining. Moses frees them from slavery and they’re like, why do we have to be in the desert so long and eat this shitty bread God gave us? Like, fuck bro, are you serious? He’s right there, man! Everything you say, Moses has to go fucking save your ass. So the Old Testament is just doom and fucking gloom. And the prophets are really hard to read, cause it’s hundreds of pages of them being like, you are fucked, you fucked everything up, God is going to come and you’re going to burn forever. There’s nothing you can do about it. I have to pee but we have to keep it going so you’re just going to have to hear me pee, I’m sorry. You can put that in there: “sound of urine.” But I think first I’ll do some cocaine.
[Tony does several key bumps]
Anyways, Old Testament, fucking crazy. At first I’d get really bored, because when they build a temple, it has to be this many cubits long, this many cubits wide, this many pieces of wood. But eventually, after I read the whole shit, it was very interesting.
Is God mad when you do drugs?
I mean, I don’t know. The Bible says don’t get really drunk. Well, that’s not true. It says don’t get completely belligerent all the time. At that time they meant wine and beer, but it applies to anything. But I’m a fucking sinner, like anyone else. I try to be a good person, now more than ever. The problem is when you’re not functioning, or when you run out of money and can’t buy any more drugs. So, God killed everybody. He was like, I can’t fuck with you guys, this was a huge mistake. So he tells Noah and his sons and their wives, like yo, build this shit, get the fuck out, and just murks everyone. They were in that boat for fucking years or some shit. When they got out, there was a rainbow, and God said, this is my pact with you that whenever you see that, I’m thinking about you, but I’m never getting involved with your guys’ bullshit again. Do whatever the fuck you want. I can’t fucking smite everybody all the time.
[Tony blows his nose; the results are gross.]
Ew…
What, dude, you want the truth? You want to talk about music or some shit? You want to talk about my next project, what I’ve been listening to? I’ll tell you what I’ve been listening to: nothing but Westside Gunn, Pusha T, and late ‘60s, early ‘70s soul music. So, the New Testament is a whole other thing. Jesus shows up. Son of God or not, Jesus was a dude who would now be considered a terrorist, for sure. And he made it clear: he was like, don’t get it twisted, I’m not here to save you all, I’m here with a sword. You’re either with me or against me. That dude was hardcore.
But the New Testament is very interesting because it changes the whole thing, it’s about love and acceptance. There’s parts of the Old Testament that I completely disagree with — like, obviously slavery, homosexuality, women have no rights whatsoever. But I also feel that if God is real like I think he is, he’s not an asshole. Like, that book is fucking old, bro. First of all, you’re not supposed to work on Sundays. Like, dude, we’re not all fucking goat herders now. They didn’t have rent then. Like, no, bro, I gotta sell Polo. Which means that I believe his views on homosexuality and slavery would be completely different now. But if I die and get up there and he’s like, no, actually I’m still all about that shit, I’d be like, fuck off. At least fucking understand the situation, bro. You think God has a Black Lives Matter t-shirt? I could go on and on.
Anyways, the Jews really didn’t fuck with Jesus because he was saying he’s the son of God. And he didn’t have to die. The Roman congress people were like, we don’t have to kill this dude, it doesn’t make any sense. He didn’t do anything. But, what’s his name, Harriod? He finally just said fuck it. They have this thing they do every year where they release one person from prison. It was either Jesus or this dude Barnabus who was this gangster who killed tons of people. But the Jews were like, kill him, kill him. They just fucking murked him because he said he was the son of God — and that’s not even what he said. He was like, if that’s what you say, okay. He kept his mouth shut. But the thing about religion for me, like, if there’s heaven, that’s cool. But that’s not what I read the Bible for. I pray to make my life better and to make me a better person. I pray for my friends, I pray for you. The interview’s going great.
It’s going really good.
So, did Lana Del Rey really call me a sociopath?
Yeah. I was on the phone with her — this was like three weeks after you left me, so I was still pretty deep in it. I was like, um, off the record, but I just wanted to know, how do you stop destroying your life for terrible men over and over again?
I mean… was I really that terrible? The whole time?
I mean, there were good times, but they coexisted with bad times.
I don’t want to get into the actual issues. I know what they are.
Anyway, she was like, you have to do a lot of research into sociopathy so that when you see it, you know the vibe and you don’t even bother. Although the problem with this is if you do a lot of research into sociopaths, you start thinking everyone’s a sociopath.
I’m the exact opposite, dude. I cry at like every fucking movie. I have way too many feelings.
No, you’re not a sociopath. You just used to be very selfish.
That is correct. Until I got out of Korean prison, so I’ve been unselfish for seven, eight months now.
So what’s being deported all about?
You have to buy your own ticket. It took me a few days. Then you go to the airport and I was in a room with like 50 Thai guys and a bunch of Thai girls who were all obviously prostitutes. They took me to the airport and it was just me and 30 Thai prostitutes. They brought me way early; my flight was at like eight PM and they brought me at like ten AM. Since I was American, they treated me completely different. The guard comes in and is like, you want a coffee? Yeah, coffee would be great. The other dudes are like, can I have a coffee? They’re like yeah, two dollars. The way it works is they handcuff you to your luggage, walk you to the gate and uncuff you. Then my shoe got untied and I was like, can I tie my shoe? Then they just took the handcuffs off. They were like, you’re American, you’re cool. But it was still like, shame. I had to check in like a normal person but I’m fucking handcuffed. I got to skip the line, which was cool, but there’s fucking police all around me and I’m handcuffed trying to give them my passport and everyone’s staring. I was shamed. Korea’s big on shaming you. That’s a big thing there.
So yeah, I got on the flight and I landed in LA and they gave me back my passport. What was crazy to me is when I got back, they didn’t check my temperature or do anything about covid. I’m like, I’m coming from Korea, I’m directly in the middle. They asked me no questions. Also, the dude that snitched on me, I hit him up when I got back, and he was very nervous because he’s not really the same kind of person I am. Like, he’s an English teacher. Most lames in Korea are there to teach English. He brought in mad sheets of acid, but he hadn’t even tried acid, he just saw an opportunity. It was wack acid, too. But we had a tight circle. We had more weed than anybody around, coke, whatever, I had everything. One of my proudest moments was when I imported a good amount of acid and molly into the country. One capsule of molly there is like $150. I was proud that I pulled that off.
Okay, weirder shit — back when I was in jail, before prison, I asked if they had any English books. And they did, so I grabbed them all. And I knew this dude was super into history and I was like, this dude must have been here. I open the book and there’s a fucking note to me on the page. He was like, I got snitched on by two Indian guys, which is true, and the game keeps going, which I’m like, dude you’re not in the fucking game. Then he’s like dude, I’m sorry. He said he got it from me but he didn’t give them my name. After I heard that I was like, at least he fucking tried. So I hit him up and I was like, what’s good, let’s find a way to make the situation better, and I said I needed a thousand US dollars for every month I was in prison. He paid me, so I feel like he manned up. In the end, I got charged with buying one gram from him, cause that’s what I told them, and he gets charged for buying one from me. The whole thing was fucking ridiculous. Those cops were great.
We’re like an hour in and you still have not answered my first question, which is, what are you doing in Mexico City?
Okay, so I get deported. I go to Arizona. Had a very interesting time staying with my mother. The house is so quiet and my brother has not moved out and it’s like fucking Grey Gardens. One day the neighbors were getting in a fight and all of a sudden my brother comes out with a gun, my mom comes out with a gun, and I’m like yo guys, they’re just over there arguing, it’s cool. I’m still with my girlfriend and she was extremely abusive, mentally and physically, but I felt like I had to try because I never did enough before, so I guess I was paying off my karmic debt. She ends up flying out but she can only stay three months on a tourist visa and there was nowhere else we could go.
So we came here. I got a plug the first day I was here. I went to a pharmacy across from my hotel and I was like, can you sell me some xanax? They’re like, no, absolutely not. But there was this dude standing next to me who translated for me and he was like, here, take this, and he sent me a menu on WhatsApp with every drug known to man. So I just went fucking crazy. So, ended up being kidnapped and ended up in a very scary hospital where I was the only person — a cartel hospital. People were following me because I wore too much flashy Polo. People thought I had money; I don’t. I hadn’t slept, and I got paranoid that they were gonna find drugs so I think I ate a gram of molly in one bite. I ended up freaking out so bad I blacked out. I fell through a window.
You stay falling through windows.
Yeah, I fall through things. So I black out, and what happens here is there’s barely any public ambulances. These restaurant owners really helped me out, they saved all my shit for me. Everyone has to pay, right, if you own a restaurant you pay the cops. So they call cops they know and we’re waiting for an ambulance — I guess, I’m blacked out. But they never show up, so then a private ambulance comes, and they’re all sketchy. They put tubes down my throat. When I woke up I had needles all in my hands, in my arms, just everywhere. I was handcuffed to a stretcher. I had no idea where I was. And it turns out, after doing some research, 90% of foreigners that go to this hospital die, and they harvest their organs. Like, they sent a girl last year back to the UK without eyeballs. I kept coming in and out of consciousness, and I have these memories of them shooting me up with like, mad downers, and then mad amphetamines, they were bringing me back and forth. I was out of it but I had these flashes of like, something’s really fucked up. So finally I come to, alright, and I have no shirt, I have all these weird needles, and they see me and they’re kind of shocked. I think they were trying to finish me off, which is kind of a waste — like, what are you gonna get for my liver, bro? How much are my lungs worth? You picked the wrong one.
So I come to in the most pain I’ve ever been in, besides kicking heroin. I’m handcuffed and they’re all looking at me and no one’s really a doctor. The fucking dude had a handgun. I play it real chill, and the second they take the handcuff off, I jump up and start running and start trying to kick fucking doors down. They’re trying to calm me down and I’m like, fuck you, fuck you! They were like, do you want a mask? Like, for covid. I’m like fuck you, you motherfuckers aren’t killing me! Then they were like, do you want a Coke? But I thought they said coke, so I’m like, no dude, I don’t want fucking coke! Then they were like, you need to call people, you need to pay us more money. I’d already paid them like 2,000 dollars, which is crazy.
Eventually I just keep going crazy and they decided, alright, we need to get this fucker out of here. They bring out the ambulance and the ambulance driver was the biggest, scariest dude ever. He’s like, come on! I’m like, fuck you. And the whole time there’s cartel cars circling. Finally I get so crazy on the huge fucking ambulance driver that he gets out and offers me a cigarette. It’s me, the guy with the gun, the ambulance driver and two nurses, just all smoking cigarettes. And they had these walkie talkies in the ambulance that were mostly in Spanish, but at one point it turns to English, and I heard them say, fuck it, let’s just kill this motherfucker, this is bullshit. Immediately I’m all, what?!, and he just turns off the radio. We got to the hotel and they took my girlfriend and made her empty her account. They took all our money. And then they were very polite. They were like, “Bye, Mr. Tony!” So that was my first four days in Mexico.
Are you fucking joking?
I’m obviously not.
So where’s your ex-girlfriend at now?
I think she’s still in Mexico. I don’t fucking know. Last time I saw her she was in a hostel, doing hostel shit with hostel guys. She’s all please come over, and I’m like, do you realize this is like the most awkward, uncomfortable shit? She’d been there one day and this dude who belongs permanently at Burning Man, who has custom-made leather satchels, he’s like oh, you’re the ex-boyfriend! I’m like, okay, so you’ve been here for like 18 hours and you’ve already told all these weird motherfuckers about my shit. Very uncomfortable. But since then things have just gotten better and better, besides the amount of cocaine I do. Which has also gotten better, because the prices keep going down. I don’t know if that’s better or worse. So yeah, I’m just gonna live here, it’s fucking chill as fuck, besides the whole organ harvesting thing. Anyway, you like Westside Gunn, right?
It’s not my thing, but I can appreciate it for what it is.
The samples, the way they use them… the best song is “Kennedy.” It’s like 42 seconds and he’s like, I’ll blow your fucking face off, and there’s R&B girls singing in the background. And it’s just real shit. They’re wearing the dopest high fashion clothes and just shooting dudes in the face on the regular. You can’t make this shit up, like all these dumb fucking kids do. So, have you listened to the Justin Bieber album?
I haven’t. I haven’t even heard the single.
I think we should listen to it, now. I’ll tell you this: the album, it’s whatever, but he did a Tiny Desk that is fucking amazing. Before we go any farther, we’ve caught up on why I’m here and how I got here. So now can we listen to the Bieber song?
Sure.
It’s a fucking banger. And then “Lonely”? That’s the realest fucking Bieber song you’ll ever hear. He’s talking about how I have all the money and I have no one to talk to and maybe that’s the price you pay for being in the shit since you were a kid. It’s fucking real. Obviously I looked at the credits and there’s 15 million writers on every song, but I feel like this one is really him. I think this is the first time I’ve heard him say “fuck” in a song. He’s changed so much since Purpose, what, seven years ago? It was 2015. I know I’m right, it’s Bieber. Fuck. The single is a fucking banger, so I’ll play that first. Also I haven’t slept, I’m emotional, I don’t why exactly. Next time you talk to Lana Del Rey, tell her I have way too many fucking feelings to be a sociopath. Okay, here we go.
[We listen to Justin Bieber “Hold On.”]
Yeah, and the first song is really good, it’s just piano, produced by Skrillex. Wet hair motherfucker. We used to go to the same coffee shop and he’d get out of his Prius with his wet hair, and he’s like two feet tall. I hate rich people that drive Priuses. Like, really? At least bring out the Tesla, I know you’ve got one at home. You don’t have to bring the Prius out for coffee, you asshole. Okay, so this is “Lonely.” Tell me this isn’t the realest shit he’s ever said.
Damn. That was intense.
Look at the rainbow, too. Because he really believes in God. I like the song with Chance, too, because it’s all about God. But Bieber’s just talking about marrying his girlfriend. Chance has bars about God. If you’ve read the Bible and you hear this shit, you’re like oh, fuck.
Well, Bieber was how we first met, remember? You slid in my DMs talking about Justin Bieber, and then you made me a remix: “What Do You Mean (MEAGHAN GARVEY VIP).”
Yeah, I was so hyped. I was like, asking Jeff Weiss to give me an intro forever.
Why, so I could write about your instrumental grime music for MTV?
No, fuck that shit! Dude, do you know how fucking weird I felt at your apartment listening to, like, a new Future album with a bunch of fucking music writers? I was like, I am in the wrong room. I’m surrounded by my enemies. I’m not even supposed to know this shit. You know how much my soul was crushed when I realized how that shit really is?
Tell me about it, me too!
Anyway, now I appreciate Chance, because of spiritual things. He has bars about God that if you don’t understand the Bible, you won’t get it. It’s like Pusha T level but about God. Horns of Jericho, fucking breaking down walls.
Nobody likes him anymore. Everyone turned on Chance over the past few years.
Yeah, well that makes me like him more. Whenever people stop liking someone, that’s probably around the time I start appreciating them.
Where would you rank our relationship among all your relationships? You can be honest.
Number one. I’m not lying. I just felt that you were way more unhappy than I was. I was being selfish, I guess, but I also thought that I wasn’t doing you any good at all. That’s not the only reason I fucking left, but it was really hard. Everything happens for a reason, shit goes the way it’s supposed to go. I don’t regret much in my life, you know what I regret. But you were another regret. I don’t understand how I could have been so self-absorbed. Not like in a prick way, in a fucking depression anxiety way. Whatever. I mean, how deep do you want me to go? Do you want me to cry? I need to get paid if I cry. So you’ve asked me like one question this whole thing. Why did you want to do this with me?
I don’t know, I guess I thought it would be funny. Plus I’m really sick of writing about music, so I’m trying to change it up. I also just wanted to know what happened to you, because you didn’t really tell me.
Tell Lana Del Rey big up on calling me a sociopath. I feel like that doesn’t get to happen to too many people, so I feel extremely privileged.
Last year she called Donald Trump a sociopath, so you two have that in common.
Like I was saying, maybe next time you can just tell her I was a selfish prick, but I’m actually not so bad. That’d be nice. But still, I’m honored.
What do you want to tell the nice people that subscribe to my newsletter?
Explain to me what this newsletter is about.
It’s about me keeping busy, because I was doing fuck all last year.
I don’t know, who are your readers, the same people that read like, your Pitchfork shit? I don’t wanna hate on them or make them feel bad.
I think they know where I’m at in life. I’m doing regular shit. I’m trying to be a regular person, in the mix, not on the computer. I dress real basic. I bought Crocs, and I wear them in public. I’m being regular, and it’s paying dividends.
Salt of the earth, bro. I would like to do the same thing, but I just feel like that’s not what’s in store for me. I’m okay with that.
You’re probably the least regular person that I know, and I know some freaks.
What are you saying by that?
No, it’s a good thing. You just have the weirdest life of anyone I know very well.
Anyways, fuck music, fuck music writers, except you. Please tell Lana Del Rey I’m not a sociopath and I think she’s really cool, and I think if we all hung out she might actually like me. You have to ask another question, this is not the end.
Should it be about us, or should it be like, existential?
Dude, I’m fucking 40, don’t hit me with some existential bullshit.
Hmm. What’s your favorite moment from our relationship?
It’s tough. The first time in LA, when we just hung out in my empty apartment.
Yeah, and we watched that devastating movie about the dog. White God.
And before that we were just in hotels, buying a lot of drugs.
And MTV paid for everything. It was fucking great.
Did they pay for the drugs?
No, but we— well, mostly you— tore up the mini-bar at the first hotel, and they paid for that. I remember checking out, being like, hmm, what’s going to happen here? But everything was covered.
Dope. Big up Viacom, you fucking evil bastards.