GHETTO QUA RAN HAS HIT THE FAN
Stuck in a great groove and loving it sailing to Espana... OLE!
September 6, 2002
Papa Roach was singing "She Loves Me Not", when I tried to get rich
chopping down the Oleander tree for 50 cents. Picasso was watching and he asked
me to marry him.
There was as tension in the air with my long standing beef with Walnut Creek and
America in general. My toes were being stepped on doing inspirational songs for
The Iranian.com against grand theft, drug HGH peddeling and gun-play. I was struggling
with my spiritual side in America losing valuable prizes of war.
Cody Chestnut the bona fide soul-rock genius sat on the stone steps next to his guitar
in a leather case and wore a big dog felt hat. "Give me some religon/A brand-new
Cadillac/ And a winning lotto ticket", he smiled in the Sonic Promiseland.
I didn't want to die like Gaugin with complications of Syphilis in the Marquesas
Islands. I had inherited his fondness for running away like a vagabond carring a
sack on a stick. But instead of an Island in my bedroom, you know, I decided to
go to Castello D'Empuries, Spain to be with Dali and his melted watches on a chain.
The new contender for the angst ridden wailing crown-welcome.
Sailing over the Atlantic, crossing back with C. Columbus back home where the Moslem
Moors built all the castles. It was hilarious. And as important as C.C. discovering
America in 1492 now 2002 with Shady Records, wearing Air Mission Extra by Nike.
It would be beyond the Osbourines cursing leaving San Francisco, California behind
with cat's paws on the window pane. Trading the early shift at Dunkin' Donuts for
the Bullfight Ring and a siesta.
Like seeing old friends again after an ugly pile of minesweeping bugs, mechanical
birds, robat ants abducting children to Afghanistan. Learning from falling I made
my dream come true at seventy two stuck in a great groove and loving it sailing to