05.27.02 :: 4:21 pm


Mr. Andrew W.K sure is a talker.

He is also one of the coolest cats around. He said he would be very interested in playing at my wedding in Greece and that I should call his manager right away to arrange it.

OK.

Not that I would ever be able to afford that kind of party, but still, that was really nice of him to say.

He is my new favorite rock star and personal hero. Not because he wants to play my wedding, but because he's completely and utterly bullshit-free.

He totally loves his music and his fans and even went all Golden Girls on us at the show by saying "Thank you all for being my friend."

Sometimes I couldn't tell if he was delusional or just really really kind. I'm going with the latter.

Because he is such a loveable weirdo. I walked into his hotel room and he had fifteen cans of tuna on the windowsill, stacked, and about forty bottles of Met-R-X and MetaboLife on the floor in front of the bed. And one giant cylinder of Quaker Oats, spilled, in a corner.

Bizarre.

Now to finish transcribing. It's taking me all day, people. All day.

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