the blvd of broken brains....

this town can be a pretty hard hang sometimes...the people that move here to follow there dreams might last a little longer than the hot new club that just opened on hollywood blvd. (usually a 6 month to a year span if they are lucky) before they run home with their tail between there legs feeling completely defeated, bragging about being starfucked to the friend that works at the local diner in there hometown cuz they had a one night stand with andy melonacis or some shit....
why i have lasted as long as i have is beyond me....just the thought of going back to woodstock or jersey to do some shitty construction job or work in a deli makes me insane. i would rather stick andy dicks chlamydia infested cock in my mouth until i threw up all over his stomache.....maybe thats stretching it a tad....

i have been knocked down in this town more than i can count but just keep getting up and dusting myself off. my friends tell me i'd be a millionaire if i just had "a little more hustle"...but its a fine line between having a little hustle and just straight out hooking myself for a gig...i could never bring myself to suck some douchefucks asshole in hopes that i will play in his band someday. like ALOT of people i run into around here......but at the same time, i cant play in unknown bands for 10 people and no money anymore. so the big question is....what the fuck is a 38 year old brokeass musician with absolutely no skills in anything but making an omelette or writing some shallow disgusting sex story to do with his life? i live with a very succesful musician that i occasionally play with, and basically live off him and my girlfriend...and being an east coast italian that shit doesnt fly at all...it's real easy for me to slip into a light "poor me" type of depression wich will keep me in bed until the sun goes down and sometimes until it rises again...i have been here a long fucking time and know tons of people and usually never have trouble finding gigs wether it is band or work related....and if i may blow my own horn for a minute, i crush most of the bass players in this town that are getting job type gigs and getting paid very well for them.....
if i'm in the wrong head space this is a very discouraging thing and running home to live back at moms and work at a fucking cumberland farms doesnt sound half bad. at least i would be able to buy a pack of cigarettes if i needed to instead of hoping someone throws me a shitty door gig for the night so i can eat without having to rely on my girlfriend to feed me.....humility was never really one of my assets, and i have fucked myself more than once because i thought i was too good for something..but being sober a while and somewhat working on my shit i have come to realize that i might just have to "be recognized" standing behind a counter....it has come to that. i could get a job as a doorguy somewhere but that job can really empty your soul if you're not careful. i could probably learn to tech and go on the road with some friends and make decent money, but im too fucking scared because i dont think im good enough or change strings wrong or some dumb shit....
luckily i was born with faith...for some strange reason i have always been taken care of in one form or another. i may not have what i want, but i certainly have what i need...by the way i type this from my house up beachwood canyon while i stare out the window at the hollywood sign....and there is a lexus in the garage....and a beautiful, loving, caring, girlfriend downstairs who accepts me for the dumbass i am.......and i just played for about 10,000 people last week and got flown to NY to see my family for the weekend for free. and.....i know the bad brains........hehe.......time to get my "hustle" on i guess.....