Jam Night

 

Gary’s “Jam Night”. A bunch of industry people invade a Valley dive bar. The regulars and biker gang hanging outside didn’t look to stoked. Fuck em. Packed inside, huge line at the bar. Liquor store next door, back and forth.

I showed up with my camera and a bunch of new John Fulford hoodies. In other words i left a bunch of hoodies in the trunk of my car and brought two inside the bar. Both gone within 1 minute. Someone accused my free hoodies of being “payola”. If only it were that easy.

Shake hands, hug, catch up repeat. Repeat what you said it’s super loud in here. Ubers lined up down Woodman Avenue to carriage patrons to the next event. No Lyfts. Us savages didn’t remember we’re supposed to use Lyft instead.

1:20AM. Alone, watching Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix. John Debney score. Sounds like the Dramedy cues i do for Kardashians, only better. Currently under contract do deliver over 3 hours of music. Over an hours worth of songs. Full vocal arrangements, great lyrics etc.. ears ringing too loud from earlier to do anything productive. For now i can watch Drew Barrymore try to nail her toe back on.

I’m going to Dunkin Donuts tomorrow.

 

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