Whoooa, last night my brain checked out. I was writing lists and people kept coming up to make sure I was "ok". But it was like I wasn't even home. I was just writing lists of names. Weird. I got my jacket from upstairs and ran into Michael Pitt outside smoking a fag so we hung out for a little bit. Went in and got a beer and he sat next to me on a two person couch so I didn't know what to do with myself so I just zoned out again and drew on my shoes. I dunno, like I said, brain dead. He was talking to boss Steve about some sort of house residency though, although Im not sure Steve was gung-ho about the idea. Why would an indie-movie star move to BUSHWICK? Weird. I think I got my interview with him though, but I was too spacey to do it last night so I just made some b.s. excuse about wanting to do it with his whole band. Blah blah blah. He seems nice.
Some guy calling himself Mike Jones tried to sell us pot outside. He kept it in his butt, gross. But he had this cool thing that I totally admired where he called people by what celebrity they looked like. So Mathew was Johnny Depp, I was Winona Rider, Zack was Woodie Allen, Steve was Tom Cruise, and Mike Jones was Mike Jones! Now Mathew has to get a tattoo saying "Drew forever!" on his arm.