Drank the fuck out of some orange juice this morning. Also had a kush sandwich, which consisted of a square bun violently sawed in half, a triangular piece of hash brown, a piece of Canadian bacon, and perfectly amoeba-shaped fried egg. Crushed that. Time to start my day. What do I do with most of my time? Sit in the library with 400 sparingly sized people I’ll never talk to and worry about a lot of different, complicated stuff, and fantasize about how I could devise a way to complete it all in one fell swoop (hint: doing this is against the rules.)
What I WISH I was doing with my time: cruising the beach in one of those funky lying-down bikes, wearing a t-shirt with Mike Tyson’s “London Look” air-brushed across the front. Shit is XXL so when the shirt folds it looks more like Yoda. Anyways, “Alien Love Shack” is playing on my Walkman, and I have a pony trot beside me with jugs of sangria swinging from his saddle bags. It’s really sticky, and the mix leans a little towards cranberry juice instead of four loko, but this tune is BUMPIN’ like your neighbor’s cat lying in the street. It’s like five Celsius at the beach right now. I brought an umbrella hat.
Stream what YΞll❍W T∆ΠgΞriΠΞ has “Alien Love Shack” grindin’ to below:
P.S.: I do not approve of how you have spelt your name, Yellow Tangerine.
• Yellow Tangerine: http://yellowtangerine.bandcamp.com