i genuinely love my friend Chris. he really is a wonderful person, and i've probably spent the best nights of my life with him, dancing like maniacs on counters, tables and dancefloors, redecorating nightclubs, singing along to some crappy hit songs in the street whilst drinking champagne from the bottle on our way home sometime in the morning, and so on, and so on. the kind of nights you cannot remember anything about; when it's a proper miracle when you happen to wake up in your own bed. quite frankly, i've never been this close to believe in god.
anyway. he's so peculiar when it comes to his drug that he'd rather fly internationally to the miami winter music conference with c. stick onto his balls than buying it from some guy he doesn't know. (a friend of ours made a video of him taking it off, knowing that he hadn't shaved beforehand... gotta put that on youtube one day. word.)
having said that, you'll understand where the following conversation comes from:
"ho-laaa!! hola, hola! ok so, this cocaina es mierda. no hay posibilidad que me pay for that shit, ok? i tried it, shit! ok? so, I Give You the shit cocaine and i want a refund, ok?
not possible? ok. so, this is what's gonna happen: grab i'mma the DJ's mic and talk to the crowd here, like 'holaaa! que tal?! attention please! cocaine here is shit! Do not buy it from this dickhead! "
yeah, yeah ... Better is that you give me my money back. ok, coool! graaaacias! "
so yay, Seems That Even drug dealers Provide some kind of customer service after all.
Not That Any interesting whatsoever it is But I cannot sleep and I'm unbelievably bored. So There you go.
" Yeah Yeah, Brian Jonestown Massacre
"Blow"
Ghinzu Johann 
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