it kinda hurts, cuz i was all like, hey that nilsen guy is a great guy and he seems so down to earth...but i guess when you get famous and everyone starts using your face on everything, you must get sort of lofty and find that its easier to float up there in your coolness than dip down and give a lowly 5k poster a salute.
i know, i know...it's the brakes...it's how it goes.
and i know that somehow it must be all my fault...i wasnt this or that enough...perhaps he just thought that i let myself go. that my words had gotten fat and slovenly. or maybe it's just him. nice to ya one day then rippin your soul out with a pitchfork the next.
or maybe there really isnt a nilsen. maybe he's really ripsnort or maybe mr. black or some other dark mysterious force that brings the temultuous spirit to these hallowed halls.
dunno.
i'll try to keep going though, you know, but i'll always know that somewhere in my soul there is a little peice missing...a little floppy hatted piece.
and it will make me sad...forever a broken man...a man left hanging with a simple to nilsen.
