Who needs food, sleep or sex? I've got my guitar.

After work I thought I'd stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things, but I got sidetracked. A guy named Parker Langerak came up and started talking to me. He seems nice. He says he's rich, but I wonder if he's just trying to impress me. I thought rich people dressed better than that. Maybe he just has poor fashion sense and an unfortunate predilection for sweater vests.

I was really sleepy and I needed a shower, but for some dumb reason I hauled out the guitar and started playing. It's like a compulsion, you know? Parker went home, but I kept playing for a while. Acoustic guitar chills me out and relaxes me.

I was just about to pack it in around 4:30 a.m., when a few people walked by and stopped to listen. Who am I to refuse an audience? The old lady didn't seem to appreciate music much; she said something rude and blew a raspberry as she walked by. The younger people liked it, though. They were tapping their toes and nodding their heads in time to the music. You've got to love it when you have the power to make people happy.

It was almost 6 a.m. when I stopped. I was about to drop dead right there on the pavement. They didn't want me to stop, but I had to. Why do I do stuff like this? Now I'm probably going to sleep all day. Thank God I have two days off in a row.