Autohaircuts have been my unsung hobby this summer. If I'm bored, hungry, and can't concentrate on anything else, I'll chop at it. Not the ideal circumstances to take care of your looks probably, but I haven't bungled it yet.

I didn't get much done today. I dressed up and pretended to be John Entwistle while playing bass to The Supremes' "My Sunny Boy," how's that for artistic. Coffee really fucks me up if I'm not careful. I act like an incessant little kid mindlessly on the move. It's fine if I have a clear task, but I get easily distracted.

How often do you tell yourself, Mr. Rogers-like, "hey, you're alright"? In this self-conscious, simulcra-filled, post-meta living, I forgot doing such a simple thing was possible. It probably was the first time I'd ever done it. I think everyone deserves the pleasure, at least once.