So, after that I died. Every time I remember that Jeremy sent me a photo of Isa I have a heart attack, seriously. I sent it to him at night and only in the morning I saw it. At 7am I was freaking out. My mother must be thinking I’m crazy.
So, Jeremy is straight up famous now…..
Please read, please be proud of my lanky gay friend from Virginia who’s made himself a playwright now.
Also I think I’m referenced as a friend that took a really bad headshot for him on a cell phone. http://nyti.ms/2bnzZIR
L.A. At night was mad real. Jeremy set us up in a friends small studio with her two pugs and then took us to a party at Jennifer Morrison’s house. Her bathroom was big and she served some gourmet cheese. We mingled with somebodies and I tried not to look like a nobody.
“The other day I was listening to 212 and noticed that Azealia Banks predicted her own future. 212 is the prophecy:
I heard you ridin’ with the same tall, tall tale
Tellin’ em you made some
Sayin’ you runnin’ but you ain’t goin’ no where
Why you procrastinate girl?
You got a lot but you just waste all yourself
They’ll forget your name soon
And won’t nobody be to blame but yourself, yeah
The last four lines completely describe her career right now.”