Saturday, July 23, 2005
Dear Weezer
(Just in case anyone from Weezer reads this blog, as the Chicago Police seem to)
Dear Weezer,
I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that when you look out into the mob of fans in Grant Park, you won't see me. It's my job, see. I have to fly to a meeting at 5AM tomorrow. It just wasn't going to happen. I know, when you play "Dope Nose" you will be wishing you can see me and Scratch embracing - you know it's our special song - and instead you will see Greg Kot calling you a honky. I'll make it up to you, I swear.
Love,
Mags
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Dear Weezer,
I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that when you look out into the mob of fans in Grant Park, you won't see me. It's my job, see. I have to fly to a meeting at 5AM tomorrow. It just wasn't going to happen. I know, when you play "Dope Nose" you will be wishing you can see me and Scratch embracing - you know it's our special song - and instead you will see Greg Kot calling you a honky. I'll make it up to you, I swear.
Love,
Mags
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