Elliott Smith. This dude could write a fucking melody.
I miss you, Elliott.
Had a listening party in your honor yesterday.
Hope you’re jamming up there with Kurdt, or at the very least, talking shit on your childhood with MJ.
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About the author(s): MjH grew up in the suburbs of Encino, CA, born into a family of hilarious Jews. His mother, a witty New Yorker with a sharp tongue, set the bar pretty high in terms of what he looks for in a wife/Jewess.
Forever wearing glasses and on the hunt for Jewish cunt, our man wants you to know that he once schtupped a dame at DIVE! in Century City.
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