I get about $2,000 a month. It’s not easy, understand, my Mom (yep, same Mom) doesn’t give it to me all at once.
I get about $2,000 a month. It’s not easy, understand, my Mom (yep, same Mom) doesn’t give it to me all at once. She makes a deposit right when I’m about to starve/commit a crime/kill myself. She hates it, and I hate it. But hey, I’ve gotta get better at guitar.
I try to work as little as possible. I know work feels good and all, and women like the sexy Lesley Arfin want you to have a job, but I’ve dedicated myself to scales, rhythms, and reading music.
I just turned 27. I’ve had jobs in the past, but I’m really good at getting fired (mostly because of my former ten year insomnia, primary cause: excessive wanking).
I got into a top London art school so that I could be a graphic designer. I’m mostly doing it to live in London (best music city) and to buy more time to practice guitar.
Did you know I also spent 6 years in college? Four and a half years at NYU and a year and a half at Tulane.
When I was 10 we were poor and my house was robbed three times and my guitar and keyboard was stolen. My Mom collected the insurance money, and said I couldn’t get my instruments back. I spent the next twelve years of my youth, wasted in other pursuits be they college, investment banking, raves, or prep school friends.
I recently wrote a screenplay about it. And I went to a screenwriting conference last weekend, and Simon Beaufoy (screenwriter) said he’d give me seven pounds if I didn’t like Slumdog Millionaire. I got his agent’s name and her agency name. I still don’t think I’m going to see the movie.