I write songs, and those songs are sub-par by say, classic rock standards or, say, in the opinion of my friend who happens to have a vagina and makes my heart skip beats, by the standards that Modest Mouse sets. But some people listen to it, and ask me when my next album is coming out, and come to my coffeehouse shows, and, back when I lived in California, would have sex with me for writing songs about them. Those are called groupies right?

So I have to bring up the topic of JEALOUSY, because I don't understand what it is that I'm experiencing. I did all this sleeping around and shit back in college that I have very little recollection of, and I'm friends with and/or don't remember the names of most of the so-called "notches on my belt". And the few that don't fall into those categories will DEFINITELY never sleep WITH ME again.

So why then, do I have such a hard time grasping the idea that the situation is the same with said Modest Mouse groupie, and her past series of flings/relationships? I have no intention to sleep with the girls I once did, and currently have no prospects as far as cheating may go, and IF I DID, based on my past experiences, I'd be more creeped/tuned/grossed out by them, via my overwhelming appreciation for the vagina at hand.

"Long-term memory is for the weak", Floyd said to me earlier today. And I'm obviously weak, because I have distinct memories from early childhood and from a month ago when I had one of the best days of my life, via relational reunion with The Bomb Diggity. I forgive typically, because I'm a forgiving motherfucker, but forgetting is not my forte. Luckily, neither is retaliation. Unluckily neither is marketing.

SO THIS IS ME VENTING MY FRUSTRATION! Because there is no room for jealousy in this relationship. There is no room for jealousy in the modern age. Sharing is caring they say, and even though applying that phrase to people is kind of taboo, and could ultimately be fatal since AIDS is on the rise again, I'm just going to have to suck it up and remember that I ain't gonna cheat, and she told me she won't, and what's past is past, and words are all we got to communicate with, yo.

Now to make good on a few promises...


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