Pour The Coffee In My Eyes

• Hearing about my exile on Elba, S. Higginbotham came to visit this week. Ping-pong was played. Attendant injuries were suffered. Pork chop sandwiches were consumed, and attendant food comas were endured. It was like a morale-boosting care package that you'd get on a rainy day at summer camp except, like, in human form.

• "You's a seven-time felon. What you doin' with that?"

• I want someone that I know, likesay the aforementioned Higginblatt, to make their own font, and then to tell me how that went, so I can decide if I would like to do so as well.

• So what if I don't have a functioning automobile or any discernible source of income? Fuck it. I'm going to see Spoon. Because I can't think of a good reason as to why I wouldn't do that. I mean. It only costs money and is happening hundreds of miles away. (Happy birthday, FP.)

• I'm having one of those days where I'm not dying; I just can't think of anything good to do.

• From the "More Evidence That This Blog Has Become Less About the Strange Activities of One 'The Devil Himself' And His Far-Flung Associates and More About the Goings-On Within the World of Rap Music That Nobody Who Reads Said Blog Cares About Other Than Its Author, 'The Devil Himself'" file: Lil Wayne is going to be on the new Jay-Z record. We here at CFY,K consider this a win. (Also: Here's hoping that there's some little kid sitting in front of his computer with a notebook full of scribbled sixteens thinking, 'Oh. That's how you do that.')