My old pal Vuthy would say to me, "Nick, you go out back, smoke fat one." I always hoped he wasn't talking about anatomy, and by his bleeding eyes it looks like I was right. "Hey you guy," Vuthy would say, pointing his boning knife at me. "Do I know you?"
It was early and the coffee hadn't kicked in yet and the lights in the fish plant were shuttering, making everything fuzzy. Things were not there, hard to get a hold of, like static.
Vuthy would spray me with scalding water and say, "Wake up and go to sleep. You're too slow, mister."
Thinking about waking up and going to sleep and not being able to figure out what music to listen to to do either, I present this playlist.
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