A day as Mike

I woke up this morning, with a migraine.
Chester was bugging Rob to borrow his drumsticks. It was funny to watch. Rob had chucked a psycho rampage this morning.
Because minutes later, after Rob’s drumsticks went missing, he blamed Chester, Chester blamed Phoenix for a “backstab joke”. God, that was a long story. Don’t want to repeat my bitching on about that anymore.
Joe was alright. He just had a PMS ordeal with Brad. About Brad touching his DJ equipment. Maybe it was Jasmine, giving him a breaker.
I wonder how little Draven is doing? You know, Chester’s son.
I got to the filming studios around 11 am. When we were suppose to be there around 9 am. I slept in. Meh, so did Joe.
Chester spent 5 minutes, all together, staring at his tattoos. That was after, I had slapped him across the head for being an idiot.
We started filming at 12 pm. After Joe spent 6 minutes with Rob, trying to find his drumsticks. Supposedly, Joe owed him one. I find that hard to believe.
The chick who did my hair, put to much gel in my hair. So it smelt like shit in the end. Even after, Chester had put his Lynx deodorant in it. Then it smelt like, something coming out of Chester’s experiments with his shoes. Don’t get me started on that either.
When we finished it. After doing it half a dozen century times, we just mucked around with the spare buckets of water.
Rob was the only one that didn’t get wet in the film clip. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t get wet in the end. We bucketed all on him.
Then, when we came back to the tour bus, we all smelt the wrath of Chester’s shoes and the mixed smell of Rob’s and Brad’s belching contest.
Another good reason, not to come in the kitchen. No food and yet, it stinks.
Another exciting memory to forget, in my rapping notes.
Chester’s being an idiot. Again. Nothing new.