Sure, both of these earth-shattering events happened on Monday. I'm still taking daily solace being in sync with my South Florida neighbor's unfolding Twitter platitudes as I settle in as Music Editor at the New Times Broward-Palm Beach. Fans should not be surprised that Weezy's typical crass bravado ("I'm on some shit ain't even come out the ass yet," etc) for introspection ("love is a virtue.") following his recent octuple-root canal(!) date with a Miami dentist and an impending trip to the clink.
As for me, I'm humbled and honored to be chained to my desk in here in
the land of fucking amazing grapefruit following five years in
Brooklyn, N.Y., as a scribe for corporate radio and freelancer for
Village Voice, Paste, Alternative Press, Idolator.com (back when it ruled), Paperthinwalls.com (R.I.P.) and a few other places that still
owe me money.
I'll spray a trail of 140-character epithets,
concert observations, music happenings in the surrounding counties, and maybe trade
some erudition with Miami New Times Music Editor Arielle Castillo,
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the fantastic editrix I defer to in all matters concerning local
Nicaraguan eats. ("So, d'ya think Joanna Newsom deserved a 9.2, AC?")
Although you are reading this information online, the New Times Broward-Palm Beach appears in its finest glory in print. Pick one up today.