I replied, “I should have written a Craigslist Missed Connections post.” We erupted in laughter. I laughed because I was just thinking about that when we picked up our orders and headed north. “Did you go there like a year ago, when they had a couple of fine white women working the lunch shift?,” he asked. You can’t be the sort of writer I am sitting at a desk for weeks on end. He’s in between clients, I’m spending a half-day driving, stopping, and jotting down thoughts for inspiration. We’re both eating three-piece lunch combos from the Federal Way Ezell’s.
#The vault silvana torrent#
Spitta was always our shared motivation, as highly functional weedheads with an impressive capacity for work and a loyalty to the Chevrolet brand before my 1981 El Camino died in a torrent of black engine smoke. Now he’s lauding me for making grown-up money dropping bars on what some people still have the nerve to call a blog. We’ve been bonding over Curren$y since we started hanging out in 2016, smoking blunts on the patio while his lady braided his young daughter’s hair, yelling at us to either close the patio door or smoke that shit somewhere else. The ambient twinkles and staccato bass of “Obsession” - a song encapsulating the mindset of true hustlers - enhances our high and makes the trunk of his sedan rattle.
This is the first time we’ve seen each other in a while, maybe even since I moved to Greenwood. My friend still lives on the Eastside of Tacoma I used to see him at least once a week when I lived in the town. Green and gray and splashes of light blue as far as the eye can see. The first blunt I had was with lunch, in a Redondo parking lot overlooking the water, leaning against my friend’s candy-painted ‘90s model Chevy Impala.
It reminds me of a quip I made about my own voice, now that I’ve gotten past the months of cringing having to listen to it back regularly for months: “ Listening to my work in audio form really emphasizes how I always sound like I'm waking up from a weed nap.” Over a beat made for cruising down the strip in whatever city, Curren$y compares his car collection to Jay Leno’s on “The Tonight Show.” “Jodeci Tape” is so smooth it makes me want to buy a velvet couch. I’m nodding my head to the drum break that drives “Reese’s Cup,” while Spitta’s hazy, stoned drawl unfurls over a quick verse describing the color of his Range Rover and comparing it to the titular sweet treat. Chopped pickled okra to jazz it up, a heavy drizzle of mustard. Steaming vegetables even though I just had field roast veggie sausages and sauerkraut for dinner.
#The vault silvana pro#
Kenta Kobashi (October 25, 1995, one of over a dozen singles clashes between the two pro wrestling legends). It’s a Friday night and I’m rolling my third blunt of the day, listening to the latest full-length from longtime collaborators Curren$y (the preeminent crime and lifestyle writer of New Orleans) and the Alchemist (my favorite rap producer since 2007’s Return of the Mac). Each month with In Our Headphones, members of KEXP's Digital Content team share the music that's resonating with them right now.Ĭurren$y & the Alchemist - Continuance (Jet Life/ALC Records, 2022) photo by Luis Ferrá
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