🔒 EXCLUSIVE: Profiles/ - High Quality

Who the hell do you think you are? You’re any kind of artist? Anybody know who you are? Maybe evrybody else wants to enjoy the peace and quiet. This is one of the most important places in North America and who are you? Who are you? You miserable presumptious no talent. You’re no artist. An artist respects the silence, it serves the foundation of creativity. You obviously don’t have the talent. You don’t have enough respect for yourself or other people, or know what it means to respect yourself. In music or any form of creativity. And I’m an NYU fil-school graduate. Sucker. And the School of Visual Art in the Academy of Art University in San Fransisco. You suck. You’re a no talent. If you really have talent, go practice. And then get yourself a gig, instead of ruining the day for everybody down here. You disgrace. You are everything that’s gone wrong in this world. You’re a self consumed, no-talent, mediocre piece of ♥♥♥♥. And I’ve earned my right to say it. Okay? In 1975, I walked Bob Dylan up on stage. Who the ♥♥♥♥ are you? I knew the Grateful Dead from 1966. Who the ♥♥♥♥ are you? You’re nothing. You are nothing. And you will never be anything. Never. How dare you? You miserable, mediocre nothing. Shame on you. You crack a stupid little smile, you little pimp. Go learn to play. You’re flat. You can’t even carry a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ note. I don’t care about your little horn lip, it doesn’t mean you know how to play. You’re flat. I’ve trained classically, I’ve trained contemporaneously, and you suck.