Dear Diary,
So there I am in the studio the other day, and I'm belting out a new song I put together. And there's The Edge, and he's sittin there listenin. But I can tell by the look in his eye that the cunt's not really too pushed. So I ask him what he thinks.
"Yeah, not bad", he says.
'Not bad?!", I'm thinkin, 'is this guy for fuckin real?!'
I mean, if I went to work every day with Nelson Mandella or Martin Luther King I'd be only awe-struck on a daily basis. And them by me, I'm sure.
But there's The Edge, Not-Bad-ing out of him to his heart's content, as if I were just some pleb the fucker happened to be in a band with.
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