Business Plan Stage 3 - Trolling Casual Encounters Self-Promoting on Craigslist

When I was passed out beneath the sink in the bathroom of the Red Rock last night I had a moment of coke-fueled clarity: The Business Plan hasn't exactly worked the way I thought it would. I was kicked off of that dating website, my hashish supply is looking thin, and there's a burly Armenian man in a dress who follows me around everywhere I go now. So I'm swallowing my pride, 14 blotter sheets of brown acid, and a mixed handful of bennies, Estrogen pills stolen from a purse I found in the parking lot of Rite-Aid, and some Extenze for good measure: it's time to ply my services on Craigslist.

From: http://losangeles.craigslist.org/lac/muc/1583693520.html
Posting section: Musicians
Title: Need a Manager? Tired of Playing Shows to an Empty Room?

Well get used to it, Low vs. Diamond. No one wants to hear 4 Silverlake scenesters riding a wood glue high playing one chord over and over and screaming about their sister's dwindling supply of Plan B and jenkem. That's right, jenkem. Otherwise known as "butt hash" if you're a 43 year old Fox News reporter reading some shit off a teleprompter and pretending not to be hung over from last night's Tijuana Mud relapse:


Does this sound familiar: "Spike, no one shows up to my shows at 6:30 PM on Monday night at my mom's Book Club meeting." Ah, it's a problem as old as time. It might get you thinking that maybe a career change is in order. Maybe something involving service to the greater good instead of getting fucked up and scratching out lyrics about Coachella into your coke mirror? Nah fuck it, you say. Time to get into the real estate business and start stockpiling the Valtrex. And hey, why not just hire someone to lure junkies to our shitty webcast acoustic shows and take a modest 86.5% cut?

Cut to me, Spike Anderson. Professional Hosebag Merchant, Powerslop founder, and Salesman of the Nose Candy. Every NoHo washout's wet dream, every concert promoter's worst nightmare, every LA vice cop's most familiar scag'd out face, every tranny hooker's favorite neo-retro grindcore scene representative and amyl soaked zig-zag purveyor.

You want to know what I'm about? Fuck you, pay me! Rule Numero Uno is "I don't do dick until I see some cold hard cash". And listen here Ziggy Stardust, you and your drag queen buddies from Echo Park ain't gonna make it two gigs in this scene without some kind of manager/meth wrangler. If you're interested, and you better fucking be, go to spikeanderson.blogspot.com

If you're still trying to figure it all out, there's no hope for you. Better sell your kidneys to pay off your student loans because your bank account ain't gettin' any fatter from the zero people buying tickets to your acoustic gig at Bob's Waffle House, scum.