Annie sleeps like a walrus. That’s not to say she’s an inelegant sleeper — she isn’t, she sleeps in this weirdly prim manner like Dracula, on her back, face up, mouth closed. It’s just that she sleeps forever. Whenever we hang out we always go to bed at the same time, of course, but my body clock simply refuses to allow me through the morning. Annie, if undisturbed, will sleep for 16 hours. It was for this reason that, on our second day in Manchester, I spent around four hours lying awake in my bed, looking at memes on my phone, awaiting the moment my friend would rise from her crypt.
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On Tour with AK: Part 9
“Yo, it’s Ani fockin’ Klang here spittin’ flows, come around here imma break your nose, bitches love me when I play my shows, I’m fly as hell and everybody knows.”
“Very nice.”
“Okay your turn.”
“Sorry?”
“Your turn. Spit some bars.”
“No, I don’t think so. Not my style.”
“Oh come on.”
“Where would I even begin?”
“Just start talking. Then make it rhyme.”
“Right. Okay. So like iambic pentameter or?”
“Jesus boys, no. Don’t overthink it. Go.”
“Alright. Ahem. YO, YO, MY NAME IS DAN, AND I’M A MAN AND I HAVE A PLAN. I’M GONNA GO TO THE SHOP TODAY, AND IM GONNA BUY SOME BLOODY HAY. FOR MY HORSE! BECAUSE HE’S HUNGRY AND-”
“Okay.”
“What?”
“Maybe… maybe keep working on it.”
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