Pary F Karavello is very uncomfortable with people being in his home. He’s worried people are going to steal shit and he’s right. We are.

What’s amazing about all the stuff he’s so worried about is what total crap it is. He has filing cabinets full of documents but when you go in there and open the folders you see their mostly credit card offers and receipts from ten years ago. If his apartment was on Storage Wars the guys who paid $100 for it would be fucking furious.

My good friend William Randolph Hearst III left his home with a briefcase stuffed full of shit and he gave it all to me. I don’t want it. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a Lionel Richie tape? Play it on my Sony Walkman?

Can’t Slow Down is about 40 minutes long. That means you have 20 minutes extra on a tape. You could add other stuff to the end but Pary chose to stay true to the album and leave ten minutes of blank space after each side. I can respect that.

He wrote the album and artist on both sides so there’s no need to flip it over to see what tape it is. I can respect that too.

Isn’t the lack of typos odd? Outside of some upper/lowercase problems and the need to go from cursive to printing within one name, every word is spelled correctly. This is post-accident Pary. He seems perfectly copacetic so why is he getting disability?

-WILLIAM RANDOLPH HEARST III’S FRIEND