Funniest read

You can read half of the first story here. http://www.mixerman.net/diaries1.php 

Still it's just a story, after all, all that couldn't possibly happen in such timespan, unless you were watching "24". Or could it?

I'm on day 19. Here's a fun clip that doesn't need much context (except for that mr. "Fingaz" was assigned to work in the half-redecorated bathroom for reasons you'll find out in earlier chapter):

"If our goal was to continue recording, it seemed our only viable option was to slow down the tape, and that's just what we did. But Johnny was getting frustrated and couldn't sing the song at the new tempo. So Willy went into the lounge and grabbed Yore's bottle of Maker's Mark whisky. I guess Willy figured he might get a take if Johnny got liquored up.

Since Johnny Rhythm didn't like singing to the song slowed down, we put the song back to its original tempo and pitch. Johnny pounded two full shots of Maker's Mark straight away and sang down a take. Between each of the first three takes, Johnny took another shot of whiskey, which made five shots in less than half an hour. I'm not sure that's what Willy had in mind, because not only was Johnny getting blasted, he still wasn't hitting the high notes, and he was beginning to slur his speech even in song. After the fourth take, Johnny pounded another shot and promptly pronounced that he needed to puke, so I quickly escorted him to Fingaz's bathroom, where he commenced a short prayer to the porcelain God. Fingaz crossed his arms over his chest and turned toward me.

"Oh, c'mon, Yo!" he exclaimed. "Dat * gonna smell!!" he continued as he reached to cover his nose with his shirt. And it did smell."

 ....

"As we were finishing our dinner, Marv Ellis finally asked what, frankly, I'd been waiting the whole night for him to ask. Were it me, this would have been my first question of the evening. But this guy went through a whole dinner before even mentioning it.

"So how's the project going, Willy?" Marv asked.

"It's going a little slower than I expected," Willy conceded. "I'm having problems because the drummer's not very good, and the band's resisting outside help. I've got a drummer lined up for next month," Willy continued, as I almost choked on my orange, which is what one typically eats for dessert at a sushi restaurant.

"Look, Willy. I don't care what you have to do. This band is my top priority. As far as I'm concerned, you have a blank check. If you need a year, then take a year. I don't give a *ing *. Just bring me a record I can sell. Okay?"

The two hugged, and as Marv Ellis turned to shake my hand, he looked at Willy again.

"I have a feeling this guy is going to add a lot to this project. Make sure he stays on," Marv said to Willy as he hit me on the side of my upper arm and smiled. Then he got into his car that was waiting with the valet, and he drove off.

I stood there flabbergasted. Was this like some sort of joke? Was there a hidden camera?

I've heard of situations like this with virtually unlimited budgets. There's one very famous rock band from the early nineties that's been recording an album for the past few years with several different producers. But that is an established band. * Slap is a bunch of miserable nobodies who were forced to write songs for two years. "