The Berrics - Zach The Intern

Let me stand next to your fire

I just recently read that the first guitar torched on stage by Jimi Hendrix will be auctioned in London, my new goal in life is to own that guitar. Unfortunately my paycheck at the berrics will not cover the Ł500,000 ($884,450) it's estimated to sell for, so now I must find some investors to help purchase this piece of history. I made a list of everyone I've met at the berrics and who would want to own Jimi Hendrix's torched guitar, right then the door opens at the berrics and guess who it is: The Nuge and Lizard King! If someone showed me this picture and said:

Zach the Intern with Nuge and Lizard King

PERSON: Yea, those are the dudes that own the first guitar torched by Jimi Hendrix.
ME: That's about right, those guys look like badasses.

Anyways, I tell Lizard and Nuge about the guitar and they're totally down to own history so we all dig deep in our wallets for a grand total of: $77.00. With our 77 bucks we won't get a string from a Hendrix guitar so instead we buy a shitty guitar from a pawnshop and light it on fire in the alley behind the berrics. I think lighting a guitar on fire with The Nuge and Lizard King is way better than owning history. Next time Lizard and Nuge drop by the berrics they will bring more stuff to light on fire in the alley... good times.

Sincerely,
Zach The Intern.

Anger Management

Over the weekend I was driving to get a haircut when suddenly I see the red and blue lights of LA's finest. That's right. 5 motha fuckin' O. Apparently it's illegal to forget to put on your turn signal before you make a left on the rough and tough streets of Studio City. The cop asks for my driver's license and registration and I say to myself, "This is bullshit." Apparently I didn't say it to myself cuz the cop leaned in and asked, "What the F#*k did you say?" I of course said, "this is some sick shit. Ya know, like I can't believe I got pulled over by a real cop, I love cops, I always wanted to be a cop, so this is some sick shit, like sick as in awesome, not sick as in demented." He looked at me, turned around, went back to his squad car and a few minutes later emerged with a ticket for not only failing to use my signal while making a turn but an additional summons to appear to anger management classes. It was either that or I would be arrested for disorderly conduct and third-degree assault on a police officer. I chose the anger management class. Needless to say I never got my haircut cuz I had to be at the Berrics in 20 minutes and you all know what happens when I don't show up to the Berrics... the place falls apart. So, I got to work and who do I run into but none other than Kerry Getz. I asked Kerry if he ever went to anger management classes and he just yelled at me, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK NO!! Now SCREW OFF!!" But I got a pic of him and I before I did.

Sincerely,
Zach The Intern

Adventures In Interning

The landlord of the apartment complex where I'm currently staying has no clue I'm a resident. Today I was leaving for work, yep, at the Berrics, I know, I know, it's awesome. Anyway, today I was leaving for work when I saw, let's just call him Mr. Wilson the Landlord, standing at the bottom of my stairs (I live in a 2nd floor apartment). I immediately u-turned back inside opting to wait for him to leave so as not to blow my illegal residency. I put my computer bag down, my sweet ass Oakland A's hat, and the keys. I waited for ten minutes until he disappeared, then made a break for it in fear he'd come back soon. I slam the door, computer bag in hand and run to my car only to realize I had nothing to open it up with because I left my keys in the apartment! Normally, that wouldn't be a problem 'cuz my buddy I'm living with could just let me in, but he can't take phone calls at work cuz he works for a big time R&B star, don't know which one because he can't even tell me cuz of his confidentiality agreement. So, there I am. No keys to my car. No keys to my apartment. Locked out and bummed out cuz I got Steve Berra and Eric Koston wondering where the hell I am. The place falls apart when I'm not there ya know. Three hours pass sitting on the curb just catching brief glimpses of myself in passing car windows, then suddenly it's not so brief. Suddenly, I'm staring back at myself in the reflection of a black Cadillac door and the Cadillac is not moving! Then I hear, "What's up, Zach?" and I look up and it's... yep... Erik Ellington. He's in the passenger seat of Andrew Reynold's Cadillac. I collect myself, and say very calmly as if I had only been sitting there for a moment, "What's up double E? What's up Drew?" They ask if I'm going to the park, I tell them my car is broken, they say we'll give you a ride, I say "nah, that's cool." They say, "No, we insist", then Erik get's out of the front seat and tells me to grab shotgun. I do. I get to the park. I make sure Today's Thrashin' Thursdays goes up, because, like I said, shit falls apart at the Berrics when I'm not there. And well... Everything in the universe is put back into its natural order. Now, about my keys? My roommate sllipped off to the bathroom and texted me that he'll let me in tonight... Only problem now is: a ride home. But Marc Johnson just showed up so I'm sure he'd be more than happy to give me a lift.

Andrew Reynolds and Erik Ellington with Zach The Intern

Sincerely,
Zach The Intern