For this week's cover story, Bill Jensen shadowed comedian/actor/emo rapper Donald Glover. For your enjoyment, we present this deleted scene.

Donald Glover is in Austin preparing to host the MTVu Woodies--an "awards" show which is really just an excuse to gather a bunch of bands and to represent MTV at SXSW. Glover has brought the shaggy-haired Pierson to be his writing partner and help him with the script for the one-hour show.

Foo Fighters are performing soundcheck, and Tyler from Odd Future just picked up a guy in a chicken suit onstage and slammed him to the ground, possibly breaking his arm.

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A work of art

Artist Justin Lowe is recreating CBGB's storied--and legendarily foul--bathroom as a full-scale installation at the Wadsworth Atheneum. If you've never heard of this particular venue, it's probably because it is located in our bad-ass neighbor to the Northeast, the punk-rock hotbed of Hartford, Connecticut. Why Connecticut, you ask? Lowe tells the Wall Street Journal that he chose the Atheneum because he felt the piece was tied to the museum's surrealist history (Dali used to hang out there).

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​So a week ago The Guardian published a long, lurid account of professional party philosopher Andrew W.K.'s awkward teenage years, wherein he fell in love and wrote his crush a mortifying love song called "My Destiny" that got him slapped with a restraining order. Brace yourself for the sequel, featuring another song (called "I Want to Kill"), a partial redemption, and, yes, some ill-timed pants-defiling. My favorite part might be "I Want to Kill," actually. Sample lyrics:

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Can't believe it took 715 words to say absolutely nothing.

Conducted at the Happy Ending after-party two weeks ago by the New York Press:

Hi Ezra.

"Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar."

We went to college together.

"Oh, yeah. You've changed your style since then, wouldn't you say?"

I guess I used to be a bit more Goth.

"You're still kind of Goth, no?"

It goes on from there. ["A not-so-happy-ending while hanging with Vampire Weekend"]

Ewwwwwwwwww.

In the event you were barred entry from Friday night's MSTRKRFT/Bloody Beetroots fete at Webster Hall, first of all you're not alone by a long shot (one scarred Voice employee's tale of his unsuccessful attempt to get in ends with the words "blow me"), and more importantly, here is what you missed. Papermag.com allegations include "a sweet game of spin the bottle being played to pass the time," "stripping and drunken hook-ups in bathroom stalls," and climactically, "Until an inebriated rager threw up on themselves or someone else, both of which went down." The show went on until dawn and was supposedly awesome. I am thrilled to have not been present. But the show at Webster two nights earlier was even grosser.

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