With the release of Journals, a collection of personal writings by Nirvana's Kurt Cobain, the world has been offered a glimpse into the mind and heart of one of the 20th century's most influential musicians. Unfortunately some portions of these diaries and doodle-pads were deemed too unimportant to include in the book, thereby offering fans a stunted view of Seattle's favorite son.

Finally, the last missing pieces of Cobain's life are available for public consumption. You, dear reader, are now invited to judge for yourself whether these words are "unimportant" or if they, as we believe, smell like teen spirit.

April 7, 1991
I finally confronted Tad about always bringing his chainsaw around wherever he goes. At first he got really defensive, claiming that nobody cares that I wear a shirt everywhere I go. Luckily Kim Thayil and Mark Arm stepped in and echoed my concerns, so Tad apologized and agreed to only bring his chainsaw around on special occasions. I love Tad and all, but I'm not holding my breath.

February 20, 1992
Today was my birthday, so Mark Lanegan took me to Chili's for an Awesome Blossom. Also, he got me a bunch of bootlegs by The Fartz, which was really nice of him.

Then a really weird thing happened. While we were there, the TV over the bar was showing TOOTSIE. We were watching it and laughing and it was turning into one of the best birthdays ever, when the bartender changed the channel to a volleyball game. I was about to declare it the worst birthday ever, when someone sitting at the bar said "Hey, barkeep. I was watching TOOTSIE."

The bartender apologized and turned the movie back on. When Lanegan and I turned to see the face of our hero, we realized that it was Kenny G. Apparently he lives in Seattle too.

"You like TOOTSIE, too?" I asked.

The next thing I knew, we were buying each other drinks and chatting it up. Upon Mark's suggestion, the three of us are getting together to jam with Sean Kinney next weekend.

September 23, 1992
Aye carumba! Just when I think I'm about to pull myself from my dark and abysmal existence, something else happens that sends me reeling even further into oblivion.

Thurston Moore came over tonight to watch "Doogie Howser, M.D.," like he does every week. The show was great; Wanda and Curly were both really pretty, Vinnie was hilarious, and Doog taught us all a lesson about life. Afterward though, while we were discussing the episode over cigarettes and margaritas, I mentioned how great it is that Thirsty and I always watch the show together because we're totally just like Doog and Vinnie. Thirsty agreed and was like "Yeah, you are so Vinnie."

Needless to say, the conversation came to a screeching halt.

"Wait, no, I'm like Doogie. You're like Vinnie," I explained.

From there things escalated into a shouting match, before Thirsty left in a huff, saying "Maybe I'll see if Lou Barlow wants to start watching "Doogie Howser, M.D." with me!"