All the retro nostalgia trash that has accumulated over the last fourty years will be cherished antique crap when I’m 80. Will I be able to handle my grandchildren cheering when they aquire an antique “simon says” console?
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How pathetic am I? I have some silly notion that a door in my mind will unlock when I “finish” finnegan’s wake…
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Too busy reading bukowski and playing slug-bug over a fifth of cheap whiskey…
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What’s going to give this painting the feel of a solid three dimensional presence?
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I think I could do the street side statue hustle, but I’d do it without clothes on…
Why I sold the Milestone dinner…
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You don’t eat or sleep for a couple weeks and then all the sudden your whole world veiw starts to get really skiewed, funny that…
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Sweet. I have a mallet strapped to my forehead and the passkey to Paris Hilton’s suite at the Waldorf…
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